#2 in 1 shampoo for dogs

[johanneequestrian]

At JohanneEquestrian.com, we bring you a fantastic collection of best dog shampoo that mix nature and technology for your furry friend’s well-being. Dive into our world of canine care, where love for horses extends to our beloved dogs.

[mylove-thresher]

My dad said fugo looked like a fucking mosquito. 💔

[applecaviar]

How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 5

TW: Smut

Part 1 (Xavier)

Part 2 (Caleb)

Part 3 (Sylus)

Part 4 (Zayne)

You were sitting curled up on your couch, having resorted to losing yourself in the pages of romance novels over the last couple of weeks. Rafayel had been away on a work trip, leaving you with an emptiness that you tried to fill with the printed words and the promise of happily ever afters.

The book was just the kind you always liked, romance with some smut. Every time you stumbled across an oral sex scene, your fingers would linger, tracing the words and marking the page with a dog eared corner. It was a habit born out of a desperate need to overwrite the bitter memory of your past lover's words.

You could still hear his voice echoing in your mind, feel the cold sting of his criticism. The first time he had gone down on you, his nose had wrinkled in disgust. "I don't like the smell," he had muttered, pulling away and leaving you craving his touch. The taste, he had said with a grimace, was even worse. Those words had haunted you, making you question your own desire, your own worth.

You sighed softly, your fingers stilling on the page as you lost yourself in thought, remembering the few times Rafayel had tried to worship you with his mouth. Each time, you had pulled him up, stopping him mid motion, a flush of embarrassment painting your cheeks. You could never bring yourself to give him a reason why, too ashamed to admit the truth.

Rafayel had never pushed, always respecting your boundaries even as confusion clouded his eyes. He probably thought you simply didn't enjoy the act, that the idea of his head between your thighs left you cold. If only he knew the truth, that it was the exact opposite. The thought of his tongue exploring your folds, his lips sealing around your aching clit, made your core clench with need.

You shifted on the couch, your body growing warm as arousal began to course through your veins. The book forgotten as your mind drifted to fantasies of Rafayel's mouth on you, his hands gripping your hips as he feasted on your dripping sex. You wanted to fist your hands in his purple hair, wanted to grind your pussy against his face until you found your release.

A soft whimper escaped your lips at the thought, your thighs clenching together as you felt your panties growing damp. You were embarrassed by your own desire, ashamed of how much you craved the feeling of Rafayel's mouth on you.

Unable to focus on the words on the page any longer, you snapped the book shut, the spine creaking softly as you closed it. Rising from the couch, you placed the book on the small wooden table beside the lamp and made your way to the bathroom to shower, footsteps echoing in the empty apartment. Rafayel would be home in a few hours, and already your body was singing with anticipation, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.

The water ran over your skin, washing away the lingering traces of your desire. But even as the heat soaked into your muscles, you couldn't shake the ache between your thighs, the constant hunger that only Rafayel could satisfy.

You tilted your head back, eyes fluttering closed. You bit your lower lip, a soft moan escaping you as you imagined him carrying you out of the bathroom, your naked body on full display as he brought you to the bedroom. You could almost feel his mouth on your breasts, his tongue swirling around the hardened peaks until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

Suddenly you jumped slightly at the sound of Rafayel's voice, a thrill running down your spine at the realization that he was home. You hadn't expected him to be back so soon, figuring you still had a bit more time before his return.

"Just a moment, I'm finishing up in the shower!" you called out, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. Inside, your heart was racing, your body already responding to the mere sound of his voice.

You quickly finished rinsing the shampoo from your hair, the scent of vanilla and honey filling the steamy air. Turning off the taps, you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy towel and wrapping it around your body.

Back in your room you picked a simple sundress, the soft fabric falling to just above your knees. It was a dress you knew he liked, one that made his gaze linger on the way it hugged your curves.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you stepped out of your room, your bare feet sinking into the plush carpet of the hallway. You could hear Rafayel moving around in the living room, the soft clink of glass on glass telling you he was likely pouring himself a drink.

You paused for a moment, gathering your courage before stepping into the living room. Rafayel stood with his back to you, pouring a measure of amber liquid into a tumbler. He was dressed in a button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of dark slacks that hugged his sculpted ass.

"Welcome," you said softly, stepping further into the room. "I'm glad you're back early." You couldn't help the way your voice wavered slightly.

The moment Rafayel turned to face you, his striking blue and pink eyes locked onto yours, they immediately darkened with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat and in an instant, he was across the room, his long strides eating up the distance between you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against his firm chest. His eyes raked over your face, taking in every detail, the flush on your cheeks, the way your lips parted slightly as if in invitation. They drifted lower, lingering on the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric of your sundress. You could feel the heat of his gaze like a physical caress, your skin tingling in its wake.

"God, I've missed you," he breathed, before lowering his head and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent up longing and desire of the time you've spent apart, a kiss that spoke of a hunger that could only be sated by the feel of your body against his.

His lips moved over yours, his tongue delving into the warmth of your mouth to tangle with your own. You could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the smoky flavor mingling with the sweetness of his own unique taste.

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The other hand on your waist tightened, pressing your soft curves against the hard planes of his body until you could feel every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the growing bulge in his pants. He kissed you until you were breathless, until your head was spinning and your knees felt weak. He kissed you until you were clinging to him, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself against the storm of sensation he was unleashing.

"We can't... not right now, cutie," he said, his tone laced with regret . "Finish getting ready. I'm taking you back to my house, I have something I want to show you."

You nodded, your body still tingling from Rafayel's intense kiss and touch. With a soft sigh, you stepped back and made your way to your room to finish getting ready. As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, trailing over your curves, lingering on the sway of your hips as you moved. 

In your room, you quickly finished what you had started, brushing out your damp hair until it fell in soft waves around your shoulders. You slipped on a pair of cute, strappy sandals that showed off the delicate arches of your feet and painted nails. A quick swipe of mascara, a dab of gloss on your lips, and you were ready.

