#I could spend all day just watching Johnny...

[devinescribe]

The Kinda Guy to…

Tuffnut Thorston edition

- Always trying to make you laugh. It's his favorite part of you!!

- Needs someone down with the chaos but willing to reel him back in. Ruffnut encourages his idiocy, so if you're like... "Yeah but I like my boyfriend alive..." he's like "oh yeah wait.."

- You need to like Chicken. She's his baby. If you are together, that's your baby now too. "Babe babe babe hold-"

You're ready holding her and cooing at her with a smile.

He's even more in love.

- Knows 4 other languages besides Norse...(5 if you count post lightning Snotlout) says he loves you in all of them, and teaches you. Says it's to help for extra communication during missions and patrol but it's his way of spending extra time with you.

- Falls for you when he sees you (accidentally) blow something up during a dragon raid back when they were still fighting dragons. The building was already so damaged, there were dragons in it... kaboom was easier.

- prefers someone who can keep up with him in terms of like energy. Always willing and waiting to just hop up and go.

- Yall remember in RTTE when the twins found a rock that said they were the owners of the edge? Yeah makes you the exception to the rules because "you're basically a Thorston already... Y/N Thorston-"

- If you don't have your own dragon, he's like "well they have a back just hop on" wonders if they can grow more than two heads. He's determined.

- When they first move out to the edge, he's so sad cuz he didn't bring you along (in the universe you don't have a dragon) and Ruff can handle his whining to the point she's sleeping outside. One day you appear outside their door and Snotlout is just grumbling about "and don't ever say I don't do anything nice for you"

- (think adults) Yall know that scene in Hotel Transylvania when Johnny is like "OH YEAH DID YOU SEE THAT THATS MY GIRLFRIEND!" Yeah it goes a little something like this

"OH YEAH DID YOU SEE THAT?! THATS mY GIRLFRIEND!"

"I'm your wife, Tuff."

"OH YEAH MY WIFE!! even better-"

- Would be a good boyfriend cuz... he has a sister. Even if Ruff is... well Ruff, still!

- As much as they bicker, it is imperative that you and Ruff like each other. She's his twin, he NEEDS you two to get along. (You do. She jokes about stealing you from him.)

- The tears episode. Oh boy... you're the only one that doesn't say tears. He watched you turn Hookfang on Snotlout for saying it. It was funny. He regrets bringing you to this island.

- If you're ever in trouble?? Oh yeah, he does now thinks later. That's how he is, especially when you're in trouble. Like... he just flies off to get you.

- That often ends with him being tied up next to you. Well… at least you’re together? How did he fly Barf and Belch without Ruff? He didn’t. She’s there too.

- The only time you have actively stood up to Astrid was when she kept saying tears😭 he’s so moved it’s… it’s just… he cries for an hour.

- Loves when you indulge his crazy. Like, yes, please encourage him to blow up that building as the plan.

- Hiccup could make a totally sane plan, and he’s like… eh. So, the gang tells you to tell him your plan. (It’s just Hiccup’s plan) He agrees right away.

- Do you have fire resistant clothes? No? You should get some.

- He is a physical touch guy. Like… just piles on top of you. Actually, you should flop onto him. He likes the pressure.

- Vocal stims. So many. He just says what’s on his mind always.

- One time you do the grueling process of… combing out one of his dreads… why? He saw the lil braids Hiccup has and said he wanted one. And you indulge him.

- Pouts when he doesn’t get a kiss and he asks for one. That is the ultimate betrayal.

“Y/N can I have a kisssss?”

“Tuff, I would love kiss you but I’m sick…”

“…so you hate me and want me to die.”

…

News flash, he gets sick. You’ll never guess why.

- Brags about you. Calls you his brain. Cuz you can obviously think things through before doing them. He can’t.

- Prime example? How he asked you out. It’s the second day of the Trial of Flame, and he’s telling you (after almost dying) how much he likes you and wants to go out with you. Bad timing. But the best intentions.

- If you have a dragon, he’s often amazed by what you do with said dragon. How in sync you are, how you do stuff with such ease, like you were born to be a dragon rider.

- He loves your dragon extra if it’s a destructive, deadly breed.

- Don’t leave him with your dragon if it is. Because any explosion you hear after… it’s them.

- Remember when Hiccup said “Where there’s smoke there’s the twins?” Yeah that got updated. “Where there’s smoke there’s the twins. And Y/N. We will figure out whether voluntary or involuntary.

[gasoline0816]

[kkusuka]

this is in the "141 and john price's wife" universe. still gn pronouns. i also don't think price texts that much- old man syndrome.

the 141 absolutely have a group chat dedicated to pictures and information (porn) about their little wife.

it starts, as many silly things do, with johnny and a picture of you asleep on the couch. cuddled into the armrest covered in the tortilla blanket he'd gotten you as a gag gift, and it was just too good not to share. (although he only sent one of the thirty he actually took, he's gotta keep as much of you to himself as he can.)

then it was kyle with you in the yard, laying in the grass after cutting down branches in the sweltering heat (something john would never let you do if he'd know about it, but he appreciates the flush of your cheeks and the angle of the photo makes it seem as if you were under him doing another strenuous activity.)

and it continues like that for months, cute little pictures of you gardening with price, walking with simon, watching tv between kyle and johnny- just sharing the daily life of their pretty bird.

but the real nature of the group chat doesn’t start until simon sends a picture of you bent over, putting something in the oven, in the tiny, red daisy duke shorts that are only just long enough to be considered inappropriate for the public.

sr: fuckin' lucky that shit only takes 10 minutes to cook or we'd be in the kitchen all day.

soap: fuuuuuuuuckin' hell

kyle: don't rub it in simon, we'll be home in two days

sr: don't worry, i'll warm 'em up for you

price: Behave yourselves.

and it all just unravels from there.

john's the next culprit. he has loads and loads of less than decent pictures of you, perks of being the first husband, but he's not reaching into the stash for this one. he has a point to make: if anyone's getting off to pictures of his wife, he's gonna be the one sending them.

it's barely two hours after the other three left that something is sent into the chat. face down, ass up, cunt dripping with cum as price uses his thumb to keep your pussy open to the camera, the rest of his hand palm down on your ass, the ring on his finger glistening in the flash.

sr: fuckin' filthy captain

soap: BRING ME BACK, PUT ME IN CAPTAIN

kyle: tell 'em i said thank you

it's not surprising that the minute he comes back, johnny's on you. methodically placing the camera, making sure it captures all of you and his face buried between your thighs. it wasn't the first video sent into the chat but it's definitely one of the best ones.

your head thrown back, hands in his hair, gripping what you can so you can grind your pussy on his tongue. his phone is just close enough to hear your small pants and groans as he sucks on your swollen clit.

soap: i could spend the rest of my life right there

sr: you let 'em fuck yer face like that?

soap: lt i'd let 'em gag me

soap: then step on my dick

soap: then leave me on the floor to rot

*kyle, price, and sr disliked three messages*

soap: like you fuckers wouldn't

and kyle is not a man to be left out, but he is also not as keen on sharing his private time with you as johnny is. so there aren't videos coming from him, instead he has 4k close ups of your tits after he spent almost an hour sucking hickeys into every part of your chest he could reach.

and kyle is like an artist, he makes sure your hair is splayed out perfectly, and that you're just fucked out enough to give him a bright smile. he also makes sure that the locket they gave you, the one that's has their names engraved on the inside, sits perfectly above the swell of your boobs. and goddamn is he proud of his pictures. (it's not hard for you to look pretty in pictures because you're already pretty but kyle thinks he's the best at actually capturing it).

soap: another two things i would put my face between until i suffocate

*sr, price, and kyle disliked a message*

soap: go fuck urselves

and simon is just mean, fingers peaking under your panties, finding your clit just to sit there, finger pressed on your bud, only moving for a few seconds before falling still again; his other hand hold your hips down so you can't do anything but wait for him to move again. and he does it the entire length of the manchester game until your panties are completely soaked through.

soap: stone cold, lt. stone cold.

but before he can do anything, he has to take his picture so the other fools can remember what a whore you are for him. and because it's between games he'll let you sit on his dick and grind into him during commercial breaks. maybe he'll even film in and send it to the guys, let them see you drip all over his lap whole stretching to fit him in your cunt.

but whether his team loses or wins, he'll flip you over and fuck you into the couch cushions, so at least you get that!

then they're all away on a mission, and you know about their little chat (it's hard not to when suddenly they have a camera out every time you're in their vicinity.) so you take it upon yourself to give them their fix. and why not play around with them well you're ar it?

it starts when you go shopping merely three days after they left. they tear up your bras and underwear so obviously you would need to buy more eventually. but usually when you go shopping one of them is with you to share their opinions, but since they're away, you just have to send pictures instead!

a whole catalog, in facts. you've got angles, dressing room lighting, and a whole lot of time on your hands.

*you sent 22 photos to 'the bird house'*

you: i can't choose :(((

you: help me out?

kyle: give me 6 hours to fly home and i'll help you with anything

price: Looks great. But I can't tell from the pictures, you'll have to try them all on again when I get home.

soap: licking the screen isn't working, captain i think i need to go home.

*sr saved 22 photos to Camera Roll*

kyle: smooth riley, real smooth.

and of course it doesn't end there. you have a chance to torture them a little bit with zero consequences and you're going to take it.

but it takes a while for you to send videos, usually you send  your outfits, or the tiny bathing suit top you wear while tanning, even one of you in the kitchen in nothing but your tiny apron. (it's the only one that john does not appreciate, popping a boner between briefings as a captain is not hie proudest moment.)

but as the months go longer and longer, you get more and more desperate. your toys are reserved for times like this, a small bullet vibrator and a thick 8-inch dildo. it's nowhere near as nice as fucking your men but it'll have to do for the time being.

and you know them being away is not their fault and they'd be home in an instant if they could choose to be; but if you have to deal with your pent-upness, so do they.

so you set up your phone, leaning it on the lamp that sits on your bedside table, so it captures your entire body, covered only by sheer light-blue lingerie and your locket, as you sink down the length of your dildo, vibrator pressed to your clit. you send four different videos, one for each of them, in the order they came into your life (you think it's cute, they're one picture away from firebombing the whole country they're in and flying home).

you: just something to hold you over until you get back!

kyle: so good for us babe.

soap: yer evil bonnie.

soap: my arm can't keep up with this

sr: birdie thinks it's real funny now

you: i do

sr: not gonna be so funny when we get home, yeah? might have to give you a refresher about what happens teasing birds.

price: 6:30am tomorrow, get everything you need in order because you aren't moving for the foreseeable future.

*you loved a message*

[highdramas]

ring of fire | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), power imbalance (reader is a resident and jack is her attending), drug use (they smoke weed bc they deserve it), references to sex but no explicit content

word count: 1.7k

summary: you like your little rituals with your attending.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this was born out of the fact that i want to smoke weed with jack abbot. that's all! not proofread so apologies for any errors <3

johnny cash plays on his speaker system and you sit, cross legged on the floor, an ashtray burning on his coffee table. he’s sat on the couch, legs spread, his head leaned back. you can tell that he aches, today– you could see it in his gait as you left work together, elbows brushing. you don’t know at what point it became ritual to smoke weed with your attending at 7am when you got off. you don’t know when it became typical to expect that you would fall asleep in his bed more nights than not. you don’t know when it became normal to brush your teeth alongside him, making eye contact in the mirror.

for what it’s worth, you haven’t found a reason to complain yet.

you turn jack’s zippo over in your hand while he settles, his prosthetic set to the side. you slide a joint out of your pack and place it between your lips. your thumb rubs at the engraved service dates on the lighter as you admire the owner. he catches the look as you finally spark and inhale– and it feels like you are just a bit lighter. you take another quick puff before jack says, “don’t hog it.” he tsks. “greedy.”

blowing the smoke in his direction, you shrug your shoulders innocently. “i’ve waited for this all day,” you say before passing it along to him.

the second smoke is passing from his lips, he lets out a long, satisfied groan, that you feel in every atom of your body. “yeah. me too.” passing it back to you, he continues to rub at the end of his leg, sore from supporting his body weight for far too many hours.

you smoke together in comfortable quiet until your eyelids feel heavier and the worries of the day feel far away. you slink from your spot on his plush carpet to beside him on the couch. his hand goes to your thigh. your head rests against his. you each close your eyes and enjoy the moment. “you tired?” he asks, painting stars into your skin with the pad of his finger. when you shake your head– you’re rarely ready to go to bed immediately upon getting home– he gets that knowing smirk. “you hungry?”

“i could eat a horse.”

“mmm– that’s my girl.” he fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens up doordash, sliding it into your hand. “my usual, please.”

you place your order to your favorite breakfast burrito spot– charged to his card, obviously. you recline and stretch your legs out across his lap. he rubs your foot with one hand. there’s nothing exceptional or different about the moment, but the easy domesticity is something that you still haven’t quite gotten adjusted to yet.

your partnership was born out of the fact that, on many levels, you two were the same. reclusive tendencies, a disposition to unhealthy coping habits, a therapist who tells them that they need to spend more time with people, not just patients– and, technically, your therapist didn’t say that you couldn’t find companionship with someone from work. it was born sitting out at the park across the street from the hospital. it always ended with everyone leaving, except the two of you– finding reasons to sit out there for hours before you accepted that you needed to get home. it was his idea for you to come over that first night– drink a beer, watch a little tv, before you would make the short walk to your place. one night became two, walking back to your place become crashing on his couch. he struck gold when he looked at you with a little coy grin and asked, “you like to smoke?”

“like, cigarettes?” you had asked, incredulous.

“nah, not my brand of death wish. weed.”

“of course i do.”

abbot liked to say that he smoked to help the pain, and while you knew that was true… you could see it wash over him, relax him after a day that deregulated his nervous system.

then, smoking became long stares amidst the smoke. at some point, you had crossed his living room and slid up next to him and bit your lip and he couldn’t take it anymore, and he kissed you– his resident.

definitely wasn’t above board. but, assessing the risk… you spent every day making the most stressful, important decisions that a person can make. to choose to spend your hazy mornings with abbot is the easiest one that you make in a day.

and, what are they gonna do, really? you don’t know. hell– you don’t know if you care. you know abbot doesn’t care, because when you first voiced the concern, you got an actual laugh out of him. “don’t– you’re gonna make my stomach hurt,” he had said. “i give two shits what gloria has to say.”

“you hurting?” you ask carefully. your hand plays with the curls at the back of his neck. your eyes carefully drink him in.

“not now.” there’s a playfulness in his eyes– even if he was hurting, he has the perfect poker face. you’ve learned how to identify the cracks in it, though, the small tells that he has. the slight wince or the rubbing of his calf tell you everything that you need to know. but you can tell, right now, that he’s being earnest with you. “i feel fan-fucking-tastic.” his eyes follow where his hand goes on your leg. he massages circles into your thigh, up near the juncture of your hip. then, he brings it back down to your calf, then your foot once more. “how do you feel?”

“fan-fucking-tastic,” you echo with a lazy smile. “like i could smoke another.”

this gets a laugh from him and he grabs your joint box from the coffee table. “don’t gotta tell this old man twice.” he pops it between his lips. “gimme a light.”

grabbing his zippo, you push yourself up onto your knees. the flame from the lighter reflects back at you in his eyes as you ignite the end of his joint, watching him inhale. smoke envelopes you like a warm hug, and with it still pinched between his two fingers, he pulls you in to kiss.

it makes you laugh. thinking about your coworkers seeing the two of you like this. you think you’ve put on a pretty good front, all things considered– you don’t avoid each other during shift, but your interactions would never lead one to believe that this is what you’re doing in your spare time. in fact, there’s been a few moments of vocal sparring about the course of treatment for a patient. you loved those moments. you loved challenging and being challenged by abbot. you wouldn’t give any of it up, if you didn’t have to.

sighing into his mouth, your back arches until your chest presses against his. he extends his arm as not to accidentally light your hair on fire– you’ve seen that once or twice in the ER– but still pulls you closer with the free hand. he has this casual confidence about him when he touches you. he touches you like he knows how to play your body like an instrument– to his credit, he sort of does. you’re not overly experienced when it comes to love or sex, but one thing you know for sure is that it’s never felt like this. you don’t know if it could feel like this with anyone but jack.

he’s guiding the joint back to your mouth when there’s a knock on the door, signalling the arrival of your food. you move to stand up but he shakes his head, adjusting himself back into his prosthetic. “sit your ass down,” he says with that playful smile, sauntering to the door shirtless and beautiful.

you finish the second joint and then dig in. he says something that makes you laugh so hard, a piece of bacon goes flying from your mouth. that makes him laugh so hard he nearly keels over. by the end, the wrappers are tucked away in the take-out bag and you’re a giggling heap on the sofa.

it dissipates, and you lay on the couch with your back to his front. you’re both too tired for sex, tonight– and emotions aren’t running quite that high, either. that’s usually reserved for those particularly hard days, where the only way to break through is to pile into the shower with the steam and let him have his way with you– in his dedicated, steady, perfect way. today was a good day. long, but good.

love is a burning thing, johnny cash croons as the two of you lay there. you look at the ashtray, with the smoldering remains of the two joints, and you smirk to yourself. jack must feel you shift, because his hand travels up from your hip to your waist. “we should get to the bed,” he says into your neck. “don’t got black out curtains out here, and i know how cranky you get.”