You took a deep breath before stepping back out into the living room, finding Rafayel exactly where you had left him, seated on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other as he sipped his drink.

Your eyes widened slightly as you noticed the book was no longer on the side table where you had left it, but instead resting on the couch cushion next to Rafayel. A wave of embarrassment washed over you a deep blush spreading across your face

You hoped with every fiber of your being that Rafayel hadn't flipped through the pages, hadn't seen the dog eared corners marking the scenes you found particularly...stimulating. The thought of him reading them, perhaps even catching a glimpse of the words describing the intimate acts you secretly longed to experience with him, made your core clench and your heart race.

Trying to play it cool, you casually made your way over to the couch, stopping a respectable distance away from where Rafayel was seated. "Ready to go?" you asked.

"I'm more than ready," Rafayel murmured, his voice smooth like velvet. In one fluid motion, he downed the last of his drink, the glass clinking softly as he set it back down on the table. Rising to his feet, he towered over you, his tall body casting a shadow that made you feel small and feminine in comparison.

Without warning, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a teasing kiss. It was a mere brush of his mouth against yours and before you could even react, he was pulling away, his hand slipping down to the small of your back as he guided you out of the apartment.

🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡

As you stepped through the doorway of Rafayel's house, suddenly finding yourself swept up into his arms, you let out a surprised gasp that quickly turned into a fit of giggles. "Rafayel!" you squealed, instinctively looping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. "Put me down! I can walk just fine on my own."

Despite your protests, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement course through you at being held so effortlessly in Rafayel's muscular arms. He carried you bridal style, your dress riding up slightly to reveal a peek of your smooth, bare thighs. 

Rafayel grinned at your laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made your heart flutter. "But I want to carry you," he insisted playfully, giving you a little squeeze as he held you close to his chest. "Buuuuuut, don't ever expect me to give you a piggyback ride, it will only make me look like a sea turtle" he teased, making you laugh even harder.

As Rafayel carried you into the living room, your laughter faded, replaced by a sudden gasp of surprise as you took in the romantic scene before you. The table was set for a fancy dinner, complete with a crisp white tablecloth, gleaming china, and a vase of fresh roses as a centerpiece.

But what caught your eye and made your cheeks flush a deep, telling pink was the painting hung on the wall behind the table. It was a stunning portrait of yourself, captured in a moment of unguarded joy and laughter. Your eyes sparkled, your lips were curved in a radiant smile, and your hair danced around your face as if caught in a soft breeze. The painting was breathtaking, his skills evident in every brushstroke.

"Rafayel..." you breathed, a mix of emotions clogging your throat. "When did you... how did you...?" You were at a loss for words, deeply touched that he had not only thought to create such a romantic setting for your dinner but had also painted your portrait and displayed it so prominently in his home.

Your heart raced as you met Rafayel's gaze, seeing the love and adoration shining in his eyes. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. "It's... it's wonderful," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Rafayel. 

"Puh-lease, you deserve much more than this" He said as he carried you closer to the table, letting you take in the romantic scene. "But I wanted to start by showing you, in my own way, how much you mean to me"

He set you down gently on your feet, keeping his arms around your waist as he looked into your eyes. The portrait loomed behind him, the painted version of you smiling down at the two of you, a silent witness to this intimate moment.

"Please, have a seat," he said softly, pulling the chair out for you like a true gentleman.

As you settled into the plush seat, he pushed the chair in, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head before stepping around to take his own seat across from you.

As you both savored the delicious meal, Rafayel talked about his trip, painting a vivid picture of the places he'd seen and the people he'd met. He spoke of the beautiful landscapes, the fascinating art he'd admired, and the new techniques he'd learned, all while his eyes never left yours.

As the plates were cleaned and the wine glasses drained, Rafayel set down his napkin and rose from his seat. "It's time for dessert," he announced with a playful grin, turning to head towards the kitchen.

As he walked back to the table, he stumbled slightly, his hands both occupied with holding two small, beautifully decorated cakes.

Instinctively, you jumped up to help, not wanting him to struggle alone. "Let me help you," you offered, hurrying over to where he stood, trying to regain his balance. As you approached, Rafayel lost his grip on one of the cakes, watching in horror as it tumbled to the floor with a soft thud.

"Oh, damn it," he cursed under his breath, his brow furrowing in frustration. But before he could bend down to clean up the mess, you were already on your knees, carefully gathering the pieces and setting them aside.

"Hand me that napkin..."

Suddenly you felt Rafayel's hands slip under your armpits. Before you could react, he was lifting you effortlessly to your feet, his fingers splaying across your back.

Startled, you let out a soft gasp as Rafayel began to walk you backwards to the table, his eyes darkening with a hunger that made your skin prickle.

With a gentle push of his hand, he swept the empty plates and cutlery aside, clearing a space on the table in front of where he stood. Your heart raced as you realized his intention, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the thought of what he had in mind. "Rafayel," you whispered, surprise and anticipation coloring your voice. But any further protests were silenced as he sat you on the edge of the table.

He stepped between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs, his fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh. There was a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I have a different kind of dessert in mind," His hands slid slowly up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your sundress higher and higher until the cool air kissed the bare skin beneath. "And trust me, cutie... Im going to love every single bite."

Rafayel sat back down in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly spread your legs apart, revealing more of your smooth skin.

As he leaned in closer, his face was hovering inches from your knee when you suddenly clenched your thighs together.

Rafayel paused, his hands still in between your thighs as he tilted his head to the side, his expression a mix of curiosity "Wait," he said softly, "How is it that you have no problem reading such...delicious filthy things in your books, but when I want to make them a reality for you, you suddenly get all shy?"

He leaned back slightly, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he studied your face, trying to understand the contradiction in your behavior. 

You took a deep, shaky breath, your cheeks burning with a fierce blush as you tried to find the right words. The truth hung heavily on your tongue, but you knew you could no longer hide from Rafayel, not when he was looking at you like that.