“i do not,” you pout, but you really do get cranky.

the two of you push yourself up, the exhaustion starting to settle into your bones. you grab at your favorite throw blanket of his and sling it over your shoulder. he looks you up and down and his hand lands on your ass as the two of you make your way into his room. it’s all navy and cream, mementos from his life and his service, coloring in the picture of him. you yelp and smack his chest, which makes him grin and catch your hand, pressing a long kiss to your palm.

you brush your teeth, side by side. he tugs your hair back for you while you get ready to wash your face. you lean before him and help him out of his prosthetic, putting it in its designated spot in his room. when the two of you finally hit the mattress– after you drew the black out curtains, of course– he only has time to sling a heavy arm across your waist and tug you in before you’re both dead to the world.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I would love to read an imagine of TF141 and what they’d do together with the reader on vacation and you can choose any destination of your choice! Hot topical to glaciers!

Thank you!

I could have gone spicy with this. The fact that I didn't is a testament to my self-control. While there is a little heat, most of this is just straight up fluff. It's all cuteness. Good feelings only. Pure comfort. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): established relationship, fluff, flirting, kissing, mild suggestive themes, brief mention of alcohol

Word Count: 1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

The stars above you are white against the dark sky. The crisp, cool Pacific Northwest air sends a slight chill across your skin. A shiver passes over you, and you snuggle closer to John, seeking his warmth. He sighs contentedly, arm tightening as you press into his side. The swimming dock rocks softly, lulling you toward sleep.

It’s quiet out on the lake. No lights. No noise. It’s nice to get away from everything—to spend time with your husband that doesn’t involve home.

“I’m happy we came, John,” you sigh.

“You like the cabin?”

You nod. “It’s peaceful.”

John's lips lightly press against your temple. "I'm happy you joined me."

Whenever John leaves for a trip to the cabin, it’s almost always a hunting or fishing trip with his team. Even they need to cool off after a mission. But John didn’t ask them to come. He brought you to his favorite place.

His fingers lightly curve under your chin, tilting your head upward. Closing the distance, John greets you with a kiss that melts you down to your toes.

He smiles softly. “Up for a little swim?”

You laugh. “It’s a bit chilly. And it’s dark!”

John grins and then pushes up to his feet, removing his clothes until he’s down to absolutely nothing. His pale butt is on full display in the moonlight.

"John!" you protest, but he’s already diving in.

You sit up, startled, watching the rippling dark water. A beat, and then he resurfaces. “Join me.”

With heat rising in your cheeks, you follow his lead. You do not dive as gracefully.

As you resurface, treading water, John cozies up to your, reaching for you beneath the surface. Your legs wrap around his middle, the two of you silently floating under the stars. The water is cold but you hardly care. John is warm, and so are his kisses.

They are cute at first, little peaks that become deeper, making your core clench with anticipation. The chilly water is a distant thing in your mind. All you know is John, and this moment, and all the days you have ahead with him.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s hot in Miami. The beach is packed.

But Kyle is uncaring of the crowd, too busy with the remote-control toy excavator you bought him just for this beach trip.

“How’s the digging?” you ask, flipping a page in your book. You lounge under an oversized umbrella.

Kyle moves the joystick with his thumb. The yellow toy excavator picks up a chunk of sand and dumps it to the side. “I’m going to have the biggest hole on the beach.”

You nod, and lightly pat his shoulder, returning to your book.

There are a few minutes of silence between you before Kyle puts the remote control down and turns to look at you.

“What?” you prompt as Kyle continues to stare.

“I’m bored. Wanna go play mermaids in the ocean?”

Inserting the bookmark, you close your book and set it aside. “Absolutely I do.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’ve never done this before, Johnny.”

“I know, love. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Johnny holds your hands in his. "Being scared is nothing to be ashamed of."

Before you is a mountainous slope covered in snow. Plenty of people are already on it, descending to the bottom on skis and snowboards. Some are lightning fast with others meander slowly. It looks fun—really, it does—but this is completely new to you.

When Johnny said vacation in the Alps, you didn’t think this. You were imagining a fancy cabin with nice food, a hot tub in the snow, and steamy sex next to a roaring fire.

“I’ll hold on to you. The whole way down. We’ll do this together.”

“You won’t let me fall?”

Johnny’s gloved hands squeeze yours in reassurance. “It’s just the bunny hill.”

“For children. I’m not a child.” "Oh, aye. It's for wee ones. But also, for newbies. Besides, I'll be with ya." He winks. "Won't let anything happen."

"That is not reassuring," you mutter, the snowboard wobbling slightly under your feet.

Johnny is the only thing keeping you upright. He grips you tightly, completely at ease in the snow.

“Do you promise?” you ask.

Johnny releases one of your hands to move his goggles into place. He lightly taps his helmet against yours.

“Promise.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Her sisters are in Greece."

"You Brits like to steal everything."

Simon chuckles. "Throw a rock in here and you'd hit something that came from somewhere else."

He steps away from the statue, turning to move on to another. You follow him, trying to see what he sees.

“I wouldn’t take you for the museum type.”

"Why?" asks Simon, arching an eyebrow.

You gesture at him, and Simon snorts. “Fair point,” he replies, glancing down at himself. He looks more ready to jump on the back of a sportbike rather than tour a museum.

Simon moves on to a new statue, head titled slightly as he peers up at it. “I like museums. They’re calm. Quiet. I can take my time. No one needs me. No one expects anything from me.”

He says it so casually, but you hear the underlying sigh. There is something heavy beneath it. A weight he carries but you can’t identify what it may be.

“I can be here for hours,” he murmurs.

“So…no pub crawls?”

Simon attempts to stifle a laugh. “Love a good pub crawl. Johnny and I go on them all the time. He always thinks he can out drink me.”

“Does he?”

“Never,” grins Simon.

He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers. You slide your hand into his, the warmth of him chasing away your worry.

Simon pulls you in close, two of you leaving the statues behind.

[girlfromflor]

previous | part 3 (final) | pack!141 x omega!reader, who has a backstory with simon.

their first attempt at trying to make you and ghost get along wasn’t quite successful as they hoped it would be, but slowly they manage to make you and simon share spaces more often – like the living room, or even hanging out in johnny's room without complaining – and have some quality time together. you’d exchange small words and only when necessary, but that was already a big win. it got easier and easier to plan something bigger. it wasn't until a whole month of their not-so-subtle attempts that things finally felt right  – more than they ever expected it. john listened and watched his boys with all the care and attention in the world and decided to take matters into his hands, like the pack alpha he has always been. he decided to make a proper dinner night with everyone included, a way to have the moment all of you have been needing to reassure the new dynamics that have been settling within the pack, but also make it a way for you to properly talk with ghost for the first time. you’ve been living with them for a few months now, how could you not spend much time as a pack? – he knew you weren’t exactly a pack yet, but he’d make sure that didn’t last long. 

so, that’s how you found yourself sitting between kyle and johnny. they work well in keeping you entertained as john goes to simon’s room to call him so you can all eat together. john had cooked with your help whilst you all engaged in light talking about your lives – or rather, theirs. ghost would pass by once in a while, not wanting to be the “killjoy” in the room. you’d always be polite towards him, quietly bringing him as a subject within the conversation or even directly addressing him – which he answered with a three word sentence and a shrug, most of the time. once john is back he settles on the other side of the table, sitting across from you and the betas, and ghost takes his side. the dinner goes by smoothly, you and the alpha who seems to despise you less and less often used having a mouth full as an excuse to remain in silence, but neither of the others seemed to mind.

it was the very first time you all felt like things were in their rightful place, and that started to happen more and more frequently. simon would ask things about you – he even started to ask about you to the boys like “where’s she at?” or “what’s she doing?” – and you would do small things, like when you were making tea for everyone and ghost’s was particularly stronger because he said once that that’s how he’d take his tea. little exchanges of words turned into full conversations, the cold – hesitant – interactions turned into genuine smiles from you and playful remarks from him. you started to make it more clear that you saw him truly for the person that he was showing himself to be, and not only for his callsign and skull mask. and then, in one random ass day, you find out – or, more specifically, he tells you – what his name is. you all but cry right as the words slip through his mask-covered lips. 

“are you… are you serious?” is all you can speak, the words coming out weird like they’re not even your own. the tone in your voice is so serious he thinks it wouldn’t be a great idea to make a lame joke to lighten the mood – like he grew used to, getting back a bit to being the careless teenager he once was.

“yeah… why?” he answers, dark brown eyes trying to take in what you’re expressing through your features because he can’t smell anything from you – something he started to hate, he thinks to himself.

“uh… just, something i told kyle once–” you cut yourself, feeling emotional. great,  now not only you’d think about your lost friend when you’d stare into ghost’s eyes, you’d have to call him by your friend’s name too. you quickly realize that it’d be less painful to call him ‘ghost’, but you also thought that maybe you could play pretend sometimes, giving in to the longing that plagues your mind from the friendship you never got to have closure from.

simon only hums, showing that he’s understanding even though he’s not sure what he should think about it. so instead of wondering and feeding unlikely possibilities in his mind – overthinking, but he will never admit it – he goes to kyle. on the very same day he finds himself knocking on the beta’s door, after ensuring that you were cuddling johnny on the couch.

“come in,” kyle calls from inside. as simon steps inside he can see kyle moving on his bed to sit up. “oh, si…” he says, sounding a bit too surprised before questioning, “what do you need?”

“just… i told my name to her today…” he starts without much ceremony, watching as kyle shifts in his position almost as if he's physically uncomfortable. interesting, he thinks.

“did you, now? what’d she say?” he asks, trying not to seem so worried. he was afraid you had fallen into anxiety’s arms like it usually happens when you have a nightmare.

“nothing, really… just looked at me like i was lying, even asked if i was serious.” he replies, honestly. he watches as kyle reaches to grab his hand, pulling him closer until they are sitting side by side on bed. “and then she mentioned you. so i thought maybe you knew something…”

kyle stays silent for a moment, thinking if telling simon would be something you’d be mad about. he brings their hands to his lap, brushing simon’s knuckles with his thumb in a tender manner before speaking, “she had a best friend in town when she was younger, and he was named simon…” he can smell the alpha’s discomfort, but he keeps talking. “she said that she was still a teenager when they saw each other for the last time. said he ran away.”

simon heart stops in his chest. the beta can see the sorrow that burns in his skin, so he projects his scent to try and calm him down. simon is as still as a stone – thinking what he thought was impossible –, but after a few minutes too long he manages to voice out his inner turmoil. “i… i don’t think i ever told you that, but i had a friend too, back where my parents left me when i was younger.” he glances at kyle, who is patiently listening, before he adds, “she was an omega, and i left her behind… that’s why i couldn’t bring myself near her, y’know?”

the younger man only nods, happy at the confession despite its heavy background. they sit there sharing soft caresses while kyle decides to make a confession of his own. “you don’t think it’s possible… that it is her?” he questions carefully, not wanting to overstep a boundary, but simon’s reply catches him off guard.

“yeah…” his voice is gentle, almost a whisper. “i mean, i’ve only thought about it after today... just don’t want to–” his voice cracks, but he clears his throat pushing the fear away. he shakes his head as he speaks, “i can’t be wrong, kyle.”

“we’ll get through this, si. all of us.” is his answer. he hugs simon’s shoulders and the alpha allows the warmth that spreads within him at the motion.

it takes exactly one day of researching your past for simon to make up his mind and decide that it is time to see this though. he had gathered enough information – things you’ve said to them along the months – to know that it was you. he waits until you’re in the couch with john and johnny, watching a weird tv show they seemed to share a deep interest in. he steps inside the living calling for kyle to join them, who comes from the kitchen a second later. he stands there looking at you and you sit up straighter on the couch. you don’t have time to question what’s wrong because – after getting elbowed by kyle – simon starts talking, very nervously so.

“so, uh… i– this is not a big of a deal,” he lies, but they all ignore it. you have your eyes focused on him. “just, god, i’ll just take my mask off and, uh– yeah…”

he’s so awkward you almost want to laugh, but you don’t because that seemed too mean of you. you watch very intently as he steps closer to the couch, not even realizing that john and johnny were standing up. simon’s hands reach for the hem of his balaclava, and suddenly you grow very nervous, curious and a bit apprehensive. i swear, you think, that if they look anything alike i’m gonna lose it. it was enough that the simons had the same eyes. you take in his slightly chapped lips, blond eyebrows and very blond hair. the long healed scars here and there adding a dangerous charm to his features. much to your dismay, you realize way too quickly that they do in fact look very much alike. so much so, that ghost seemed simply an older, scarred version of the boy you held so much fondness for – wait.

“oh my god,” comes your breathless voice. the words stumble out your lips before you can stop them. “simon…?” you say, uncertainty clouding your thoughts before you watch him nod in his own hesitation. you can’t deny it nor ignore the realization that washes over you, your scent masking drops completely as your hands come to your face. and that’s when it hits him, he can smell you. “simon…” it’s quiet for a moment. john watches the scene unfold from where he stands near the entrance to the living room, kyle and johnny moving to stand beside him as they eye you and simon. it made sense that simon wouldn’t have remembered you immediately, he spent way too many years trying to push away the memories of you – the memories of his mistake. but you? you tried to keep the same memories with all you could, because that was all you had.

and poor simon is so lost. he expects you to back away, to maybe even run and lock yourself away in your room out of pure disgust. or maybe you’d scream at him, intoxicate the room with the smell of your disappointment, wrath and sorrow. you could push him, slap him, punch him – whatever, any harmful reaction would’ve been welcome, because it was you. god, it was you, it had been all this time and he blindly avoided you like a plague. if you didn’t hate him enough before you must certainly do now – except, you don’t. nothing could’ve ever prepared simon for your reaction. he can see it happening but he doesn't acknowledge it until you're drowning in your tears. soft sobs and hiccups leave your lips as you bury your head in your palms. your shoulders shake like crazy and they’re all certain that you’re not breathing at all in between your silent crying. that is, until your eyes seek simon in the room and there’s not a single drop of distaste in them. not sadness, not anger, just pure adoration and bliss, the delightful sensation that he’s alive and he’s okay and he’s here. right now, in front of you – not in a nightmare, not in a dream. you move before you can think and when you realize you’re already on him, but all you do is rest your forehead to his chest, arms limp on your sides – like you always did when you were just two awkward teens trying to get through life.

“thank god,” you whisper and it’s just so broken, soft and gentle but so fucking filled with emotion that it drowns everyone in the room. john’s arms come to rest on each of his beta’s shoulders, johnny is already crying and kyle is blinking away the tears as they watch you and simon.

“bloody hell…” simon mumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and there’s a confused little pout on his lips. it’s the first time he gets to smell you without any restraint from you or him, and he lets himself drown in the moment – he allows himself to truly savor this, because he’s sure he’s about to wake up. “you’re alive…” he moves slowly as if to not startle you, right hand resting on your waist as the other finds its place on the back of your head. his nose brushes on your hair, taking in your scent but it did nothing to conceal his craving. so the hand on the back of your head dips to your nape, the very tip of his fingers come to brush down your neck with such tenderness that it leaves a trail of thrill tingling down your skin. you tilt your head slightly, giving him permission to continue and he is so very glad you did, because not even a second later he's sinking his head, nose finding your scent glands like he's a man starved – and you let him, fingers curling on the fabric of his shirt just enough to wrinkle it.

it takes a while for him to step away, his eyes teary and unfocused for a moment before he slowly drops to his knees for you to do the same. your hand leaves his shirt to find his shoulders, balancing your faltering weight on him as you sink your head towards him. you press your face on his scent glands and god, it just made so much sense now. he smells the same, just more mature and a bit aged – just like whiskey – and it has your eyelids fluttering close immediately. when you straighten up and look down at him, there's a new sense of fulfillment taking place in your heart. you reach for his arm, urging him to get up and as he complies, you turn to your boys – your sweet, patient men who had put so much effort into this.

you don't have to say anything. before you can let out a single word johnny is on you, arms hugging your waist as he pulls you to him. you giggle and let him have you for a second before your hand finds the back of his head. you guide him gently to your neck and you can hear the gasp that falls from lips as realization washes over him. he's not as gentle as simon – too eager to finally finally scent you – as his nostrils open to take in as much of your scent as he can. his head rubs on the skin of your shoulders and neck before he backs away and you roll your eyes at his antics. when you move to scent him, his head is already tilted to the side and his reddish eyes are closed, his breath hitches when your nose touches his skin, he couldn’t believe this was happening. his scent is familiar of course, but to be able to smell it directly from the font has you a bit dizzy in his arms.

kyle watches as you disentangle yourself from johnny’s grasp, your eyes find him instantly where he's standing with john, who you glance over right after. it's john who moves first, offering his hand to you which you gladly accept. you move until your back is lightly touching the alpha’s chest. kyle is right in front of you, eyes roaming your features and your hands find his chest, your nose pressing on his collarbone over his shirt and then on his jaw. once you press further to have better access to his skin he puts a hand on your hip. it stays there when he moves to take in your scent, grip tightening as he pushes past the lingering of johnny's scent to seek yours. he leaves a soft peck on your neck before moving you, the hand on your hip urging you to face john.

it's very fitting, really – the fact that simon had to be the first to scent you, while john would be the last. he lets kyle hold you by your hips, his own hands find your cheeks where he leaves a soft caress with his thumbs. then something changes a bit, he does the same thing johnny did, rubbing his face on the juncture of your shoulder and neck – his beard a bit more than just ticklish on your skin –, before his nose found the spot on your neck where your scent was strongest. he's clearly hesitant to let you go, so instead you pull him closer, projecting your scent so he'd feel surrounded by you – at the point, all of them would. you take advantage of the hug-like position to bury your face in his neck – your back pressed on kyle’s chest letting him know that he is a part of this moment just as much as you or john. you stay like that for a moment before you move away, and it reminds you of the very first night you spent in the flat, where you and john squeezed kyle between you two until sleep got the best of you.

when you look for johnny and simon, you find them sitting on the couch watching you. and as you savor your very first moment as a pack, you relish the fact that you wouldn’t trade this for anything else in the world – and neither would them.

a/n: was this rushed ya'll? i don't know, i have mixed feelings about it, let me know what you think. uptade | taglist: @camcvpidd @fruitymoonbeams-blog @throwing-up-butterflies @yearninglustfully @faggotinie @theo-the-danger-mouse

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn��t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!fem!Reader x poly!ilichil

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. HEAVVYYYY breeding kink (they all wanna get reader pregnant). Orgy. MLM behavior. Bondage. Overstimulation. Ball gag. Sex toys. Safe words in place but not used.

| wc: 9k

| aurora's note: self indulgent fic so the reader is plus sized coded... but i tried to make it universal reader friendly as much as possible aside from that! (for poly!ilichil followers, this is ahri canon)

Working on your birthday was less than ideal, truth be told. Months ago, you imagined that you would spend the day at home with the boys, eating your favorite foods that Johnny would make, watching your favorite movies or binge watching a TV show, cuddling up in someone’s arms, and, yeah, probably fucking. Whenever the boys didn’t have work and you could afford time off, you were fucking. The reality was that the boys were so busy that they had to make their limited time together count; and though they couldn’t get the entire day off for you, Taeyong pulled a few strings to get their managers to look the other way as Johnny petitioned to have all the boys take the afternoon off, which the company surprisingly agreed to. But then you had to work. You woke up before the boys stirred, you were out of the house before they were out of bed, and you weren't going to be home until dinner time. Even though Taeyong was home for you, and the boys managed to wiggle out of rehearsals, you were exhausted… You wondered if you would have enough energy for them or you would simply collapse on the couch and later wake up in your pajamas in someone’s bed.

When you left work, you found a familiar car parked outside, and an even more familiar man leaning against the passenger side door, his arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses over his eyes, a toothpick trapped between his teeth as his tongue played with it, a beanie pulled over his head, and his gaze was flicking left to right to check if he was going to be recognized by any passerby. You approached him. When he sensed you nearing, the sound of your footsteps growing ever louder, Jaehyun looked straight ahead to smile at you before pocketing his toothpick. You smiled back just before he wrapped his arms around the small of your back and pulled you against his body so he could lay a passionate kiss on your lips.

“Happy birthday, princess.” He smirked and pulled you in close for another kiss that you were hesitant to participate in due to your position in public. He didn’t take offense. “Wanna get something to eat?”

“Ice cream sounds kinda good.”

You shot him a smile as he took your hand and began leading you down the road to the nearby Baskin Robbins the boys would frequent whenever they were waiting to pick up you from work. Jaehyun held the door open as you entered. The two of you approached the self-order kiosk at the front rather than ordering with an employee at the desk. As you tapped on the screen to look at the ice cream options, Jaehyun snuck up behind you, feeling you up with his hands splayed on your hips at first before they risked venturing down to knead your bare thighs, almost pushing your short skirt up. Immediately, you shrugged Jaehyun off. People were beginning to stare, and you worried that someone would recognize him and start taking photos. Your worst nightmare was getting caught. You were already putting a lot at risk trying to be a normal couple just for your birthday… He knew better. He needed to be more careful.

Jaehyun retreated for your own comfort. However, when you didn’t pick anything to eat, he reached around your body, his chest pressed against your back, so that he could tap on the screen to order caramel for you and chocolate for himself. He paid with his card before you could protest. When the order was confirmed and the receipt with a number was spit out of the machine, Jae took the piece of paper before leading you to one of the booths in the corner of the building, which was secluded slightly from the rest of the few patrons enjoying their ice cream too. Mostly it was just parents treating their kids to an afternoon snack. There were only about two other couples there to share ice cream like you and Jaehyun were.

“How was work?” he asked, inspecting the number on the receipt to wait for it to be called.

You gave a shy reply while glancing around. Work was fine, it was boring, no one remembered that it was your birthday, so you tried not to make a big fuss about it.

“We’ll do something special tonight, princess, I promise—”

“173!” an employee called out into the speakers.

Jaehyun slid out of the booth to go grab the ice cream. When he returned, he set the tray on the table before returning to his seat across from you, immediately grabbing a spoon and digging into the chocolate flavor he ordered to be self-indulgent. For the first few minutes, Jaehyun ate without any hesitancy or concern. He dipped into the chocolate with the tip of his spoon, brought it up to his mouth, then sucked off the ice cream before going again. Fairly simple. But when he noticed that your spoon was dry from going untouched, he furrowed his brows with confusion.

“Why’re you not having any, hmmm?”

“I’m not feeling hungry anymore.”

“Why?” He popped the spoon out of his mouth. “Did I actually upset you in line?”

“No… I just… I just realized I’m not hungry, that’s all.”

Jaehyun sighed, scooping into the caramel ice cream before lifting it back up for you, teasing the tip of the spoon at your mouth, waiting for you to give in. You stared at him as you accepted it. Obviously if you didn’t comply, he’d get more suspicious of you, so you figured that a spoonful or two was a safe price to pay to avoid having him figure out what was going on and in turn punish you later. Then, three spoonfuls later, Jaehyun set the spoon down.

He licked the dried sugar on his lips. “We’re going home.”

Finally. Despite the leftover, melting ice cream left on the tray, he was content and wasn’t going to subject you to more silent investigations.

Jaehyun opened the car door for you once you walked back, and the whole drive home he made sure to keep his hand glued to your bare leg, his long fingers kneading the fat of your thigh just below the hem of your short skirt. You tried to ignore him. Once you arrived home, Jaehyun turned off the car, pried his hand away from your thigh, then ran to open your car door for you and took you hand as he helped you out then followed you into the house.

The second you opened the house’s front door, you were cornered by Yuta, Doyoung, and Jaehyun. You hardly had any room to enter… Jaehyun had to force them to move slightly so that he could close the door and lock it so you really had no where to go.

Doyoung tilted your chin up with his index finger propped underneath it before he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Look at you, pretty girl,” Hyuck complimented with a confident chuckle. “Did you get dressed up for us?”

Jaehyun’s hands ran up your thighs, scrunching the fabric of your skirt upwards just enough so that they could see your safety shorts underneath. Yuta exhaled with lust at the sight. He dropped to his knees, getting the chance to inspect you up close.

“Those shorts are too short, princess,” Johnny said from the side.

“That’s why they’re called safety shorts,” you snipped back.

He raised an offended brow at you, yet he elected not to say anything, instead waiting to see what someone else who was within closer proximity would do first. Yuta let his curiosity get the best of him. He pressed the tip of his index finger over your clothed core then slowly, very slowly, dragged it towards your clit. You moaned and fell forward a bit.

“She’s dripping already,” he informed the others.

“The Hell did you do to her, Jae?” Mark inquired.

“Took her for some ice cream. Felt her up a li’l bit. The usual. You know how rare it is to see her in skirts, I just couldn’t help myself… Isn’t that right, baby?”

You whimpered when he began nibbling on your earlobe gently.

It was true, you had no interest in wearing skirts out in public for various reasons but mostly having to do with your own self-consciousness that convinced you that you weren't fit enough to wear them. You feared being judged. Especially at work where you desperately wanted people’s approval, you felt like it was wrong to wear a skirt and parade around the office like that… But the boys liked it. They were the only ones who got to see you in shorts, dresses that ended above your knees, and short skirts that showed more than you cared for; but it was your birthday, and you wanted to feel pretty, so you dressed up. Only, the staring at the ice cream shop brought your self-consciousness back.

“Did you wear this just to rile us up, baby?” Jungwoo questioned you.

You were too embarrassed to acknowledge their questions properly. You avoided eye contact with them and kept your lips pursed together as you looked down and shooed the boys’ touches away from your trembling body.

“Why didn’t you eat any of the ice cream I so kindly bought you?” Jaehyun chipped in, finally circling back to the dreaded topic you thought he’d abandoned at Baskin Robbins.

All the boys halted their actions to wait for a truthful answer.

You gulped. “I hate how I look in skirts, okay— You know that… I hate wearing them ‘cause my body isn’t made for them, and I just… I was reminded of that when we went for food, okay… I didn’t want to get bloated… I wanted to be pretty for you guys when I got home.”

The boys hesitated. Hands were pressed against your thighs, Jaehyun’s erection was rubbing against your ass, and Johnny’s face soured. He was always the angriest when it came to you thinking you had to be embarrassed around them— They loved you for who you were, and the fact that you ever doubted that and thought that you needed to change how you looked, that pissed him off to no end.

“Jungwoo, take off her shorts,” he ordered gruffly, his arms crossed over his chest. You gulped when Jungwoo’s fingers moved towards the hem of your shorts. “But keep her panties on.”

So Jungwoo pulled the fabric down while Jaehyun kept your skirt pushed up. While they all expected to find a cute pair of lingerie underneath, when you were revealed, they all paused at the sight. You got even more embarrassed.

“No underwear? Naughty, naughty birthday girl,” Yuta teased, kneading your thighs open so that they could all see.

Jungwoo couldn’t help himself. He leaned in to devour you within an instant, his tongue peeking between your folds in order to flick your clit just enough so that he could suck on it a bit until he was suddenly pulled away via his hair by an upset Johnny. The room waited for his orders. He was always the one in charge, even for the other Doms, so they waited for his instructions.

“Grab her.”

You tried to fight off the hands that grabbed each of your limbs so that you couldn’t escape before Jaehyun took your waist, spun you around, then threw you over his shoulder. A quick smack to your ass made you jolt. You'd fucked up royally… Yeah, okay, you wore the skirt to mess with the boys, and you figured that maybe when you got home you would get some action with one of them so you elected to not wear any underwear— But you never thought in a million years that it would result in you fessing up to not wanting the ice cream Jaehyun bought for you and that would lead to all eight boys getting upset and quite literally dragging you upstairs. You tried to fight them off with closed-handed hits against Jaehyun’s back, but all he did was chuckle at your futile attempts. He smacked your ass once more for good measure.

The nine of you collected in Yuta’s bedroom where Doyoung pulled the comforter off and arranged the sheets so that there wouldn’t be as much of a mess to clean up later… Hopefully… Then Jaehyun placed you on top of the mattress. All of the boys laughed and lunged forward to grab you when you pushed yourself up to your feet and tried to book it towards the door.

“Silly girl,” Hyuck cooed in your ear.

Seven boys pinned you down to the bed while Yuta uncoiled sets of white rope that he kept for times like this. You shook your head in protest. You were sorry! You were silly for thinking that you couldn’t wear a pretty skirt or eat ice cream on your birthday, alright! You were really, truly sorry!

“That’s nice, baby, I’m glad you can admit that,” Taeyong said with a genuinely relieved smile.

But your apologies didn’t matter because it was far too late. With the boys pinning you down, Yuta began tying your legs in a frog-legged position so that you were left completely open as Mark held your left knee and Jungwoo held the right. Mark’s hand held the back of your head so that you were forced to sit up just slightly so that they could grab your hands and tie them to your legs, and you were made to watch the entire time. The boys holding you worked together to remove your shirt prior to your hands being fully secured, but they left your pretty blue bra that matched your skirt that was flipped up onto your stomach, exposing you to the boys who finally stilled so that they could spend a good minute or so just admiring you.

“Let me go first. She’s been teasing me in that short skirt ever since I picked her up from work.”

The boys cleared a path for Jaehyun to step forward. You were quick to notice how Jaehyun wasn’t wasting any precious time since his pants were already unbuttoned and his pants and boxers were pushed under his hard cock that he held in his hand.

“Wait, daddy, please, I said I’m sorry—”

Jaehyun ignored your pleas without a safe word to catch his attention or bring him to a full stop. However, Yuta was less than impressed with all the talking. He went back to his collection of toys and pulled out a ball gag which he shoved into your mouth and tied around the back of your head before moving to let Jaehyun proceed.

“Two fingers if we should stop, don’t forget.” Jaehyun’s warning was a reminder that while you couldn’t speak, you could still put a stop to what was going on whenever you wanted. When you nodded, Jaehyun smiled. “Good girl.”

You moaned behind the gag as Jaehyun lined his tip up with your wet entrance. He was thick— Just the tip of him already made your entrance stretch a bit, but that was Jaehyun and Johnny’s favorite part. They liked feeling your tight walls make desperate attempts to accommodate their large cocks, but everyone was fairly sure you'd never loosen up for them. Maybe it was because your body also liked it. As more of him slid inside of you, Jaehyun steadied himself by putting his hands on either side of your waist while leaning over your body a bit, then his fingers grabbed ahold of your skirt.

“Such a pretty color,” he complimented as he squeezed the last two inches inside of you. Your face scrunched. “And such a pretty face.” He grabbed your chin with one of his hands so that he could stare at you as he began thrusting slowly. “Look at how gorgeous you are, princess.” He chuckled to himself. “Daddy’s perfect birthday girl…” He grunted as he hit a deep, sensitive spot that made you squeeze him. “Yeah, you like that—” He bullied that spot to keep getting that reaction out of you until you were panting and squirming, silently begging for reprieve, but you didn’t hold up your fingers, so Jaehyun went even faster. “I’m going to cum in you, baby.”