"Rafayel, I... I don't taste good down there," you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Embarrassed, you turned your face away from him, unable to meet his gaze as you confessed your insecurity. "I'm sorry, I just... I don't want you to think that I'm not appreciative of what you want to do. It's just..."

Before you could finish your confession, Rafayel's deep, rumbling voice cut through the air, "How do you know that?" he asked, his thumbs pausing their gentle circles on your thighs as he waited for your answer.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to bring up an ex-boyfriend while in the midst of this intimate moment with Rafayel. But seeing no alternative, you took a deep breath and replied softly, "A guy I was seeing before you... he told me that."

Rafayel let out a soft laugh at your words "Oh, so it was one of those boys, huh?" he mused, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

At the sound of his laughter, you found yourself turning back to face him, your curiosity piqued. As your gaze met his, you were struck by the sudden intensity of his eyes, they blazed with a mix of amusement, affection, and a hint of something else.

Rafayel's hand slid slowly up your thigh, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You know, y/n ," he murmured "I want to do absolutely filthy things to you, especially to this cute little cunt of yours."

As he spoke those dirty words, his hand reached the hem of your dress, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric to brush against the damp lace of your panties. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, could sense the way your body responded to his touch, even through the thin barrier of your underwear.

"But only if you let me," Rafayel purred, as he gazed deeply into your eyes. At the same time, he gently tugged your panties to the side and sank a single finger inside you, feeling your walls clench around the sudden intrusion. He groaned softly at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of your heat around his finger.

"And if you like what I'm about to do..." Rafayel said, his finger slowly pumping in and out of your tight cunt, "I won't be able to stop at just once. I'll need to taste you again and again until you are dripping down my chin.

He slowly pulled his glistening finger from your pussy, a low groan escaping his lips as he took in the sight of your arousal coating it and without a word, he brought his hand up to your mouth, his gaze locked onto yours.

"Open your mouth cutie ," he commanded softly, the tip of his finger brushing against your lower lip, smearing your arousal there. "Taste yourself on me. Taste how sweet and delicious you are."

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at the thought of tasting your own arousal. But the hunger in his eyes was impossible to ignore, his intense gaze daring you to comply with his command.

With a shaky breath, you parted your lips, allowing his finger to slip into your mouth. The moment it touched your tongue, you could taste the evidence of your desire, the faintly sweet and slightly musky flavor exploding across your taste buds. It was a new and intense experience, one that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine as you swirled your tongue around his finger.

Unable to hold back any longer, Rafayel acted on his primal instincts and in one swift motion, he bunched up the hem of your dress and brought the fabric to your lips, his eyes never leaving yours. "Here, hold this for me," his voice was thick with lust. "Bite down on it."

You reluctantly clamped your teeth onto the fabric, the action exposed your covered cunt to his hungry eyes, the damp lace clinging to you like a second skin.

He grabbed your hips, his strong hands gripping you possessively as he gently pulled you to the edge of the table. You gasped softly as he suddenly bent your right leg, exposing you even further to his greedy eyes. A shiver ran through you when he leaned in, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

He didn't dive in immediately, teasing you with a trail of soft kisses. His lips suckled at the delicate skin near your knee, his tongue darting out to taste you, to leave a path of fire in its wake. Slowly, torturously, he worked his way up your thigh, inching closer and closer to your center.

"Rafayel..." you whimpered around the fabric stuffed in your mouth, your hips writhing with anticipation. 

Rafayel continued sucking dark hickeys into the soft skin of your inner thigh, marking you as his. Each one sent jolts of electricity zipping through your nervous system, making you squirm and gasp.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the intensity of the sensations, Rafayel lifted his head and a breathy moan escaped your lips as you felt the ghost of his breath skating across your cunt. Instinctively, you tried to clamp your thighs together, but Rafayel was too quick, his hands gripped your knees, holding them firmly apart as he gazed at your glistening folds, barely concealed by the damp lace of your panties. "Don't hide from me, my cute miss bodyguard, I want to see all of you, taste all of you."

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against the damp fabric as he inhaled deeply, taking in your intoxicating scent. "Fuck, you smell divine," he groaned.

You felt Rafayel hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties, the damp lace clinging to your sensitive flesh. With a sharp tug, he yanked them down your legs, the scrap of fabric sliding over your skin and baring your dripping pussy to his hungry gaze.

"Look at you," Rafayel growled "So fucking wet and ready for me. I've barely touched you and you're already dripping."

Instead of immediately giving in to the urge to devour you whole, Rafayel paused. He trailed his fingers lightly through your folds, feeling the hot, silky evidence of your arousal coating his digits. Slowly, teasingly, he circled your entrance with the pad of his thumb, applying a delicious pressure that made your walls clench and flutter eagerly.

You let out a soft whimper, your body aching for more of his touch. Rafayel looked up at you "Patience my petite artiste," he murmured as the rough pad of his thumb pressed against the swollen nub, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. At the same time, he slipped two long, thick fingers deep inside you, curling them just so to brush against that special spot that made you see stars.

You gasped and writhed beneath his touch, your body overwhelmed with the intense sensations. An arm flung over your eyes as you surrendered to the feeling, your breath coming in sharp, quick pants. Soft mewls and whimpers escaping as Rafayel worked you over with skilled fingers. Drool was beginning to soak the fabric you had been biting down on.

You could feel the heat of his breath puffing against your dripping folds, could sense how close his handsome face was to your core. The knowledge that he wasn't repulsed, that he wanted to taste you, to consume you, only heightened your arousal. Your juices flowed freely, coating his fingers and dripping down onto the table beneath you.

As you felt your climax building, your body tensing and coiling like a spring ready to snap, Rafayel changed his tactic. Just as you were on the edge of ecstasy, he dragged his tongue along your slit. The sensation was electric, sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He started at your entrance, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping up the slick arousal that coated them. He groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh and pushing you even closer.

You cried out, your voice echoing through the room as Rafayel's lips closed around your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you clung to it for dear life. The fabric you had been biting down on fell from your lips, leaving Rafayel under the skirt of your dress.

"Oh god—" you gasped, your words dissolving into a strangled moan as he sucked even harder on your clit, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud.

Your hips jerked and bucked, trying to grind against his face, desperate for more of that exquisite friction. The feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit, suckling and teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves, combined with the thrust of his fingers pumping in and out of you was pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

"Oh fuck—" you panted, pulling your dress back, hands tangling in his hair as you held him against you, not wanting him to stop. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his fingers, growing tighter and tighter as your climax rapidly approached.

Rafayel!" you screamed, your voice breaking as the first waves of your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered, juices gushing from your spasming cunt to flood his mouth and chin. Your hands gripped his hair harder, simultaneously pulling him closer and pushing him away as you rode out the crest of your climax.

A final moan tore from your throat as the last waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you feeling boneless. When your eyes fluttered open, you found Rafayel looking at you, his face glistening with your juices. He wore a smug, satisfied smirk as he took in the sight of you, wrecked by the force of your orgasm.

"Well?" he asked before he licked his lips, savoring your taste. 

Suddenly, tears began to stream down your cheeks, your emotions running high from the intense experience. Rafayel's expression immediately shifted to one of concern as he took in your sudden distress. He gently removed his fingers from your core and brushed the tears from your face with his thumb, his brow furrowed in worry.

"Cutie, what's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern. "Did I hurt you somehow? I'm so sorry if I did..."

He trailed off as he noticed the way your shoulders shook with silent sobs, confusion etched across his face. Just then, a small hiccup escaped your lips, followed by a choked laugh.

"I can't believe I've been missing out on this all this time. Why did I wait so long to let you do that?"

Rafayel blinked in surprise at your words, then let out a deep, rumbling laugh. He shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh, cutie," he chuckled, his thumb brushing away another stray tear. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you never have to go without again."

[lay-z]

Mommy's Good Pup (1/2)

— pairing: sub!John ‘Soap’ MacTavish ⨯ fem!Reader

— warnings/info: 18+ | smut; pet play; established romantic relationship; himbofication; dom/sub dynamic; mommy kink; rimming; free use; unrealistic amount of cum/orgasms; fluff/aftercare; abrupt ending

Johnny has some secret kinks he’d love to explore with the first woman he truly loves and trusts. 

The front door slams shut behind you as you toe off your shoes to leave them behind before making your way into the flat, clutching the sleek black shopping bag in your right hand. 

When you enter the living room, Johnny has already perked up on the couch like a loyal dog who’s been waiting for his owner―which is already too perfect itself. 

Dressed in nothing else but a pair of black boxers and a loose-fitted tank top that matches his eye colour and gives a nice view of his muscular arms and shoulders, his baby blues light up as he tosses his phone aside on the couch cushion haphazardly, focusing all his attention on you and flashing a toothy smile before his handsome face twists into a sudden scowl. 

“Where were ye?” His voice is only half accusing with a petulant undertone, like you’ve left for days without a note instead of barely two hours. “I’ve been worried.” 

Approaching the couch, you put the bag down on the coffee table. “Running some errands downtown,” you answer honestly, giving a small unapologetic shrug. “Traffic was a pain in the arse, so it took a bit longer. Sorry.” 

He pouts, grumbling under his breath: “Could’a told me. Doesnae take much to type a wee message, innit?” 

You suppress a smile, but your eyes twinkle with mirth. Johnny is too adorable when he’s needy and clingy―which is always whenever he’s home from work and life on base. 

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were at the gym.” The scowl softens―even more so when you close the distance and slowly crawl onto his lap, knees bracketing his meaty thighs on either side as you straddle him. His hands come up naturally to rest on your backside, groping your ass cheeks through your jeans as his head tips back to peer up at you. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “So thoughtful,” he croaks, pupils already dilating and swallowing up the baby blue of his irises. “But I missed my woman. Always do, ye know tha’, right?” 

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start rubbing and caressing the sore muscles, nodding absentmindedly. He’s still warm from his recent shower, his golden skin lightly flushed, and dark mohawk damp while the fresh scent of his minty two in one bodywash and shampoo clings to him. 

Johnny leans his head back against the couch, eyelids drooping with a soft sigh as he enjoys your gentle massage and the weight of you on his lap. It’s the missing piece of truly returning home and all he’s going to be craving on his leave for the next two weeks. 

His fingers dig into the plump fat of your arse through the rough fabric of your jeans, like a kitten making biscuits, then his gaze drifts over to the coffee table and the black bag resting on top of it. 

“So... what did ye get, hm?” he asks curiously. From the looks of the volume, you bought quite a few things. 

Trailing your fingertips along his collarbones where they peek out from his tank top, you draw your thumbs up to trace the curve of his thick neck with a look that borders on hungry as you observe how his pulse throbs below his skin. 

After licking your lips, you answer: “A few surprises for you to celebrate the start of your leave, baby. It’s something uh... something I think you’ll like a lot.” 

Dark eyebrows draw together in a curious and intrigued frown, hips shifting underneath you as he sinks deeper into the cushions, adjusting his grip on your body. It’s subtle, but his beginning restlessness is enough to let you know that you have his full attention―like dangling a treat in front of a puppy’s snout. 

“Oh, aye? A kitchen or bedroom surprise?” He lets out a boyish little laugh as you lean back to grab the bag and place it between your bodies. “Both, I suppose,” you answer with a pondering pout. “Depending on where we use it.” 

He snorts, heart skipping in his chest as you begin rummaging through the contents of the bag.  

“I just have a few questions, okay? Nothing bad, though.” And your own heart flutters nervously as your fingers wrap around the black soft leather collar. The small heart shaped name tag jingles softly as you pull it out―stainless steel glinting in the daylight with Mommy’s Good Pup engraved on it in cursive letters. 

“Like... is this too much?” you ask, lashes fluttering with nerves and excitement as you show off the collar. His collar. 