You paused.

Jaehyun snickered. “Don’t look at me like that.”

The pace of his thrusts changed to something slightly slower so that he could focus on hitting his pelvis harder against yours as he got closer to his orgasm. Jaehyun was a bit of a marathon-runner when it came to sex. He could go for hours and hours, unless he didn’t want to. He knew what made him cum, and he knew that if he continued to stay balls-deep in you, he would cum easier than if he just fucked you with the first few inches or bullied you at a fast pace that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Not to mention, the dirty talk was doing it for him. The unprotected, risky sex… The short skirt around your waist… Your breasts bouncing with every deep thrust… Jaehyun grunted deeply as he finally pulled you all the way onto his length and came. You felt it as it happened. The warmth of his cum as it pooled in you, the amount he pumped in which seemed like more than usual. Even Jaehyun couldn’t contain his pride or the grin plastered to his face.

“Finally… gonna get you knocked up… like I always wanted…”

After his orgasm faded completely, Jaehyun slowly slid out with a grunt, and he looked down to watch as his cum began seeping out of your hole. He tsked his tongue with discontent before using his index finger to push his cum back inside. You tensed at the feeling. He was ramping up a bit in pace and depth like he was purposefully trying to finger you towards an orgasm— Before it could go too far, though, Jungwoo pushed Jaehyun out of the way slightly so that he could get a taste of your wetness mixed with Jaehyun’s cum. That felt even better. You moaned as Jungwoo’s tongue fucked you, but he neglected your throbbing clit that was begging for attention so that you could cum properly. They knew what they were doing, though. They were waiting to please you so that they could prove a point first.

“Move,” Johnny commanded.

Jungwoo did as he was told in an instant.

With a shove, Mark was brought forward with a shy blush warming his face. He looked around at the rest of the boys for someone else to go next, but Yuta was too excited to see what Mark could do, so no one came to his rescue. In fact, Yuta trapped Mark from behind, and in an attempt to ease Mark into it, Yuta slid his hand around the back of Mark’s neck then pulled him in for a deep, passionate, aggressive kiss. Mark was caught off guard. He let Yuta kiss him for a minute or so before he decided to kiss back, which only got Yuta more involved by reaching down to palm Mark’s erection over his pants. When Yuta’s tongue won the battle for dominance in their kiss, his hand drifted under Mark’s pants to pull out his cock. Mark bit Yuta’s lip. That only egged on Yuta more, so he pushed Mark’s pants down to his ankles with a chuckle before he bit Mark’s lip in retaliation.

“Fuck her nice and hard for us,” Yuta mumbled against Mark’s lips. Mark nodded. “Good boy.”

With a gulp, Mark turned to face you entirely, his erection bobbing just slightly until he grabbed it with a steady hand and guided his tip towards your entrance. His nervousness returned. He eyed you as you were waiting motionless in anticipation of what he would be like— Would he be rough like Jaehyun, or would he be his kind, gentle self he always was with you? With a shaky breath, Mark pushed in a bit. He froze about two inches deep… and he stared at you again, his cheeks even redder than before.

“Can you wear skirts like this more often?” he asked, running his hands over your waist where your skirt was scrunched up. “You look so pretty.” He swiftly looked away from you out of embarrassment.

“Keep going,” Yuta said in the background.

Once Mark was inside of you, there was a complete switch up. The nervous, shy demeanor that had him shaking in front of you disappeared the moment Yuta helped him thrust all the way inside, and instead he bit his lip in concentration as he began taking control by quickly fucking you without any more hesitancy.

Yuta grinned wickedly over Mark’s shoulder. He looked down to watch where Mark’s cock met your slick entrance. “Be a good boy and fill her up for us,” Yuta egged on in Mark’s ear. Mark nodded quickly and obediently. “How does she feel?”

“So fucking wet,” he moaned out in one breath.

Yuta chuckled. “I bet.”

With Yuta’s hands on his hips to guide him, Mark fucked you as fast and hard as he was physically capable of. His head tilted forward, the bangs of his long hair falling over his eyes to cover up the pretty faces he was making as he let out moans in the same pattern that he bucked his hips forward. He certainly wasn’t being gentle like usual. Something overcame his senses— Likely Yuta’s doing— that melted Mark’s brain until he was focused solely on achieving his orgasm.

Yuta chuckled once more. “You’re really desperate for her.”

Mark squeezed your thighs with his hands. “‘C-course I am…” He bit his lip harder to hold back a moan, however that wasn’t sufficient enough for Yuta who wanted to hear the pretty sounds Mark had boiling inside of him. So as Mark continued to fuck you, Yuta turned Mark’s face then kissed him passionately again. That set Mark off. “Close—” he moaned into Yuta’s mouth.

“Already?” Hyuck teased somewhere out of sight.

Yuta pulled on Mark’s hair to keep it out of their way. “Go on.”

Mark’s hands held onto you for dear life while his tip hit a deep, sensitive spot that made you clench around him as he began cumming inside of you, his moans leaking directly into Yuta’s mouth.

“Good boy.”

Mark moaned again, and he pulled out until his tip was hanging at your entrance, then he fucked his cum back into you one more time for good measure.

“Let me have my turn with her now.”

Mark nodded obediently. With a pathetic, submissive whimper, his softening cock slipped out of you, and he stepped to the side while Yuta’s hands were on his hips to guide him away.

The second Mark was out of his way, Yuta lined his tip up with your entrance, then with a deep grunt he thrusted all the way into you in one, rough go which made you whimper and struggle against your restraints, however there wasn’t enough slack for you to fight back against him. He had an extremely rough grasp on your hip using his right hand while his left held the band of your bra that was directly between your tits so that he could easily support himself as he fucked into you as hard and fast as he could. It was obvious that he wasn’t like the others who were trying their best to take their time with you because they wanted to make it count when there were so many other boys that still needed to have their turn with you. No, Yuta was always different from them. Honestly, he was the type of guy to just leave you tied up on his bed with your legs spread, toys plugging each of your holes, a vibrator taped against your clit so that you had to endure orgasm after orgasm without any breaks. But that wasn’t their plan. Yuta was playing along with the whole idea of filling you up, but he was going to do it how he wanted, as per usual, which meant finding a way to make you wish you hadn’t teased them then had the audacity to think poorly of yourself.

“Look at that, pretty girl,” he cooed with a chuckle before reaching to lift your head so that you could also look down at where your bodies met. Leaking around Yuta’s cock was a mixture of cum from everyone who had fucked you. He slammed his hips against yours roughly then said, “Can you feel me in there, princess? Right here?” His fingers danced over your stomach before finding the spot where his tip was, just to show how deep he was inside of you. “How ‘bout this? You feel this?” Suddenly, he had your clit pinched between his thumb and index finger, then he began gently rubbing it. Yuta laughed, “Yeah, you do.” He knew that because of the way your body jolted in response to the overstimulation and your walls clenched because of the sudden pleasure. “I’m close, princess, take my cum for me, like a good girl.”

As if you could do anything… You looked down as Yuta continued to fuck you and play with your clit, but like the ass he could be, he started cumming and immediately abandoned your clit, leaving you on the edge— You squeezed around him in search of your high but that was to his benefit since it milked his cock for everything he was worth. Yuta wasn’t the vocal type by nature. He had to really be into it to make all kinds of noises, yet this time around, it seemed like he was so lost in the moment that he let out a guttural groan as his high disappeared.

Despite the fact that he had cum, however, Yuta didn’t stop. His pace kept up without any indication of slowing down. The others watched, no one protested, not even those who were impatiently waiting their turn, because they knew that if they said or did anything to mess with Yuta while he was fucking you, they were in for a world of torture for at least the next week.

Suddenly, out of fucking nowhere, Jungwoo pushed Yuta to the side, and he quickly replaced Yuta’s cock with his own… He didn’t even thrust to fuck you. He just buried himself in to the hilt and fell forward over your body as he came inside of you. You realized that during the time that Yuta was fucking you, Doyoung had been edging Jungwoo to get him ready for his turn, but he couldn’t last anymore, and rather than let his load go to waste, he rushed his turn.

Yuta aggressively grabbed Jungwoo by his hair and yanked him back so that he was pulled out of you, his cum dripping everywhere. With a frustrated growl, Yuta said, “Don’t ever, ever interfere like that again, brat.”

Johnny handed Yuta a pair of handcuffs which were swiftly used to restrain Jungwoo’s hands behind his back so that he could be handled accordingly. Jungwoo began to apologize profusely. He tried his best to explain that he held back for as long as he could, he wanted to be good and wait his turn like the rest of them, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Yuta pushed Jungwoo in Doyoung and Jaehyun’s direction. More pathetic cries of, “No, wait, wait, I’m sorry!” echoed through the room, all in vain, however, since no one heard a safe word, and the reality was that Jungwoo loved to be manhandled and tamed, so he was secretly having fun though he would never admit it out loud.

“You can take more of me, can’t you, baby girl?” Yuta teased you shortly before he thrusted fully back into you. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you with how hard he fucked you. “Yeah, you can.”

Your core felt sore, so to distract yourself, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Jungwoo choked on Doyoung’s cock, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was scolding Jungwoo with, “If you want to cum so bad without permission and want to get in Yuta’s way… Fine… You can cum.” He slid a vibrating cock ring onto Jungwoo’s overstimulated dick. He tried to protest. He squirmed and whimpered much like you had, but he was well restrained and Doyoung kept Jungwoo’s mouth otherwise occupied. “Brat.”

Your body tensed. Your walls tightened around Yuta’s long cock as a warning of what was to come before the words could even escape you.

Yuta grinned. “Bad girl, you didn’t ask for permission to cum on my cock.” One of his hands wrapped around your neck. “Does watching the boys abuse Woo get you off?”

You nodded while panting as your orgasm faded just as quickly as it approached. If he would’ve been playing with your clit, you would’ve had a stronger orgasm, but he was still neglecting the bud on purpose in the hopes of avoiding giving you an orgasm, which somehow didn’t work.

“Please, hyung, please,” Hyuck’s pathetic voice echoed in the corner. You glanced over to find him jerking himself off and bouncing eagerly on his toes. “Sir, please,” he begged in Johnny and Yuta’s direction, waiting for permission from either of them. Yuta surrendered by finally pulling out of you, and Johnny told him that he could go next. Immediately, Haechan leapt at the opportunity. In one rough motion, he thrusted his thick cock into you, throwing his head back, moaning out, “You’re so fucking wet.” He instantly found a quick and rough pace. It was obvious that he had no patience for teasing or trying to slowly work himself up— He was already worked up; He just wanted to fuck you. “Noona,” he cooed, “do you think we’ll get you pregnant?” He bit his lip and thrusted balls-deep. “I hope we do… I hope it’s me who does it…” He let out a high-pitched moan fueled by his desperation. “T-toy.”

Mark passed a small battery powered bullet shaped vibrator to Hyuck who pressed the side of it against your clit.

“I’m going make you cum, noona, just to make sure you really take everything we give you.” He rolled it around your clit, and he grinned when you moaned. “After all, we’re being so generous today for your birthday, giving you all these gifts. You’ve earned another orgasm, right?”

Your whole body curled into a ball, your frog-tied thighs pressing against your chest, the inside of your thighs clenching around Hyuck’s cock and wrist as he continued to bully you with the toy. “Please,” you mumbled behind the gag.

“Cum on my cock, noona.”

It felt pathetic to cum so fast, but Haechan’s words had really gotten to you. All of them had filled you up or soon would, and the thought of it sticking like he wanted, the thought of them having you tied up day after day, held open to take their loads… You couldn’t hold back your embarrassingly fast orgasm.

Haechan shuddered when your walls fluttered around him. “I’m already close… Please…”

“Cum in her,” Johnny said.

Hyuck’s hips stilled as he let out another moan and let everything go. His arms and thighs tensed, his soft stomach clenched, but the rest of him relaxed with a wave of relief as he emptied every drop inside of you. You felt him pulsing. Every time another stream spilled into you, you felt his cock jump, and he flicked the toy over the top of your clit in unison just to get you to squeeze him again. Finally, Hyuck showed some mercy. Once he was finished, he turned off the toy and tossed it to the side. He brushed his curly hair out of his face then smirked down at you because his confidence convinced him that he’d done his job well, and perhaps he really would succeed ultimately.

Johnny didn’t care. He wanted to move the process along because he was still impatiently waiting for his turn, which would likely come at the end if you had to guess. So while Johnny stepped forward, Hyuck caught the hint and slid out of you— A fair amount of liquid dripped out of you, too, but Hyuck was quick to use his fingers to stuff it back into you, which Johnny didn’t protest because at least there was enough room for the next man to step up to take his turn.

Taeyong.

Honestly, he looked even more nervous than Mark did— Not because he was shy; Taeyong was anything but that. But his nervousness stemmed from the fact that everyone was standing there, watching, chuckling at the way you panted with every thrust one of them gave you, how you so willingly accepted their cum, and how you looked up at him with those lustful eyes which were always his kryptonite. You were perfect in every way in Taeyong’s eyes. There was nothing you could say or do that would convince him you weren't the prettiest, smartest, funniest, most amazing girl in the entire world… And all he wanted was to make you feel good. Whenever you were in Dom space, he was your favorite toy because he was so obedient and so pathetic… Whenever you were in sub space alongside him, the boys always made you play together for their own entertainment because it was hilarious how Taeyong could get so hard just by kissing you. That skirt of yours that you decided to wear on your birthday had him as hard as a rock the second he saw you walk through the front door with Jaehyun, and it wasn’t helping that now you were laying in front of him, tied with your legs spread wide, and Haechan’s fingers in you to plug you full of your boyfriends’ cum.

“Yongie,” Johnny whispered into Taeyong’s ear sensually, “you ever think about getting her pregnant? Hmmm?”

Taeyong gulped.

“You have, haven’t you? Maybe when she lets you fuck her, and you’re rutting into her for so long, holding your orgasm back because you have to wait for permission to cum like a good boy.”

Taeyong’s breath shuddered.

“Good boys want to fill up their noona, right?”

Taeyong palmed himself over his pants until his hand was torn away by Yuta who was circling his two hyungs like a shark.

“You’re our good boy, Yongie.”

Taeyong nodded desperately, licking his dry lips.

Johnny kissed Taeyong’s neck, and Yuta pushed Taeyong’s pants down so that they fell to his ankles, revealing his unbearable hard-on. “Don’t let Hyuck win.”

With Yuta guiding Taeyong’s cock forward, the leader of the group hissed quietly when he saw Hyuck’s fingers slide out from you, and his tip was quickly brought forward to plug you up instead. His whole body shuddered. Yuta kissed one side of Taeyong’s neck while Johnny kissed the other… Taeyong’s eyes looked empty, like there wasn’t a thought in that brain of his, not while your entrance felt so good and the boys were teasing him.

“Can I, noona?” Taeyong asked submissively while rolling his hips to indicate he was asking for permission to fuck you.

How the fuck did he expect you to give him permission in the state you were in? It was a laughable request, but you yourself didn’t laugh. Johnny was the one to give Taeyong permission. The second he had the go-ahead, Taeyong slowly began pushing into you with his big boba eyes staring directly into your eyes, waiting for you to say something or express if he needed to do something different. You didn’t move or speak. So the second Taeyong was even halfway inside, he began rutting into you like a wild animal.

He fucked you with a shallow pace unlike the others who were trying to fit as deeply inside as they physically could. Taeyong liked to watch the cum slip out of you every time he pulled back… only for him to thrust it inside of you again. The cutest, most pathetic whine you had heard all night fell from Taeyong’s lips, and that was his way of waving the white flag, indicating that there was hardly any strength keeping him up anymore as he fucked you while listening to Yuta and Johnny tease him with the idea of knocking you up. All those moans he tried to hold back were suddenly spilling without any end in sight. Whimpers… Moans… Quiet pants and smooth comments about how tight and wet you were.

“N-N-Noona, I’m c-close…” Despite his warning, Taeyong’s whole body tensed like he was trying to hold himself back because he didn’t have enough time inside of you yet. He wanted more— No, he craved more. Though he was more untamed than the others with his thrusts, Taeyong was still a submissive at heart, and there was no way he was going to give up so easily. “I love… I love you, n-noona— Oh, fuck—” He squeezed your hips for dear life as he tried to forbear his imminent orgasm. “Sir, please,” he begged no one in particular.