Johnny gulps audibly. Bright eyes widening comically as you reveal your surprise―or one of them at least. His cheeks flush a soft pink as his heart begins to pound blood through his veins, most of it rushing south and into his head simultaneously, nearly making him dizzy. He practically stares at the collar dangling from your fingers. The engraving on the tag causing his cock to twitch in his briefs and the softest gasp to hitch in his throat. 

So, you did pick up on the hints he has been dropping for the past weeks. 

“No, it’s... it’s perfect,” he manages to stammer, unable to tears his gaze away from the collar. “Ye could never have somethin’ like this be too much, luv.” 

Licking his lips nervously, like a dog licking its chaps, he reaches out with sweaty palms to take the gift from your delicate grasp.  

The black leather is soft and supple, obviously top-quality, the tag cool against his skin. It’s not too heavy, just enough to be a comforting pressure around his neck when fastened around it. A shudder runs down his spine as he runs his thumb over the engraving, tracing the letters that would soon rest against his skin.  

He clears his throat before speaking: “So, ye’ve picked up on my hints, hm? And–” he clears his throat again and finally glances up at you again, his voice soft and strangely vulnerable, a hint of fear and excitement swirling in the depths of his eyes. “Ye dinnae think it’s... weird, do ye?” 

A part of him is still unreasonably terrified of your reaction, even though you’ve already bought the collar, making the first huge step into the direction of this new kink he’s all too excited to finally explore with someone he trusts and loves more than he ever thought possible. 

However, another part of him is utterly elated and eager to finally have you put the collar on him, to have you claim him the way he has been dreaming to be claimed and loved since first laying eyes on you. 

You can almost see the insecure and doubtful thoughts play in his head like a horror movie before you take the collar back to unbuckle it swiftly. “No, not weird at all, baby.” You assure him with a small shrug. “I just wish you would’ve felt comfortable enough with me to just... tell me or talk about it, y’know? That’s what the John MacTavish I know and love usually does.” 

His chest deflates as he exhales the deep breath he was holding, nodding eagerly. “I... I jus’ wasn’t brave enough,” he admits softly, his Scottish accent thicker than usual. “Ye ken I’m usually pretty open, but... this was different. It felt like something special and weird, something I wanted to keep just for me. Until I met ye.” 

Your soft hum of acknowledgment and understanding makes him relax into the cushion, though his cock begins to throb and harden as you bring up the collar to his thick neck, your eyes locking with his in question. 

“May I collar you now, baby? Make you my sweet pup officially?” you ask playfully, already fitting the leather around his neck, but waiting for his permission to fasten it. 

The words Mommy’s Good Pup glint up at Johnny, making his heart race and his cock twitch again, nestled under your crotch. He feels the anticipation building inside him, the need to give himself over to you completely slowly bordering on overwhelming. This is what he’s been dreaming of and it’s finally becoming a reality. 

“Aye,” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ye can collar me, love. I’m all yers.” 

Your own heart beats rapidly as you buckle up and secure the collar around his neck, listening to his words and seeing his pulse in his neck throb so deliciously. 

“I know you are, baby, and I love that, but there’s some stuff we need to clear up before we do this, okay?” you remark thoughtfully while flicking the little name tag with your fingertip with a soft giggle before rubbing your palms up and down his buff chest. “What exactly is this about? Do you want to be used? Need more attention and loving? A little bit of degradation or more praise? Talk to me, Johnny. I wanna understand this new... experiment.” 

Johnny's breath catches in his throat as you secure the collar around his neck, the leather moulding perfectly to his golden tanned skin. He can feel the weight of it, a tangible reminder of who he belongs to officially now―in a way he’s never quite belonged to anyone before.  

His pulse races beneath your fingertips as you flick the name tag, the jingle echoing in his ears like a promise of things to come. 

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tries to find the words to express the swirling thoughts and desires in his head. Your supple palms feel like brands against his chest, even through the fabric of his tank top, your touch igniting a fire deep within him, like searing napalm spreading through his veins. He wants to lean into you, feel your warmth and affection wash over him. 

“It’s... it’s about givin’ myself over to ye completely,” he starts to explain, his voice now low and heavy with emotion. “I want to be used for yer pleasure, to be the instrument of yer own desire. Want to make ye feel good and worship yer bonnie body like ye deserve.” 

He reaches up to cup your face in his large, calloused hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones gently. “I need yer attention when I’m home. Yer focus, yer love. I want to be the centre of yer world, even if only fer a moment. And... and I want to be pushed, to be tested. I want to be praised for bein’ a good boy, but... I also want to be punished when am bein’ bad.” 

A fierce blush stains his cheeks now, but he keeps holding your lovely gaze, determined to be honest with you. “I want to be degraded; to be told ‘m jus’ a dumb animal, a set of holes f’ye to use. But I also want to be cherished, to be held an’ kissed an’ told that ye love me. I want it all, hen. I want everythin’ you can give me.” 

You hum and nod along, leaning into his touch as he lists of his deepest desires, needs, and wants while you continue to rub his chest, feeling his muscular thighs tense as you straddle him, cock twitching and swelling to live as you sit on his crotch. His boxer briefs doing little to nothing to hide his growing arousal. 

“Mhm, yeah,” you rasp, pinching and rolling his nipples through his shirt with half-lidded eyes, thoroughly enjoying the flush on his cheeks. “That sounds very lovely to me, baby. Thank you for telling me.” 

You keep toying with his peaking nipples as he begins to squirm and breathe harder. “But my good boy needs to tell me about his safe word again before we start doing anything, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?” 

Johnny gasps as your fingers find his nipples, the sensitive buds hardening under your teasing touch. His hips buck up slightly, seeking more friction, more contact. The growing bulge in his briefs throbs and twitches against your clothed core, his cock aching to be freed. 

“Y-yeah, of course,” he pants, his cheeks burning hotter under your intense gaze and the shift of your tone to something more dominant, soft yet demanding. “My safe word... is Loch Ness. If it’s too much, I’ll say Loch Ness.” 

His hands drop from your beautiful face to cover your hands with his own, pressing them more firmly against his chest. His heart races beneath your palms, a staccato beat that matches the pounding of his cock against the confines of his underwear. 

“Please, Mommy... I want to be so good fer ye. I want to give ye everythin’ you need,” he nearly whimpers, his voice raw with desire. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’m yers.” 

“Loch Ness,” you repeat evenly with a few nods, allowing him to guide your hands for a moment as you start grinding your hips to stimulate his bulge when he bucks his hips with a soft grunt. “So... let’s say, whenever you’re in the mood to play, you will put on the pretty collar I’ve bought you, okay? And vice versa. I’ll ask permission to put it on you when Mommy would like to play with her sweet pup. Sound good?” 

Johnny shudders as you grind your hips against his, the friction of your rough jeans sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. His cock throbs harder, a damp patch forming on his boxers as his arousal grows. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him as he rolls his own hips up to meet yours, letting out a shaky breath. 

He has officially ascended and found heaven; there is no other explanation for this. 

“Yes, Mommy,” he gasps. “Whenever I want to play, I’ll put on my collar fer ye. And whenever ye want to play, ye can ask to put it on me. I’ll always be ready for ye, though.” 

He leans in to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. “I want to be ready for you all the time. I want to be a good boy, always eager and attentive. Yer good pup, Mommy.” 

“Good,” you reply with a soft gasp, observing as his eyes begin to gloss over while he submits to you so willingly, letting go of any stress or troubles from his work as his brain melts out of his ears metaphorically. “Good fucking boy, Johnny.” You coo at him, one hand clutching his shoulder while the other grips the sofa’s backrest for leverage as you begin to dry-hump his cock more fervently. 

“My sweet boy, hm? Are you gonna cum in your undies for Mommy now? Gonna show me how desperate you are for me?” 

The bag crinkles and slides off his lap with your movements, but neither of you cares. Johnny lets out a low moan as you hump his crotch, his fingers digging into your hips as he bites his lower lip, determined to follow your wish and command as he focuses on the feeling on top of you and the pressure around his neck while the tag jingles cutely against the collar. 

The pressure and friction are enough delicious torture to push him closer to the edge embarrassingly fast; his hips bucking erratically, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him so freely.

“Oh fuck... Christ,” he pants harshly through gritted teeth. “I’m so feckin’ desperate for ye, Mommy. I f-feel... ‘m gonna... Fuck–!” His cock jerks and pulses rhythmically, tip leaking more precum and staining his boxers.  

Johnny’s been wanting and craving you since returning home late last night; too late to disturb your peaceful sleep for a welcome home quickie, which has only left him even more pent up after hitting the gym today. 

“Please, let me... I–I need... ‘m gonna cum. P-Please, let me cum!” He admits shamefully, face burning hot with humiliation and arousal while you give him a first taste of exactly what he asked for―and it’s almost too thrilling and too much already, if it weren’t for the way you moan along with him in pleasure. 

With a strangled cry and his eyes squeezing shut, Johnny comes undone. Cock pulsing and jerking as it erupts in his boxer briefs so hard, his cum soaks and spurts right through the fabric, painting his boxers and your jeans white. His bulky mass shudders and convulses, hands gripping you possessively as he gets lost in the throes of an intense, shameful climax. 

Meanwhile, you watch and feel him come with a smile. Your own soft moans overshadowed by his as he makes a mess between you two. 

Cupping his face with both hands, you hold him steady as he continues to pant and shudder, your breaths mingling briefly before you capture his lips in a deep, filthy kiss; tongue delving past his lips to claim his mouth and get a first real taste of his submission while Johnny whimpers into the kiss, his body still trembling and quaking with aftershocks. 

“Oh, fuck,” you groan after pulling back slightly. “My good fucking boy. Came so fucking much for me, hm? All for Mommy, sweet pup.” 

Your praise washes over him like warm milk and honey, wrapping him up in a blissful feeling of home. When you pull back, he chases after your lips with a soft whine, hands roaming your flanks, desperate to keep you close. 

“A-Aye,” he stammers weakly. “All f’ye. I couldn’t–couldn’t hold back, not when ye’r doin’ all this f’me. I’m so sorry, I jus’ couldnae control it. It’s embarrassing.” 

In unison, you both peer down at the mess he’s made with his massive load of cum, a mix of shame and pride warring in his expression while your foreheads rest against one another. 

You click your tongue in reprimand, shaking your head with a soft smirk as you nuzzle your nose against his.  

“No, not embarrassing, baby. Never embarrassing. I love it when you cum quickly, when I make you feel so good and horny that you can’t help yourself but cum for me. Okay?” You’re practically cooing at him as you start caressing his muscular torso again, rubbing your palms along his arms and shoulders. 

Johnny shudders at your gentle touch, his skin tingling with goosebumps and his cock giving a feeble twitch of renewed interest. Your reassuring words make his heart swell with happiness and love, and he leans into your caress, craving more of your touch as he soaks it all up with greed. 

“Really, Mommy?” he asked softly, a hint of wonder in his voice. “Ye dinnae think it’s gross or pathetic? Am glad I could make ye feel good, but... I wanted to last longer for ye. I wanted to worship ye properly before I lost control.” 

He peers up at you with a mix of affection and determination, his hands sliding down to your hips again while the smell of you and his drying cum fills his nostrils. “Can I make it up to ye, Mommy? Can I worship yer gorgeous curves properly, now that I’ve calmed down a bit?” 

You keep caressing him sweetly, feeling his skin break out in goosebumps beneath your palms while his bright blue eyes sparkle with wonder and adoration, causing your own chest to heave and blossom with warmth, butterflies going rampant in your stomach. 