Johnny pulled away from Taeyong’s neck after leaving a noticeable hickey that he seemed proud of. For a minute, he didn’t say anything, so no one else uttered a word of permission to Taeyong either because they were all amused by the sight of him trying so, so hard not to fall apart in a moment’s notice… Their Taeyong was too cute. He was so obedient, and he tried so hard to impress all of them. He would never, ever act out like Haechan and Jungwoo did for fun; and that was what made Taeyong so endearing to them. So, eventually, Johnny folded, finally giving Taeyong permission to cum.

“I love you so much!” One last breathy whine followed by Taeyong rolling his hips in a different direction brought him over the edge, his cum shooting deep into you along with everyone else’s. His body toppled over yours, his face hiding in the crevice between your tits. “Fuck,” he mumbled against you. His body shivered. “Fuck.”

“You did good, hyung,” Yuta whispered.

Taeyong whined tiredly.

“Let the last two have their turn, hyung, okay?”

Nodding, Taeyong slowly pushed himself upright, and his eyes met yours once more. Both of you moaned as you instinctively tightened around him once you saw how his eyes were glossed over with the same kind of fucked-out lust that you loved so much whenever you were Domming him and he’d pant, “Noona, please, I’ll be a good boy, just let me cum!” after hours of edging and ruined orgasms. Honestly, if you hadn’t been in your current predicament, when Taeyong asked for permission to cum, you wouldn’t have been as nice as Johnny was. You would’ve snickered and told him, “No. Hold it.” You liked to watch him struggle to keep his composure while balls deep inside of you, and you liked to watch him squirm a bit too… But those eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes of his… They were still the same no matter what, and it made your head spin with love.

“Attagirl,” Johnny commented after Taeyong slid out of you and you settled with a tired moan too. “Just me and Doyoung left, and I promise we’ll make it count.”

Doyoung finally dragged himself away from torturing Jungwoo. You glanced over again for the first time since Yuta had his second chance with you, only to discover a more pathetic sight than you remembered. Jungwoo was on his side, his eyes rolling to the back of his head while he continued to weakly beg Jaehyun for mercy because his cum was dribbling endlessly out of his soft cock— He’d made a mess of himself and the floor with his cum and drool. But Jaehyun didn’t turn down the toy wrapped around Jungwoo’s cock. He sat in the chair opposite Yuta’s bed so that he had the perfect angle to watch you be filled over and over again, while Jungwoo fell apart at his feet.

Johnny ushered Doyoung to stand just in front of you, settling between your legs like all the others had. For a moment, Doyoung stared at your body, his eyes wandering around every detail of you from the sweat beading on your skin to the cum leaking out of you before Johnny quickly reached out to scoop it up onto his fingers which he brought to Doyoung’s lips. Without a word, the two shared the same thought. Doyoung moaned as he wrapped his lips around Johnny’s long fingers. The two of them held eye contact to help the erection that was still going strong in Johnny’s pants. With a smirk, Johnny removed his fingers from Doyoung’s mouth, then he quickly replaced them with his tongue, pulling Doyoung in for a passionate kiss that lasted long enough for Johnny to taste all the cum and your wetness, and in the meantime the rest of the boys cleaned themselves up so that they could enjoy the finale from their seats either on the floor or next to you on the bed. It was only after Hyuck settled on your right and Taeyong settled on your left that Johnny put his hand on Doyoung’s chest and pushed in order to separate them— Otherwise they would’ve kept going until they ended up fucking each other instead of the birthday girl dripping with need in front of them.

“Have your turn with her while I take her mouth,” Johnny said to Doyoung.

When they separated, Doyoung situated himself between your thighs, meanwhile Johnny took the gag out of your mouth as he crawled on his knees next to Taeyong— And instead of immediately fucking your throat without remorse, Johnny took a moment to massage your jaw and inspect your face to make sure that you were alright.

“Color?”

Exhausted, you whispered, “Green.”

He pet your hair lovingly. “You’re being such a good toy for us, darling.” With that, he held your jaw so that your mouth remained open wide enough for him to start slowly face fucking you. “Use your tongue, baby, come on, don’t fall asleep on us now.”

You did your best to focus on swirling your tongue around Johnny's tip that he was sliding in and out of your wet mouth, but you were immediately distracted by Doyoung who had no decorum in the way he grabbed your hips then aggressively thrusted inside of you without any kind of warning. Though Yuta’s restraints had proved to hold strong, Haechan and Taeyong grabbed your legs to keep them open as Doyoung drilled into you far faster than anyone else had— And that remained a disruptor to your actions for Johnny’s pleasure throughout the whole ordeal. You couldn’t use your hands to jerk him off or cup his balls. You couldn’t really bob your head the way you were positioned. All you could do was lay still until Johnny was fed up and decided to tangle his fingers in your hair so that he had a steady grip on your head before he began matching Doyoung’s thrusts face-fucking you.

Haechan, being the menace he always was, decided that was the perfect moment to push down the cups of your bra so that your tits were out for him to suck on. The second Taeyong saw that, he needed some too. The two of them worked in tandem with Doyoung and Johnny to suck, nip, and pull on your extremely sensitive nipples which had been neglected the entire night thanks to their selfish endeavors to make themselves cum and not the other way around.

Honestly, by the time it came to Doyoung’s turn, you had already been ruthlessly railed by Jaehyun, Yuta, Mark, Taeyong, and Haechan, and Jungwoo had filled you up some more for good measure. You had no fight left in you. All you could do was lay there, your mouth open, your legs shaking, while Doyoung chased his orgasm and Johnny took his time roughly face-fucking you. Mark took some pity on you. To show just an ounce of kindness amongst all the cruelty, he approached so that he was close enough to hold your hair out of your face so that it didn’t get in Johnny’s way. What wasn’t so kind was what Yuta chose to do. Instead of comforting you, Yuta used two of his fingers to rub your overstimulated clit. Both you and Doyoung moaned when your walls contracted in reaction to the pleasure— Johnny grunted when he felt the vibrations of your moans around his dick.

“Hurry up, Doyoungie,” Johnny egged on impatiently. “I need to cum in her pussy.”

“I know… I know…”

Doyoung threw his head back to let a moan out into the room which overlapped with Jungwoo’s moans in the corner. Johnny laughed at the sight. The two of them were really good at playing off of each other, and though Johnny had put Doyoung on a timer “indirectly,” they were both having fun spit roasting you. They had shared you plenty of times, it wasn’t anything new to you, but this felt more special since it was your birthday and everyone else had already taken their turn with you. Italy… That was a good one. You were reminded of it suddenly when Johnny and Doyoung began kissing over your body, and it seemed Doyoung was too, because the second Johnny tugged on Doyoung’s hair, he muttered, “Hyung,” into their kiss then started cumming inside of you.

“H-hyung—” Doyoung faltered, his body giving out slightly as his senses were overwhelmed, but Johnny held onto him the entire time. So with support, Doyoung continued thrusting lightly to make sure he really got everything out. “Love you,” he mumbled again.

Johnny smirked against Doyoung’s lips. “Let me have a turn with her.”

“I could have another go like Yuta.”

“Maybe later.”

Pouting, Doyoung pulled out of you and moved away to make room for Johnny who was already out of your mouth and moving to take Doyoung’s place at the foot of the bed.

“Look at what they’ve done to you, sweet girl…” His breath shuddered when more cum leaked out of you. “Fuck…” He bit his lip. “Are you full, baby?”

You nodded.

“Fucked-out?”

You nodded some more.

“Poor thing…” He slowly lined his erection up with your entrance, maneuvering his hips so that he didn’t have to release his grip from your thighs. “You’re gonna have to take some more, baby, I’m sorry… You just look so fucking good in this skirt…” He began pushing in. “And filled with our cum…” He went a little faster, forcing his entire length into you with a lewd squelching noise followed by a scream from you. Johnny threw his head back. “Oh, fuck, they really filled you up.” He settled all the way inside. With a sigh, he said, “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be quick.”

Like Jaehyun, Johnny was a marathon runner of a sex god with a hint of Yuta’s enjoyment for seeing you squirm and complain about all the things he liked to do to you, like stretching your ass around his thick cock. But that wasn’t the goal this time around. Though Johnny certainly had half a mind about fucking your ass instead, he wanted his chance at filling you up like everyone else had, and he certainly made an impressive grand finale with the way he had his hand wrapped around your neck to apply just enough pressure to keep himself steady and make sure you stayed still as he railed the rest of your energy out of your body. He liked seeing you like that. He liked how helpless and tired you looked— How all you could do was moan his name and sniffle as he hit deep, sore spots inside of you that were covered in cum. It was dirty. It wasn’t the most insane thing you'd all done together, but it certainly said something about the kind of family you were if they could all share you like that and still find time to have fun with each other in the middle of it all. Maybe Jaehyun and Haechan really were onto something. Maybe it wasn’t just a silly game where they were joking about getting you pregnant— Maybe they’d actually make it a reality, and that alone seemed to egg on Johnny more, because even though he wasn’t the most competitive guy around, he wanted to win this.

“Is this a good birthday gift?” he asked you teasingly.

You glared at him slightly— Just enough to get your point across but not to draw Yuta’s attention since he would’ve gotten a tad mean if he found out you were acting out when they’d been “so nice,” as Hyuck put it earlier. Johnny, however, still did not find your hint of brattiness amusing. He tightened his grip around your neck to put enough pressure that warned you not to do it again, so you easily backed down since you were in no position to go even further down that route. Maybe some other time… To get back at him for all of this.

“That’s my girl.”

He grinned wickedly when he saw your submissiveness come out; but even then, he didn’t loosen his hand around your neck. Both of you liked the feeling of it too much to surrender, so he even tightened it a smidge more as he leaned his tall height over your body to make you feel trapped underneath his strength.

“Here,” Yuta said.

Johnny reached out one hand to take what Yuta was offering— Something which you couldn’t see. Not until Johnny reached down between your bodies and turned on the same toy which Haechan had used on you earlier, immediately torturing your swollen clit. When your mouth fell agape with a desperate moan echoing throughout the bedroom, Johnny took the opportunity to kiss you, his tongue immediately claiming dominance, both of your breaths running short with his hips swerving and your exhaustion catching up to you again now that his body was on yours… He was so warm. He felt inviting and safe. Johnny was always like that, no matter how rough or short-tempered he could get, he could put you at ease no matter what.

“You’re gonna cum with me, baby girl, okay?”

You nodded against his lips. Together, you moaned in unison, both of you leaning in to kiss the other harder. All the feeling in your core was numb— The soreness was fading, and all you could distinguish was the stretch at your entrance every time he went balls-deep in you, as well as the never ending buzzing against your clit. The marathon runner in Johnny held back his orgasm. Those abs of his were working overtime to hold his body together because you were squeezing tightly around him— So tightly that he couldn’t stop moaning with every deep thrust. He was waiting for you, waiting for that moment you would start fighting your restraints again while moaning into his mouth a mixture of pleas and variations of his name. “Johnny… John… Oppa… Daddy…” The last one was sure to get him, and you knew that. So the second you felt your high approaching again, you bit Johnny’s lower lip and whispered, “Daddy, please,” loud enough for only him to hear.

“Milk my cock like you did theirs, baby.”

“S-Sensitive,” you mumbled.

“I know… You can do it, though. Let me take care of you. One more orgasm for us, okay? For your birthday.”

The vibrator rolled over your clit in a different direction then back the other way, and when it hit that sensitive peak, you came suddenly, your legs shaking, your hands desperately trying to reach for something to hold onto as you tried to bear how overstimulating the orgasm was. And as promised, Johnny finally let his orgasm go at the same time he felt your velvety walls pulsing around his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed gently, brushing your hair out of your face while his hips were still against yours, his cock throbbing inside of you. After another minute of enjoying watching you struggle to get the vibrator away from your clit, Johnny took pity, finally pulling it away. “Sorry…” He chuckled and sat upright. “Color?”

“G-gree… G…”

With a light smile, Johnny brushed your hair again then pulled out. “We’re done.”

Finally, everyone agreed to release you.

Yuta jumped in to undo the ropes in order to give you some kind of relief. Doyoung sprinted to the kitchen downstairs and returned with a cold bottle of water by the time Yuta moved to undo your right leg while Haechan was slowly stretching your freed left leg to help with any soreness in your knee. Johnny was at your head again to comfort you, asking you questions about how you felt and if you were alright. Honestly, you were too fucked out to talk. The boys thought it was funny, all of them were chuckling while still making sure that your limbs were fine and that you were drinking plenty of water.

“Woo…” you croaked.

They moved slightly to show that Mark and Jaehyun were looking after him. The cock ring had finally been removed along with the handcuffs, and Jaehyun was wiping Jungwoo’s tears and cum while Mark made sure Jungwoo was also drinking water. Jungwoo looked like he had fun too. Despite how ruined he was, the smile on his face indicated that you didn’t need to be worried.

“Let’s move her to my room,” Johnny said.

Taeyong, wearing nothing but his boxers, nudged the boys out of his way so that he could carry you bridal-style in his arms out of Yuta’s stuffy, cum covered room and into Johnny’s nice, clean bedroom. He gently placed you on the bed. “You okay?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You nodded vaguely. “Rest. We’ll look after you.” You nodded again and he chuckled.

When you woke up, you were still in Johnny’s room, but the bed was made up around you, there was no one next to you, and you were changed into pajamas— Well, a pair of Jungwoo’s pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt from Johnny’s closet. As you tried to roll over to look at the time, you found that your entire body was achingly sore, preventing you from moving an inch.

The door creaked open. You lifted your head a bit… as far as you could, at least… and you found Mark peeking his head in to see if you were okay. When he saw that you were awake, he smiled and walked inside, and you tried to push yourself up but you fell with a thump back onto the mattress, which made Mark giggle as he sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

“Hi, sleepy head,” he cooed lovingly. You yawned. “Are you still tired?” You nodded again and moved to put your head on his thigh. “What do you want for lunch?”

“I’ve been asleep that long?” you questioned with utter shock.

Mark laughed. “Yeah. It’s okay, though, Jaehyun called your boss—”

“The one that’s in love with him?”

“Yeah. Offered her a signed album and a picture with her if she gave you the day off.”

You giggled. Food sounded good now that he mentioned it. It’d been so long since you had food, and after the night they had you endure, you desperately needed something that would provide energy. “Can I get a sandwich? I don’t care what it is, honestly.”

Mark nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I’ll have Doyoung make something for you. Anything else?”

“Water.”

“Done.”

“Ibuprofen.”

“After you eat something.”

“A kiss.”

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips while his palm was splayed across your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

taglist: @henderysposts , @trash-number-one , @mystverse , @pandagirl753 , @zierose-freak , @i2608s , @junrenjun , @sunshinesmuse , @stolasisyourparent , @ninupi , @notbasickpopie , @morkleesgirl , @mrsbyun-baek

[rowarn]

hybrid au part 3 - FINAL

other parts: one | two

cw: major character death, angst, happy ending tho, lack of communication, loving!kyle agenda, mentions of price finally

a/n: SO THAT'S IT. i hope it was worth the wait!!!! mwah!!!

Kyle noticed the way your light dimmed the following days. He was at a loss, one day you're bouncing off the walls and filling every room with the sweet sound of your purrs and the next it's cold and quiet. 

He tried everything, bringing home fragrant, expensive food and snacks, toys, whatever he could find that he thought would make you smile again. But nothing seemed to work. 

When you spend the entire day curled up on the couch, blankly watching TV, he decided he had enough. 

The following day, he was hooking your collar around your neck and forcing you to go outside into the sunshine. 

Your eyes burned as you stepped out beneath the sun's blazing beams. Days spent indoors, sleeping most of the daytime hours away, had accustomed you to darkness. It was hot and you already wanted to go back inside but one pitiful look towards Kyle told you that you were not getting out of this easily.

So you hang your head and allow him to lead you down the sidewalk. The military housing area was surprisingly quiet, the only sound was a lawnmower somewhere nearby. 

Kyle was silent, content with keeping his hand on the small of your back, a kind, protective gesture to assure you that he was still there as you glared at the sidewalk. 

Before you knew it, the quietness of the neighborhood grew louder and louder until you were walking through the gate of the hybrid-park. 

You looked around, watching all the happy hybrids and owners running around and playing lighthearted rounds of soccer or football. Casting a glance to Kyle, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks, glancing around, “We can take a lap around the park if you'd like?” 

You shake your head, “Can we just sit?” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” he coos, nudging you in the direction of an empty bench. 

You both take a seat, and look out across the park. While the nights still got quite chilly, it was beautiful during the day - a soothing breeze that rustled the green leaves in the trees and clear blue skies that you could look at for hours. 

You hated to admit it but - Kyle was right. You were starting to feel better, like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Being cooped up in the house didn’t help anything, in fact it probably made things worse.

A hand patted your head and you looked over to see Kyle beaming, as if he could see the tension just melt off of you. 

“I'm going to get us something to drink,” he muttered as he stood up, “Lemonade okay with you?” 

You nod your head, fluffy ears bouncing atop your head as you do. Kyle has to resist the urge to reach out and pet them, forcing himself to turn around and find a drink stand to get the lemonade from.

You're staring off at a dog hybrid and a young boy playing a heated game of soccer when you hear your name being called. 

Your head whips around to see Johnny standing there, tail wagging and eyes wide in shock. It's obvious he ran all the way over to where you are from the way his shoulders heave up and down with his heavy panting. 

“I-” he clears his throat, thinking over what he wanted to say, “I've missed ye.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, making the blood rush in your ears, “Johnny…”

“Come home,” he says, desperate and breathless, “I miss ye and I want ye to come back.” 

“Simon doesn't want me, Johnny…” you mutter, feeling shame burn at your cheeks as you look down at your hands - nails neatly filed down by Kyle just a few days ago. 

“To hell with him!” he spits, “I want you back, isn't that enough?” 

Your frown deepens. His selfishness ignites irritation within you, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice breaking as the word slips past your lips, “Why should I have to live like that? Being hated while you get to be loved?” Johnny says your name but you cut him off before he can say anything else, “That's not fair, Johnny. I have Kyle now and he loves me! I'm happy with him.”

“Can't ye be happy with me too?” he asks, sad, teary eyes cutting right through your heart. 

“Of course I could Johnny but…” before you can continue there's a sharp call of the pup’s name and both of you freeze. 

Johnny looks over his shoulder to see Simon jogging up behind him, a fierce glare in his brown eyes. A rough, gloved hand grabs the back of the hybrid’s collar. 

“What the hell do you think you're doin’ runnin’ off like that?” Simon snaps, anger masking the clear worry he had experienced at his missing companion. 

“I was just…” Johnny’s eyes drift to you and that's when Simon acknowledges your existence. 

The sneer on his face is clear even through the mask and it makes you shrink in on yourself, ears flattened back. Even after all this time, the sting of his rejection remains strong and hurts just the same. 

“What’s a gutter rat like you doin’ here?” Simon snaps. 

It annoys him that you're always at the source of his problems with Johnny. Whenever the pup misbehaves, you're always there. A bad influence. Typical cat. 

You look at Johnny. He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring up at his owner with an apologetic expression. You want him to speak up. You want him to defend you, to tell Simon to be nice or to apologize or tell him what you mean to him. 

But Johnny just sighs, “Sorry, Si.” 

The lack of defense towards you in the face of Simon solidifies everything for you in that moment. You look down at your lap, the crack in your heart only aching and stinging more and more with every beat of silence that passes between the three of you. 

Something ice cold touches the back of your neck and you yelp, launching yourself off the bench and onto the ground. Laughter fills your ears and you turn to glare at Kyle who holds a large plastic cup of lemonade - the cold thing he’d just surprised you with. 

“Sorry, love!” he apologizes but the laughter shows he's anything but. 

Soap speaks up then, asking if Kyle knows you. Your owner’s brown eyes shine with pride as he affectionately ruffles your hair.

“Found them on the street and brought them home!” Kyle tells them, sounding much like a proud father, “Best decision of my life!”

Your cheeks burn at his praise, his kind, loving words remedy the painful stinging in your heart that had been brought on by your previous owner. You take the cup of lemonade when he offers it to you, taking a sip and cringing at the sour taste that hits your tongue – much to Kyle’s amusement.

“You guys are welcome to come over anytime,” Kyle says, smiling as he affectionately pets your ears, “I’m sure this cute kitten would love to have a friend to hang out with.”

“Yeah…maybe,” Simon mumbles, sending you a sidelong glance that was cold and empty – telling you everything you needed to know without saying it. Absolutely not.

You find that you don’t mind that much. The idea of never seeing Simon or his painfully hateful gaze was nice. But when you looked at Johnny, who was staring at you in despair – you find yourself mumbling in response, “Maybe someday.”

The hope in Johnny’s eyes seers into your mind, even long after you’ve parted ways and gone home for the day. 

The days pass in relative ease. The depressive rut you found yourself in melts away and Kyle is thrilled to see that you’ve returned to your bright, bubbly self. You greet him at the door when he walks in, sit and purr beside him while you both eat dinner together, curl up against his side and happily snooze the night away. 

It’s peaceful bliss.

But one evening, Kyle returns home and tosses his heavy duffle bag onto the floor with a thunk. You get up to greet him, stretching your arms high above your head before padding over to him with a sleepy smile on your face. Kyle opens his arms for you, letting you tuck yourself into his chest for a hug. A loud purr emanates from your chest that only seems to make Kyle’s shoulders drop.

“What’s the matter?” you ask when you catch a look at his face when he pulls away; brows furrowed and lips in a tight line.

“Just got some sad news, that’s all, lovie,” he mutters, patting your head before he moves into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

“What news?” you ask, following after him, tail swishing nervously behind you. 

Did his parents pass away? Did a friend get hurt?

Kyle sets out some vegetables on the counter, hunting around for a knife before sighing, “You remember Simon and Johnny? We met them at the park the other day?”

You nod your head, “Of course.”

“There was an accident a couple days ago,” Kyle explains, slowly chopping up the celery on the cutting board, “Johnny got hit. He didn’t make it. Simon’s tore up about it.”

It feels like everything freezes right then and there for you. You no longer hear the chopping of the knife, no longer hear Kyle's voice or the sound of traffic outside on the street. All you can hear is the pounding in your ears and the sound of your own breathing.

Images flash behind your eyes in your grief. You can see Johnny’s boyish smile and his boisterous laugh emanating down the hallway. You can see him so clearly, wrapped around you as you snuggle and snooze together as the rain falls outside. You can hear the animated way he would tell you stories, waving his hands around and his tail thumping loudly on the floor.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a hand cup your cheek. You blink away the tears and Kyle’s face comes into view, worry etched onto it. 

“What is it, lovie? Why are you crying?” he asks, clearly concerned.

“Johnny’s dead?” you ask, voice broken and wobbly as you fight to talk through tears.

“Yeah, love,” Kyle coos, thumbing beneath your eyes to rub away some tears, “Why are you so upset?”

Everything tumbles from your lips then. You tell him about how you lived on the street, how your life changed the day you met a rambunctious pup who wouldn’t take no for an answer until he had himself a friend. You tell Kyle about how, even though Simon was awful to you, Johnny was a light in the dark and how much you adored him and how much he meant to you. You tell him how Simon threw you out like trash and how much it hurt and how much you missed Johnny despite everything. 

Kyle held you through it all, tucking you tenderly against his chest as you cried it all out.

“I had no idea, lovie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead when your breathing becomes erratic. 

“I-I never got to settle things with him,” you wail, “He wanted me to come home and I-I couldn’t give him an answer.”

Kyle sighs, cupping the back of your head, rocking you back and forth until your cries quiet down to hiccuping sniffles, “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn't know how he can make this hurt go away or help you soothe the grief you’re experiencing. All he can do is hold you close and comfort you whenever you need.

This time, when Kyle notices how sad you are as the days pass, he doesn’t force you to leave the house or do anything. He just lets your sadness run its course, doing what he can to ease your burden by making your favorite dishes and letting you watch your favorite movies over and over again until he can practically recite them by heart.

There’s a knock at the door that startles the both of you one evening. Kyle’s on his feet in seconds, hand drifting towards the firearm he keeps nearby before he looks through the peephole on the door and relaxes. 

You peek over the back of the couch as he opens the door. Simon stands there. 

Although he is masked, you can practically see how worn down and utterly devastated he is. 

“What’s up?” Kyle asks, hand twitching to reach out for the older man but thinks better of it. “Do you need something?”

“I wanna talk to that one,” Simon nods in your direction, where you’re still peeking over the couch. 

Kyle turns to look at you over his shoulder, asking your consent. You think it over for a few seconds before you nod your head. Not like Simon would do anything with Kyle here. 

He steps aside to let the larger man enter and closes the door, giving an excuse about getting drinks before disappearing into the kitchen.

Simon’s heavy boots vibrate the floor as he takes a few large steps towards you. You scoot to the other side of the couch when he sits down, the couch bouncing with his added weight.

His hands are folded between his knees where he rests his elbows on them. His tattooed skin ripples and flexes as he nervously fidgets with his hands. 

“Johnny wanted you to come home,” he starts out, staring intently at the floor. You swear you can see tears beading at his lower lash line as he says his companions name, “So I’m here to see if you will.”

“You want me back?” you ask softly, anxiously pulling a pillow into your lap.

Simon nods, “It’s what Johnny wanted. He cared about you, loved you. You’re all I have left of him.”

You’re silent at that. 

Despite everything, your heart aches for Simon. He adored Johnny more than anything – even if he hated you, his love for the pup was palpable. You could see it in his face every time he saw Johnny, eyes scrunching up happily. Johnny was his world and now that world was gone and Simon was left with nothing but bitter emptiness and a void that he was desperate to fill. 

You found yourself opening your mouth, ready to agree – ready to be the one to soothe your ex-owners devastating hurt. But then you found yourself looking into the kitchen, to Kyle’s back. He was hunched over the counter, vigorously mixing something in a bowl and you realized that you didn’t want to leave him. 

Kyle was yours. Kyle was everything you could ever need or want. He wanted and loved you when you thought no one else would. He didn’t give up on you even when you were difficult and cold. He cared about you, thought about you every day. He gave you everything you wished for so desperately during your time living with Simon. 

“I can’t,” you find yourself whispering, tears filling your eyes at how much it hurt to turn Simon away, “I know Johnny would want me to be with you, to make sure you’re okay without him but…I love Kyle and I want to stay with him.”

“So that’s it then?” Simon asks, voice small and weaker than you’ve ever heard it before. You know there’s a crushing weight on his heart right now, knowing he will be going home alone to a painfully empty and cold house. 

“Yeah…” You whisper, unable to look up at him as he rises to his feet. 

Kyle comes out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl in his hands, asking Simon if he was okay as he passes by him to the front door. The larger man just grunts in response and opens the door. The quiet click of it closing is all you hear of his departure before the warm bowl is in your lap. 

It’s a bowl of broth that makes your mouth water. The fact Kyle had made it for your just because warmed your heart.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you, arm tossed over the couch behind you, fingers mindlessly stroking over the fuzzy surface of your ear.

“He wanted me to go home with him,” you respond, taking a sip of the broth.

“You said no?” he asks. You catch the worry in his tone – like he was scared you were going to tell him you were leaving him soon.

But you nod and his body relaxes in relief, “He only wanted me back because I reminded him of Johnny. He didn’t really want me, just the image of Johnny.”

Kyle nods, leaning over to kiss your temple, “That man loved that pup. But I’m glad you’re here to stay.”

You look over at him from over the bowl of broth as you sip it, “Yeah?”

“I would have let you go if that’s what you really wanted but…” He looks a little sheepish as he continues, “It would have hurt to see you go, kitty. I meant it when I said adopting you was the best decision of my life.”

You place the bowl down on the coffee table before launching yourself into his arms. He grunts as your weight slams against him, knocking him back onto the couch as he laughs. His arms wrap around you in a bear hug, squeezing you so hard that your ribs ache but you don’t even think about trying to pull away.

Though you don’t say it, he knows that you’re his to keep and that you love him just as much as he loves you. He couldn’t imagine life without you now. 

BONUS: 

“I think my boss is gettin’ impatient to meet you, you know,” he mumbles in your shoulder.

“Your boss?” you ask, voice almost too quiet to hear over your loud purring.

“Yeah, the old man’s been dyin’ to meet the cute kitten I talk about all the time at work,” he explains.

“You talk about me?” you ask, peeking up shyly.

He grins, “All the time. I think everyone’s sick of my voice at this point. But the Captain's really been begging to come and meet you. I’ve been waiting for a good time to bring it up. He’s a bit of a lover so you’d have to put up with all the pets and hugs he has to offer.”

Your eyes shine in interest, “I want to meet him!”

Kyle chuckles, reaching up to pet one of your twitching ears, “I’ll make the call then and set up dinner.”

You were excited to meet a new person. You hoped he was as kind and gentle as Kyle was. And even though the idea of Simon sitting alone and hurt in his house with nothing but the memories of his best friend, you weren’t going to let that stop you from opening up new chapters in your own life. 

do not repost on other websites, translate, or modify. reblogs welcome!

[wahapele]

Tf141 x reader (all separate)

You wanted a pet but they end up bonding with it more than you.

Never in his life has he thought he’d ever be in a situation like this. He’s fights terroist for a living for godsakes?!

But here he is, staring down the one thing he knows he can’t win against.

You.

Specifically you with big puppy eyes pouting at him.

John: tells you no at first. As much as he love you, a puppy is a big responsibility. But you just keep giving him puppy dog eyes while saying “I’ll take good care of it, I promise” while cuddling the little beagle.

He ends up caving in and getting you the puppy as well as everything you need for it. And just like you said, you take real good care of the pup. Within a month the puppy you’ve named Archie, is now fully potty trained. It isn’t until you try recall training with Archie.

John has to help you out after another failed attempt and Archie halfway across an open field.

Archie now listening to every word John says like its law. The puppy listening to John more than you and even ignores you at times, to snuggle with John on the sofa.

John ends up loving the pup as if it were his own child.

What makes matters worse is that Archie makes the same kind of puppy dog eyes that you did to convince John to get him in the first place.

You thought John spoiled you? Well, this puppy has a different style collar and outfit for each day of the month and gourmet dog food every night.

Kyle: “no, absolutely not” he almost screams.

You’re holding up a small Burmese python while looking up at him as if its just a puppy you have in you hands.

Kyle loves you but it’s a no to bringing the little death noodle home with you two.

Takes about 30 minutes to convince you to pick out something else. Ends up leaving the store with a set of love birds. A boy and a girl.

You name them Sandy and Danny after the characters from Grease. Both birds taking an instant liking to Kyle.

You let them out during dinner and while sitting next to Kyle. Danny grabs Kyles finger and drags it towards your hand while Sandy drags your to his till eventually yall are basically holding hands.

While watching a movie you let the two love birds free roam. Sandy ends up perching herself on your shoulder while Danny makes himself comfortable on Kyles right next to you. All of you now facing towards the tv while watching the movie. Danny ends up pulling at Kyles shirt as if to drag him towards you. While Sandy pulls at yours.

Its not until bot of you are cuddle up on the couch that the two birds fly off to the side to cuddle up together themselves.

Letting out a laugh Kyle realizes he has his own literal wingmen now.

Johnny: Immediately says yes. Doesn’t even know what you want yet but he caved once he saw the look in your eyes.

You’re holding up a guinea pig with a little tuff of hair on its head that looks like a tiny mohawk. Joking that it’s Johnny Jr.

You name it Sudz though after a bit of teasing has Johnny pouting. He thinks its cute though.

Johnny ends up bonding with the little guy. Carrying Sudz everywhere with him. To the bathroom, the kitchen. Even on groceries runs.

The two are almost always together. You can never get alone time with either at this point.

Johnny jokingly saying that Sudz is his other half(soul wise not romantic).

Now here you are pouting cuz both your boyfriend and guinea pig are spending all their time together.