But you shake your head. “No, Johnny. It’s not gross or pathetic. I like exploring this kink with you. I love that you want to do this with me. You’re mine, baby. My sweet Johnny, and I’m yours. All yours.” You lean in to kiss the tip of his nose, his scruffy cheek, his lips―each sweet kiss serving to underline your statements, your claim on each other. 

“How about we stay in today, hm? Order some food later and just... keep playing a bit, hm? What do you say?” 

A blissful and cheeky smile spreads across his face as he nuzzles into your touch, savouring the closeness. Before he answers, he turns his face to capture your lips in another deep kiss, groaning contentedly into your mouth. 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, Mommy,” he murmurs roughly, his hands sliding around to cup your plush rear, giving you a squeeze and pulling you harder against his lap despite the mess. “Stayin’ in, orderin’ food, playin’ with my beautiful Mistress... sounds like a bloody perfect day.” 

He pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes while his hands tug on your shirt to pull it from the waistband of your jeans before they slide under the stretchy fabric to explore the supple skin of your back until you arch into his touch, ass grinding over his softened prick again. 

“Aye, let’s stay in, order a feast, and see where the day takes us. I want to spend every moment I can worshippin’, pleasin’, and lovin’ ye, hen.” 

Your eyelids flutter closed with a soft sigh as you let him caress and explore your body for a moment, listening to his words before your eyes flutter open again. 

The black collar you’ve bought him looks so good around his throat, along with the little dog name tag, that you can’t help but touch it again before you glance at the bag still resting and half-spilled beside you on the couch cushion. 

“I've bought more than this collar, y’know,” you say, biting your cheek to keep yourself from grinning too wickedly. “But before we continue, I want you to get naked for me... and I want you to stay naked for the rest of the day, except for the pretty collar... and the butt plug I’ve bought for you.” 

Butt plug. 

That makes his breath hitch even sharper while your fingers trail along his collar, his hands still underneath your shirt. Nervousness and excitement flash in his bright eyes as he swallows thicky, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. 

“Butt plug?” he repeats softly, a hint of awe in his voice. “I cannae believe ye’d spoil me so.” He slowly pulls his hands away from your body, more than reluctantly. 

Johnny has shoved quite a few fingers up his own arse while exploring himself in the past, has taken your fingers on multiple occasions now, and even that small pink love egg vibrator that he usually uses on your clit―but he’s never taken a butt plug.  

“Not just any butt plug,” you announce, already reaching over to pull it out of the bag. “It has a tail, too!” 

And when you present it to him, Johnny’s eyes nearly roll back into his skull as a feverish wave of desire and arousal overcomes him while he mentally thanks any god that is responsible for bringing you into his eyes. 

“Fuck,” he groans, chest heaving with deep breaths as he watches your fingers curl around the stainless-steel plug―with a beige fluffy tail attached to it. “Didn’t think white would suit you, so I picked beige.” 

You sound so giddy and eager, it’s maddening, and Johnny can feel his cock slowly pulse and throb back to life despite his release mere moments ago. 

“Oh, aye?” His voice sounds breathless as he reaches for the hem of his tank top to follow your other instructions, more than eager to get naked for you. He pulls the soft blue fabric over his head and drops it next to him haphazardly. “I don’t care much about the bloody colour as long as ye find it pretty, love.” 

Your soft chuckle is music to his ears, and he must force himself to nudge you off his lap, so he can tug his ruined boxer briefs down next while you sit back on your haunches next to him. Standing up, he shimmies out of the sticky, uncomfortable fabric; muscles rippling with his movements as his soft cock is exposed, his naked body now fully on display for you, except for the black collar around his neck. 

The dog tag jingles softly as he sits back down on the couch, his muscular thighs spreading as he gets more comfortable, his expression a mix of vulnerability and excited anticipation as he meets your eyes again. 

“Like this, Mommy?” he rasps. “Is this what ye wanted to see?” And he spreads his legs more, needing and yearning for all your attention on him while his impressive cock and balls rest between his thighs, framed by dark, unruly pubes that connect to a thick happy trail. “Am all yers, ready to wear whatever ye bought me, ready to be yers in every way.” 

“Fucking perfect, sweet pup,” you purr hoarsely after watching him undress for you, and you reach out to caress and rub his chest once more, feeling his coarse dark chest hair under your fingertips before you lightly tug on his rosy nipple with a pleased smile, eliciting a gasp from him. “I want to put the tail plug inside you,” you remark, feeling his heartbeat thud against your palm while his fat, spent cock throbs between his meaty thighs. “Can I?” 

If Johnny had a tail, it would certainly be wagging right now, but alas―he can merely nod eagerly to show you how much he’d enjoy that, eyes sparkling with glee and trust as he scrambles on the couch to get in position for you. 

Scooting toward the edge of the couch cushion, and without hesitation, he lifts his legs and spreads them wider, putting his whole business and tight, puckered hole on lewd display for you. The musky scent of his sweat and arousal fill the air even thicker now as Johnny reaches down to hold himself open, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh of his ass. 

“Please, Mommy,” he whines needily, his hips lifting slightly as if offering himself to you. “Put it inside me. Claim me, own me, make me yer good boy.” 

“Aw, my sweet boy.” You rub his taut belly teasingly. “So fucking needy, hm? Fuck, I love that.” Pulling back, you get up from the couch and grab the sex toy. 

It’s not too big for him, you made sure of that when you bought it, measuring it with your fingers to compare the thickness, knowing that he’s taken three of your fingers in the past before. 

“Stay here and keep presenting that pretty asshole for me, yeah? I’ll clean this and get the lube.” You announce, caressing the fluffy tail along his arm playfully before leaving the living room. 

Johnny keeps shuddering and trembling even as you leave the room while your sweet praise rings in his ears like the echo of a gunshot, making him feel cherished and desired.  

The plug you’ve bought isn’t ginormous, but it’s certainly bigger that anything he’s taken up his arse before―and the thought of that furry tail wagging from his ass sends a thrill through him that nearly makes him feel drunk with desire and need. 

While you’re gone, he focuses on keeping his ass raised and spread, his puckered hole clenching and fluttering as the cool air from the AC brushes over his flushed skin. He can feel his flaccid cock starting to swell and lengthen again, the knowledge of what is about happen arousing him immensely once more. 

The sheer thought of having the toy stretch him and have his insides moulded to its shape enough to have him moan quietly, knowing he’ll be feeling that delicious ache for days as a reminder of your touch and claim on him. 

After a few minutes, you return, wearing nothing but a short black silk robe, holding the trusty bottle of lube and the tailed butt plug in your hands. 

Seeing that Johnny is still in the same position on the couch—keeping his legs up, hands under his bent knees while his ass rests on the edge of the couch seat, presenting his puckered asshole for you—pleases you more than you could’ve ever imagined. 

His face is flushed, his cock fully hard again despite having cum just a few minutes ago. It’s a sight to behold and one that makes your pussy even wetter as you approach him on bare feet, dimming the lights on your way over to him for a more sensual atmosphere. 

“Such a good boy, Johnny,” you praise him with a smile. “Doing so well for me, baby.” 

Getting down on your knees in front of him, you put the toy and lube down before you start massaging and groping his plump ass and the back of his meaty thighs while you watch his fat prick twitch and leak onto his stomach. 

“You’re okay, yeah? Talk to me.” 

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat at your return, azure eyes widening at the sight of you in the short silk robe. The black fabric clings to your curves, secured with a belt around your waist like a present for him, hinting at the delights hidden beneath.  

“Y-Yeah,” he answers with genuine awe at your sweetness, though he doesn’t know anything else but love and care from you. “I’m okay, ‘m more than okay. I feel amazin’, being here for ye like this.” 

And his hips buck slightly, cock jumping as you start groping and caressing him again. 

“Fuck, luv,” he groans, his head lolling back as he pushes his ass more firmly into your touch. “Yer hands feel s’good, Mommy. I love how ye touch me, how ye make me feel. So safe and loved.” When he gazes down at you with hooded eyes, his pupils are blown wide with lust. “I’m ready for the toy, Mommy. I want to feel it stretchin’ me open, claimin’ me inside and out as yours.” 

Hearing his confirmation that he’s okay eases your own hidden insecurities and helps you relax as you watch and study his every reaction. 

“That’s good, baby.” You smile up at him, eyes meeting as he holds his legs open for you, still caressing his ass and legs. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this, that you can finally experience this wish of yours with me. I’m enjoying this a lot, too.” 

Your eyes flicker to his flushed, twitching cock, and you lick your lips as observe the milky bead of precum drip onto his stomach while his balls keep throbbing. 

“Hm, but before I put the plug inside, I want you to cum again, okay? I’ll help you a bit more with that this time, I promise.” And with that, you spread his ass cheeks a little wider as you lean in to lick and suck on his plump balls. 

Johnny lets out a loud, strangled moan as soon as your warm, wet tongue starts lapping at his sensitive balls, your sweet lips latching around his flesh. The sensation sends electric jolts of pleasure shooting up his spine, making his spent cock bob against his stomach, sticky pre smearing across his lower stomach. His hands tighten on the backs of his knees, fingers sinking into the flesh as he tries his best to hold himself open for you. 

“Oh fuck!” he cries out, his voice breaking on a gasp. “That f-feels incredible–”  

His hips buck involuntarily, pressing his sac more firmly against your suckling mouth. The combination of your lips and tongue on him like this, and the filthy sight of you on your knees before him, is rapidly pushing him towards another intense climax. 

“Please, M-Mommy,” he pants harshly, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his brow. “Keep goin’, just like that. I'm gettin’ close again, s-so fuckin’ fast. Fuck! I want to cum f’ye, want ta give ye another load.” 

Listening to his wrecked voice, his moans and whimpers, makes your pussy drip and slick steadily while your cheeks grow even hotter with arousal as you taste his very essence on your tastebuds. 

Knowing that he’s already close again by the way his shaft twitches and his balls twitch on your tongue, you pull back to start peppering kisses around his sac and hairy thighs, going lower until you reach his sensitive taint. 

Leaning in, you lap and tease the area before going even lower—until you finally reach his puckered hole. And while you dig your fingers into his firm, trembling thighs, you spit on it obscenely before leaning in with a needy moan, and you start licking his hole, giving him his first proper rim job from. 

And Johnny lets out a guttural, animalistic moan as your tongue makes contact with his ass. The sensation unlike anything he has ever felt before, electric and overwhelming in its intensity. His body convulses, back arching off the couch as he fists his hands in the cushions. 

“AH, FUCK!” he roars, his voice echoing off the living room walls. “Holy shite–shite, shite... that feels... FUCK! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

He’s so incredibly hard, his cockhead flaring an angry purple as it weeps a steady stream of precum onto his flushed skin. He’s whining and moaning so loud, you’re almost afraid the neighbours might hear, but his sounds are too sweet, his taste so good that you can’t really care. 

His balls draw up so tight they ache, his orgasm building to a crescendo while your nifty tongue delves deeper, probing and teasing his fluttering hole, pushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm. 

“Mommy, I’m... I’m gonna... FUCK!” Johnny yipped, his body going rigid as his climax slams into him like a bomb blast. 

Thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his tip, painting his chest and stomach with streak after streak of his release. His asshole clenched and spasmed around your invading tongue, milking it, as if trying to coax you inside while Johnny’s eyes rolled back in his head, lost in the sensations of another mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Mommy... Mommy!” he chants breathlessly, his hips bucking erratically as he rides out the waves of his release, his speech slurring: “Fuck... s’good... so fuckin’ good.” 

You can feel your own slick arousal coat and stick to the inside of your thighs as you continue licking his rim and up his taint again while you reach for the tailed plug resting next to your knees while he’s too distracted―still coming, babbling, and shaking with aftershocks. 

Your clit throbs and pulses hotly between your folds, but you keep ignoring your own needs for now as you pop the cap of the bottle