Johnnys ends up bringing home another guinea pig the next day that strangely resembles you.

Simon: Just gives you a deadpan stare. Doesn’t tell you yes but also doesn’t say no.

You’re pointing towards a tank with one of those chubby gold fishes thats black and white. Its face looks like it has a little skull mask that resembles Simons own mask.

You try asking again but with a “pretty pwease Si?” When he doesn’t answer the first time.

Simons already whipping out his card before you could even finish your sentence.

You both return home with a whole big set up for the little guy. Naming the fish Ghostie.

When Simons having a bit of quiet time he spends it by the tank while watching a game of football.

Ghostie grabbing his attention by swimming towards the side closest to Simon while doing little flips in the water.

Simon ends up teaching Ghostie how to do little tricks like in those Tiktoks with the fishes are jumping though hoops.

You come home one night overhearing Simon being like “You got this! Just one more jump and its a new record”.

Simon swinging his head around when he hears you behind him. Looking horrified like he was caught committing murder.

You’re to never speak of this to anyone he tells you with a blush. Little does he know, you managed to get it all on video.

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Valentines

requested?: no pairing(s): Simon 'Ghost' Riley x afab!reader genre: fluff, smut warning(s): unprotected sex (not promoting this, wrap it please), soft sex, reader being a hopeless romantic, ghost not knowing what to do whatsoever on valentines, kinda oc reader (only for favourite animal, if you dont like it you can change it), oral (f recieving), face sitting, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, not proofread (and is so fucking rushed, im sorry) summary: 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦... word count: 1.9k a/n: happy valentines everyone! spending it alone yet again, but its okay because we have a whole ass ghost fic with soft sex and valentines. hope everyone has a lovely day wherever you are, even the single people and the people with partners (i am not the latter). i also promise that i am almost done the alex volkov and happy go lucky reader fic, so it should be out over the weekend, i js wanted to give you a valentines special as i did last year (my first ever fic i think), either way, it is almost done! remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (honestly, i apologise in advance because this was so rushed so ya'll could have a valentines special out on valentines, so i am so sorry ya'll if this is shit) -Cilla

simon never got the point of valentines. it was just people in love celebrating their love and showing it through overly expensive flowers and chocolate, what was the point when people showed they loved each other every day? maybe it was the way he was brought up, or maybe it was the fact he had just never found the right person to celebrate with, or maybe he wasn’t built that way.

well, that’s what he thought, until you. you made your way into his life, all flowery and bubbly, but most of all, ever-loving. you loved almost everything. animals, nature, sweet treats. but most importantly, you loved him.

honestly, you hadn’t been together for long. you had started dating a few days after valentines the year before when johnny had managed to get him a blind date with someone who he thought simon would like. your date was a few months before valentines, but you didn’t decide you had liked each other until a few days after valentines.

simon didn’t not like you, he just thought you were too good for him and a girl like you should date someone who wasn’t like him, someone who hadn’t seen the harsh terrors of the world and someone who wouldn’t wake up from night terrors almost every night. but you didn’t care about all that and fought for him, going on date after date until the two of you eventually became romantic partners.

so, you had both never celebrated valentines together and simon honestly didn’t know what you wanted. he knew your favourite animal was an otter, so he got you an otter teddy to add to your collection, but other than that, he didn’t know. you had insisted you didn’t want anything or much, but he wanted to spoil you the way you deserved.

he had been on deployment for a few months prior to valentines, and he was coming back the day before. that was how he had managed to get you a teddy. he was sure you would love it. as soon as he got home, he hid it somewhere he knew you wouldn’t find it (up a height). and spent the day with you (and inside of you), catching up with what he missed while he was gone.

you both went to bed together later that night after watching a sappy romance movie which simon had complained the whole time (you were sure he truly loved it) before you went off to bed and he was inside of you once again. once you had fallen asleep that night, he had managed to book you both a table at your favourite restaurant before letting you curl against him and went to sleep as well.

he woke up first the following morning, immediately untangling himself from you to go and retrieve the things he had gotten you. it wasn’t much, but it was quite expensive, which he knew you would yell at him for, but he didn’t care. he wanted to spoil his girl.

“happy valentines, lovie” he smiled when you woke up. you sat up immediately, wiping the sleep from your eyes and smiling. he hugged you as you hugged him back.

when you both pulled away, he pulled the otter teddy from behind his back, your eyes went wide and your face broke out into an even wider smile.

“oh my god, si, thank you so much, i love him!” you took him from him softly and held him up to your chest which was still bare from the night before. “i think i’m gonna name him olly”

simon smiled at you. it was something he had always admired about you, how you always managed to stay positive even when the world had turned to shit. simon was stiff as you hugged him again. you could tell it was somewhat awkward for him as he had never celebrated valentines before, so he didn’t really know what to do.

he also pulled out a small ring, and you got him a new watch as well as a chain with the both of your initials on.

you were both in bed afterwards, sharing soft yet very intimate kisses. his hands were all over you while yours were resting on his shoulders.

they were soft and small until the kisses started to get more deep and passionate. you shifted so you were straddling his thighs. you were both still naked from the previous night, so you didn’t have to do much. you whimpered softly into his mouth as you grinded down on him.

you could feel him beginning to harden beneath you as you continued to grind down on him, your slick beginning to coat his thighs. he pushes you away.

“I want you to sit on my face” he says bluntly, his eyes lidded and full of lust. you bite your lip softly.

you were insecure enough to not want to crush him, but then again you had also done it before, so you knew it wouldn’t be that bad. you moved up the bed until you were straddling his face.

he grabbed your thighs and pulled you all the way down. his mouth latched to your clit, sucking and licking as he licked a stripe up your folds, shoving his tongue inside of your hole. you moaned and whimpered softly as he did so, gripping onto his hair as he did so.

he licked and slurped you for all you’re worth, making you moan and whimper. you ground down against his face, wanting as much friction as he could give you. you threw your head back as he did so. simon held your thighs down against his face so you wouldn’t move away, sensing you were getting close.

“oh god, si- m’ gonna come” you moan out, continuing to grind against his face as he kept slurping your cunt up as though it was his last meal, eventually adding a couple fingers and curling them inside of you, making you moan harder and louder. yeah, you were definitely going to come now.

“mhm” he grunts against your pussy, sending vibrations that made you jolt. “come for me then” he mumbles against your cunt, the vibrations were making you go absolutely feral, making you feel more sensitive by the second.

it only took a few more sucks and curls inside of you before your juices were splattered all over his face, simon wasn’t complaining as he just slurped everything up as though his life depended on it. he continued to ride you out what felt like your longest-lasting orgasm ever.

he moved you down his body so you were back sitting on his lap, he wiped your juices from his chin, a shit-eating grin on his face as he did so. you watched too intently as he did so. you clenched around nothing, your ovaries feeling like they were about to explode with how horny you felt at that moment in time.

he smirks and props himself up on his elbows.

“gonna need you to ride me now, lovie” he says, it sounded condescending, and from your previous position over his face, your thighs wouldn’t last long before they gave out. he must be a mind reader at this point, because he then added “oh don’t worry, lovie, i’ll help you”

it was almost subconscious in the way his hands moved to your hips to lift you onto his hardened cock. the tip was red and already leaking pre-cum. he was always massive, no matter how many times the two of you had sex, you would always need a few seconds to adjust to his size. as he slowly lowered you onto him, you had to bite your tongue to stop you making a guttural sound.

it took you a few seconds to adjust to his size, bearing in mind you had last had sex less than 24 hours ago, and began moving your hips slightly. it started off with just rolling your hips on hip, rolling them in soft circles to get yourself going at first, but then you began to bounce softly.

simon’s hands stayed on your hips the whole time, helping you bounce on his cock. simon was never usually a vocal person in bed, but he always loved when you rode him with him helping you, so that’s the only point in which he would become vocal. he was letting out the occasional grunt and groan as he bounced you.

it was beginning to be him doing all the work, you doing nothing and letting him lift and slam your hips back down on hip. his pelvis was getting soaked with your juices as your cunt squelched with his large cock. it was full trying to accommodate his full length.

you were beginning to get tired and simon knew this as you were putting less and less effort into bouncing on his cock. he began to start moving his hips upwards to meet yours when they were going down, making him hit a whole new place inside of you, making you yelp at first.

you then started to moan louder as his length was hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over, making your cunt squelch louder as well as your moans that reciprocated the volume of your pussy.

he had a smirk on his face the entire time, but his smirk got wider when he decided to reach a hand down to play with your puffy and overstimulated clit, making you jolt and whimper. you were getting closer and closer with each passing moment and you knew at some point you were going to come, you could feel it and simon could feel his orgasm coming on.

he continued to meet your downward thrusts with his upwards ones, making you make sounds you didn’t know you could ever make.

the rubbing on your clit and simon’s cock repeatedly hitting that oh-so sweet spot inside of you was too much. the knot was forming in your stomach and it was tightening fast.

“it’s okay lovie, let go, come for me” simon says, it sounds strained and you could tell he was close too by the way he looked down at where the two of you met then threw his head back. “fuck, you’re so gorgeous” he says with his head back before looking at you with his hooded eyes.

that was all it took for you to come completely undone for him. letting your hips come down one more time before throwing your head back and clamping so hard down on him that he could have sworn you resembled a vice, but he didn’t mind because that was what made him come too, spilling his white-hot cum all over your velvety walls.

you came down from your highs not long later, panting and reaching for each other’s embrace.

simon picked you up with him still inside of you and only pulled out when you reached the bathroom. he sat you down on the toilet, leaving for you to for you to do your business then helping you wash your hands before running a bath for the both of you.

“i got us a table at that place you like” he says softly as he helps you get into the bath first before climbing in behind you. you smiled and thanked him, saying he was perfect. you leaned your head back against him, on his chest.

maybe simon didn’t mind the overly expensive flowers and chocolate if it meant he got to see the love of his life happy.

[heavenbarnes]

hiiiii pretty cosmos, just read sm of your older bf!simon (again, shocked are we. ((no)) and the meet cute + first date was adorable 🥺 id love to hear your thoughts on their first night together

i am ALWAYS shocked when people read my stuff, let alone more than once 🥹🫶🏼 p1 | p2

if it had been up to older bf!simon then you probably would’ve had your first night together the first time you met.

and if it’d been up to you it would’ve been the night of your first date.

but the second best time to plant a tree is now.

simon had plied you with a plate of pasta, washed the dishes, and had retired you both to the couch where your feet rest in his lap.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to spend the night.

he only ever wanted to talk about you, how work was for you, how your weekend was, what you liked to do. you figured you’d have an easier time pulling teeth than getting anything out of him.

not because he didn’t want to talk- hell, if you asked him, this was the most he’d spoken his entire life.

but because he was scared?

see simon couldn’t quite understand why you wanted anything to do with him.

when he’d asked you for your number that first day, he was genuinely shocked when you’d said yes.

when you’d asked him out to dinner, he was sure it was all a cruel joke at his expense.

so there was this part of him that was entirely terrified to actually let you see any real part of him, actually let you in, just in case you hated what you saw- simon didn’t think he could handle the humiliation.

(and worse, what does he do if you did want to stick around? he’s never even been remotely close to a situation like this before)

so simon skirts around questions, dodges and parries any attempt at learning anything more about him. he wants to keep you at the surface, treading water where you’re safe.

but, he’s also plied with pasta and he’s warm and your couch is soft and your feet are resting so nice on his thigh he’s been thinking of offering you a foot massage if that isn’t weird and-

he lets slip. the tiniest little slip that tells you he’s not as stoic as he makes out to be.

“who’s gaz?”

simon freezes because he can’t believe he gave you an in, gave you the chance to learn more about him and-

“he’s a mate- well actually he’s a team mate- he’s uh-”

he hates the way your eyes glow as you gaze at him along the couch, hand folded under your chin and a content smile that says you’re learning about this man come hell or high water.

and it’s the beginning of the end really, because he can’t talk about gaz without talking about johnny who you can’t talk about without talking about price which means you have to talk about-

work.

the darkest part of him.

and yes, you know what he does for work- hell it’s how you met him. he should be grateful for work, and he is, it brought him to you.

but you don’t know what he does when he goes to work. you don’t know what he’s done, what he’s seen, the things-

that’s what he wants to keep at arms length. you’re so soft and so sweet and he’d never forgive himself for marring you with the unkind that follows him home like a stray dog.

but you’re not accepting the easy way, you’re asking questions.

“only what you’re comfortable sharing”

oh, ok.

simon keeps himself on a leash, forever tugging at the collar he put around his own neck as early as he could remember.

but he tells the truth.

and you don’t look scared? you look interested? you nod at the right moments and you smile when you can tell he’s trying to joke and you frown when you know he’s trying to be taken seriously.

most importantly? you don’t make it last.

you let him trail off until he’s convincing you that you’d actually like a man united game if you just sat down and watched and his ears are burning hot when you tell him you’d like to watch a game with him.

you let him be simon, you chose simon- you never called him ghost.

simon learns a few things that night:

a good recipe for pasta

you look lovely in lamp light

he really likes making you laugh

he never thought of himself as someone that could be soft. there’s a voice inside that chastises him for “going soft on me, boy” and he tries his hardest not to put a name to the voice.

but you light up when he becomes soft.

you curl into his side of the couch and you like it when he talks nice.

he realises it’s a side of him he likes- but only if you’re the one who sees it. the only one who sees it.

he decides he wants to compartmentalise, whether rightly or wrongly. but he wants to create parts of himself that are reserved for you.

he also realises, very quickly, that the parts he wants reserved for you are the parts of himself he hasn’t let himself acknowledge for a very long time.

that parts that feel like him.

he only realises it’s late when you start yawning and he dreads the idea that you might ask him to leave and then he has to skulk home under streetlights like-

“only if you want to?”

simon begins to realise that the time spent in his head is time spent without you. hard to reconcile with given he spends almost all of his time in his own head.

this was all a very roundabout way to say, you'd invited him to stay the night and he was so stuck in his own head that he'd completely missed it.

dimwit.

a really loud part of him reckons he shouldn't. looks at you, looks at the way you're staring up at him like he's responsible for placing all the stars, looks at you and thinks-

he really cannot afford to fuck this up.

and, to simon, that's what will happen. that's what happens when he opens up and allows himself to enjoy. allows himself to go soft, boy.

that anything he does that isn't out of bare necessity is surplus to requirement and he should live out his days on a threadbare mattress thousands of miles from anything that resembles home.

that it's almost guaranteed he'll fuck this up because anything he touches turns to blood and he's simply not the kind of person that deserves nice things.

he ends up on his back in your bed because you decide he deserves nice things.

the tv merely glows at the end of your bed, it's playing a show simon hasn't even heard of (because it's not top gear) but he's not watching because you're not watching.

and you're not watching because you both can't stop giggling.

(yes, simon giggles even though he'd never forgive you for calling it that but there is no manly explanation for the sound that comes out of his mouth)

your head rests on his chest so you move with every laugh and every intake of breath- you can hear his heart just a little out of reach but closer than it's ever been.

he could stay like this all night, and it feels like he does. in reality, he falls asleep very easily, easier than he has in a long time.

and easier than he feels he should.

if he still had his wits and consciousness about him, he'd be making himself repent for letting his guard down so quickly. but he doesn't.

so he sleeps.

for the first time in that long time he's always thinking about, he really sleeps. he evens thinks he might've dreamt.

simon lets himself fall into the plush of your mattress, lets himself wrap you up him arms, lets his lips press to the crown of your head.

lets himself be.

doesn’t hear that chastising voice of impending doom, reminding him that at any given moment all of this can be taken from him.

because that’s really hard to believe when you’re so close you’re literally in the palm of his hand. he doesn’t have to let go if he doesn’t want to.

so he doesn’t.

simon riley, the good time and the long time.

[daydreamerswriting]

I love your stuff!! i was wondering if you could do some stuff with the gang x curtissister!reader who has selective mutism??:3

Like she occasionally will murmur "i love you"s and whatnot to them like on their birthday or when they're upset but other than that stays quiet? like maybe she gets bullied for it too?

if you could i would love for her to be 13 just a year younger than ponyboy but if not it's fine i don't really care!😋🫶

an: This is so cute! Sorry this took me so long to get to. I'm doing this as headcanons and a mini fic!

w: a little insensitivity? Mentions of mockery, not proof read

Dallas, Two-Bit, and Steve are all "Don't say anything if..."

Ponyboy is always sticking up for you and talking for you

Sodapop really appreciates your quietness. He loves to sit with you in silence or sit with you and vent after Ponyboy and Darry fight

If you use sign language, your brothers learn it to communicate with you- and eventually the rest of the guys start to pick up some signs or ask you to teach them some signs

Johnny really connects with you and, like Soda, enjoys your quiet, calming vibe

Darry hates to see anyone mocking you for not talking or for signing, parents will be called, teachers will be informed, and Darry will consider the morality of punching a 13 year old child

All the guys are worried about you, because not only are you in danger of being jumped for being a greaser, but they know you won't yell for help and won't stand up for yourself

They're worried for when you start highschool

Darry gets really mad if you walk somewhere alone

Pony walks with you most places

Dallas and Steve are the least understanding, but they accept it and will stand up for you if someone mocks you.

Darry, Soda, and Pony love to hear you laugh

Every "I love you" is way more meaningful and cherished by them

Darry wants to get you a consular or therapy to help, but you guys can't afford it

Dallas doesn't talk to you much because he knows you won't respond, but he still like being around you. He'll often communicate with gestures or facial expressions.

Sometimes Steve pretends you're communicating telepathically

"Everyone be quiet, y/n and I are talking in our brains." He'll say as he rubs his the sides of his temple

They've all gotten very good at reading your expressions

"Y/n, don't say anything if I can eat all the cake batter." Two-bit says while slowly reaching for the bowl. You glare at him then smack his hands away. He chuckles and steps back. You sigh then pick up the bowl and carefully pour the batter into a pan.

Ponyboy doesn't look up from his book when he says, "Leave her alone, Two-bit."

Two-bit ruffles Pony's hair before sitting down at the table. "Relax, kid, I'm just messing around. It's cool. Right, Y/n?"

You turn your head to look at him and roll your eyes. He chuckles. You close the oven and set a timer for 40 minutes. Soda and Steve walk into the kitchen in their DX uniforms. Soda smiles and waves and you smile back.

"I can't believe you worked on your birthday, Soda." Two-bit chuckles.

Soda shrugs, "I like my job. Plus, I got to spend the whole day with my best friend." He pats Steve on the shoulder. "Cake almost done, Y/n?"

"39 minutes." You sign as you sit down at the table.

-

When the cake is finally cooled down, you frost it. You carefully, and as evenly as possible, spread the frosting over the cake. Once done, you stick in all 17 candles. Ponyboy, who had been impatiently watching you asks, "Is it done?"

You nod.

"Guys the cake is done!" Pony yells excitedly as he hurries into the living room to let everyone know. All of the guys were at the house, and everyone hurriedly made their way to the dining room. You carefully set the chocolate cake down infront of Soda. Darry lights the candles as you sit down. It takes a decent amount of time to light 17 candles, but once they're all lit, the guys begin to sing.

"Happy birthday to you." You hum the song as everyone sings to Soda. Once the song is over, Soda blows out his candle.

"What'd you wish for?" Two-Bit asks.

"He cant tell you, then it won't come true." Steve rebukes.

Soda smiles mischievously. "I wished you wouldn't talk so damn much, Two!"

Two-bit falls into hysterics, and Darry warns, "Language."

You cut the cake. Soda, of course is handed the first piece.

"Thank you, y/n."

Two-bit and Steve fight over the second piece, but they calm down once a third is cut. Then Pony and Johnny get one.

You point at Dallas then at the cake, to ask if he wants a slice. He nods, so you give him one. Darry declines at first, but the protests from his brothers convince him to have a slice too. You finally cut a piece for yourself.

-

Later that night, after all the guys had gone home, and you'd gotten ready for bed, you join Soda in the living room. He's looking at a chain that Steve got him, and the flannels you and Ponyboy got him are folded beside him. He looks up at you as you walk in. You wave, and he smiles. You sit next to him on the couch. You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound being the chain moving around in his hands.

"Happy birthday, Soda." You mutter quietly, looking at his hands. You look at his eyes for the next part. "I love you."

Soda beams. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a side hug. "Thank you. I love you too, and don't you forget it."

An: I hope you liked it!! It's almost summer! Yay!

[im-normal-about-everything]

"Steve?" Pony's familiar voice called out as the bell above the door of the DX rang.

"Soda's in the back." Steve grumbled as he wiped a rag over the counter. It'd been a pretty slow day, it usually was on Sunday's. Most families were at church or spending time together or something like that. He didn't necessarily mind not having to deal with a lot of customers, but he was getting bored with nothing to do.

That didn't exactly mean he wanted to have to entertain Ponyboy, though.

"I ain't looking for him." Pony said in a small voice. The kid had been pretty quiet since everything with Johnny and Dally, hell all of the gang had. But he'd been getting better and it was nearing a year since their deaths. Did something happen to make him quiet again?

"What's up?" Steve had stopped wiping down the counter, now looking at Pony. The kid's natural hair was peaking out near his roots as his hair grew out. He looked a little nervous and in his head. That wasn't very uncommon though, the kid was always in the clouds

"You have fights with Evie sometimes, right?" Pony rushed the words out and waited like Steve was gonna whack him for the question. (Last year he might've, but Pony's been through enough.)

"Sometimes, yeah. Why do ya wanna know 'bout me and my girl's fights?" He couldn't think of a single reason why Pony was asking him this.

"I mean I would ask Soda, but I don't wanna break up Sandy." Both of them winced at the girl's name. Steve hated how beat up Soda was after Sandy left. Now don't get him wrong Steve wouldn't hit a girl, but the heartbroken look on Soda's face when he got Sandy's letter made him want to beat the tar outta her.

"You got some broad you're fightin' with?" Steve snorted and shook his head in disbelief until he noticed that Pony's face and ears had turned red. "Shit, do you?"

"No, not really." Pony's ears turned even redder, and Steve didn't know if it was because he was lying or 'cause he was embarrassed. Maybe both.

"Whaddya mean?" Steve watched Pony, watched how he took a breath and held it. It was clear he was debating sharing something and Steve wished he would just spit it out

"I ain't got a broad." Pony said finally and Steve was as confused as he had been at the very start of this conversation.

"But you need some kinda relationship advice?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Yeah. It's just, we got in a fight and I dunno what to do or even why he's so mad at me-" Pony cut himself off but it was too late.

"He?" Steve asked quietly, looking directly at Ponyboy. He was glad there was no one in the DX, because if someone overheard this conversation, it could be real bad.

Pony didn't say anything, just nodded slightly with his eyes wide. He was staring at Steve, looking ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

"Alright. What was the fight about?" Steve spoke slowly, changing the subject. As much as he wanted to freak out, he couldn't scare the kid into thinking he was freaking out at him.

'I-what? You don't- you don't care?" Pony was still staring at him, his green eyes boring into his soul in a honestly unsettling way.

"No, but some people do, so keep your voice down. What was the fight about?" Steve was trying to act normal, but was pretty sure he was failing. It wasn't the biggest shock that Pony was a queer. The kid had never really been interested in girls and had always liked softer things, like reading and drawing. What was shocking was the fact that apparently was seeing someone. Steve wasn't sure if he should ask, if he could ask.

"He said that I was bein' a coward for not tellin' anyone 'bout us. I don't think he meant it in a real mean way, but I just dunno what to do. I mean, I wanna tell Darry and Soda, but I dunno how. His siblings know and they don't care and I know that my brothers wouldn't mind much, but I just don't want them to be pissy about it, you know?" Pony's voice was quiet but firm as he word vomited.

Steve, did in fact, not know. But he could guess that Pony meant he didn't want them to be super overprotective of him. Glory knows how many times Darry of Soda (or even himself) have had talks with Pony about staying away from girls. And now Pony was dating a boy? Steve could see where Pony was coming from.

Which was kind of odd. Usually it seemed like him and Pony saw everything from completely different perspectives, but sometimes their views aligned. It was weird.

"Do you wanna tell 'em?" Steve asked.

"I mean, yeah. I'm just worried that they're gonna freak out about it." Pony grumbled and messed with the necklace that was hanging around his neck. Steve distantly thought that he recognized the necklace, probably one of Soda or Darry's old ones.

"Why don't you tell your brothers together? Give the guy a chance to explain himself and prove to your brothers that he's not gonna fuck you over." Steve wasn't sure where this advice was coming from, but hopefully it was good. Pony smiled a little, so maybe he was doing alright.

"I guess. I think they're gonna be more concerned about who he is rather than the fact that he's a he." Pony muttered, mostly to himself, but Steve still heard.

"Who is it?" Steve couldn't help but ask. Pony looked around for a second before opening his mouth to answer.

"Curly." Pony said and suddenly, Steve remembered where he knew the necklace from. It was Shepard's. The kid was always wearing it around, especially during rumbles.

"Curly Shepard?" Steve repeated, making sure he heard right.

"Y'know another guy named Curly?" Pony snorted.

"Nah, guess not," Steve grinned, "You're right, though. I don't think your brothers are gonna be too happy about you datin' Shepard."

"Oh well." Pony shrugged with a grin. Steve reached over and ruffled his hair. Pony swatted at him but kept grinning until the door to the garage opened

"Hey, Pone." Soda greeted as he walked in and saw his brother. His eyes flickered from Steve to Pony, both of whom were grinning. Steve just shrugged at Soda's questioning glance and went back to wiping the counter.

"Hey, Soda. I was just headin' out. Gotta meet up with someone." And he rushed out the door before Soda could question him any further.

"What was that about?" Soda tiled his head as he looked at Steve.

"Dunno." Steve shrugged but he was still grinning. He ignored how nice it was to have a normal conversation with Ponyboy, no arguing or bitter remarks. The kid could be fun, sometimes. (And if he threatened Curly Shepard later and made sure he was treating Pony well, then that was no one's business but his own.)

[crimsonkingart]

Head Canon

I have some HCs about SentryAgent, John and Bob, so let's talk about them

Sensitive content, like murder, suicide, drugs and sex

John

He's actually a patient person, but his teammates are all hotheads, so he loses his temper easily

He can cook, but since he can cook, he realizes that US cuisine is an offense to everything that is edible and healthy

He's had PTSD since before Lemar's death, he's a soldier who's been in every major trench in the world, so he's definitely seen a lot of shit

He hates himself for killing someone using Cap's shield, but not for the murder itself, this is because years of being in the army have desensitized him to death as a side effect of his moral choices, so he thinks that the dead guy (in TFAWS) had made his choices and the guy was aware of the risk of dying

I also like the idea that he might feel bad about the murder, so much so that he thinks that he himself doesn't deserve to continue live and has already tried to commit suicide, but failed because of fear

John is a great sniper and has excellent manual skills, such as wood carving, and he also good at handling knives

John loves eating cakes

John is bisexual, but hasn't dated anyone other than his wife since they officially got engaged

John loves metal and rock music, and maybe folk, his all-time favorite band Metallica, because is a nostalgic

John loves long foreplay and kissing (and blowjob)

John could be into bondage

John is a bottom, but he likes to switch to top if he feels good with his partner

Bob

He can cook quite well, but he hasn't done it often because he lived like a tramp

After the events of the film he suffers from eating disorders, maybe binge eating, caused by years of nutritional deficiencies and for having survived by eating little and badly

John helps him manage stress by training together (and fucking)

Bob loves Yelena and Ava and spends long movie nights with them watching Disney classics, at home when he was little he couldn't watch cartoons because his father thought they were stupid

Bob loves reading, especially fantasy or romance books, one of is fav book is Piranesi

Bob is a big romantic, he's the type who would shower you with little gifts to celebrate anniversaries, like chocolates, gloves, scarves, ready dinner, etc… just to see you smile

Bob loves plants, especially poisonous ones, he studied them hoping one day to use them to kill himself, and once he hypothesized killing himself using the Foxglove

Bob thinks that John is like a succulent, hard on the outside, soft on the inside

Bob loves Alexei's hugs because it feels like hugging a big bear

Bob is pansexual or bisexual, and he discovered it during his adolescence

SentryAgent

Bob willingly listens to John while he talks about his missions in the army because he has a competence kink

Bob clearly has the Daddy Kink and John radiates very powerful Daddy vibes when he talks about his son or watches him doing activities with his son

Bob and John sometimes listen to music in silence to pass the time

They love to hug or hold each other for hand

Bob loves pet names and calls John his Johnny Bravo

John calls Bob his Bobby Baby or Bobby Bear

Bob is top, but he hasn't had sex in a long time so he need to take confidence by having sex with John and he likes to mistreat his boyfriend a bit

They both enjoy bondage and dirty talk

They might both like roleplay

They spend time together reading

They love to cook together

When they have a date John meticulously prepares everything beforehand

Bob loves to see John in a US Agent costume and the costume has been part of some wet dreams and roleplay

John would defend Bob even from Hulk if it were necessary, but is Bob who will defend John from Hulk

Void is afraid of John, but at the same time he is attracted to him and would try to corrupt him

Sentry is attracted to John, but he rejects him, bacause Sentry thinks John is inferior to him

Okay, these are some of my HCs, they are the ones that came to mind right now

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi there! Absolutely love your work, you write 141 so well. I was wondering about putting in a request. Something along the lines of doing self care with the guys- massages, face masks, bubble bath, manicure, pedicure, etc., anything to destress after work. However you want to write it, either the reader is pampering them (I’d want to spoil those 4 so bad), they are pampering reader, or they are just indulging in self care together, I leave it all in your capable, creative hands. After the week I’ve had at work I could go for some self care (reading your fics has been helping me 😊). Take care!

Oh my gosh. This is so cute. I love this. Yes, anon. Absolutely.

Written w/ gn!reader

MDNI for brief suggestive themes

When Price comes home after a long day, the two of you like to spend time in the bath together. The moment the text from John comes in on your phone to tell you he’s heading home, you’re turning on the faucet and running the hot water. Once full, you drop in an aromatic bath bomb and placing towels in the warmer. John loves reclining with you in his arm while the two of you soak. He likes to decompress like this, talking about his day and yours, enjoying the feel of you in his arms. It isn’t until the water turns lukewarm that the two of you get out. With warm towels, the two of you dry each other off, and then massage his sore muscles with lotion. Afterwards it’s cuddles in bed.

Soap always watches you indulge in self-care days but never thinks to participate until you offer to pamper him after work one day. He shrugs, not thinking much of it. You start by having him shower and then putting on a fluffy bathrobe afterward. Next is a facemask while you massage his muscles with a hydrating lotion. Johnny is perfectly content, literal puddy in your hands as you work out those knots. He moans when you manage to undo one in his shoulder. The facemask comes off, and while you want to keep pampering your man, Johnny has other plans. He wants to snuggle, and get those kisses in for a bit.

A self-care day with Gaz happens every Sunday as long as he’s home. It’s not an afternoon snooze or a few hours in the evening. It’s a full day affair. It’s morning coffee and tea in bed before cooking breakfast together and then followed by a shared shower for a bit of intimacy. After that it’s taking turns massaging each other, working lotion or oil into each other’s skin. Kyle likes to spend a bit of time grooming himself, and he insists on doing your grooming too (and that includes shaving.) Reading books or lounging around in your bathrobes in the afternoon might happen, or it might be prepping lots of snacks to settle in for a movie marathon. Either way, it always ends with the two of you disconnecting from the world and enjoying each other’s company.

Self-care and Ghost don’t exist. When Simon is trying to decompress after work, he takes a nap and then immediately orders takeaway upon waking. It’s you introducing him to self-care that changes his perspective. Even though he sighs when you drag him by the arm to the bathroom, Simon goes with you after you promise him lots of kisses and touching. It’s a shower first, the two of you scrubbing each other down, and shampooing each other’s hair. Simon steals kisses between rinses. After emerging, its oversized towels, and Simon stealing even more kisses as you try to towel off. You try to convince him to do a facemask or to trim his toenails, and while he might take some clippers, Simon is collapsing into bed, happy to watch you take care of yourself, dropping little sultry comments just to fluster you.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist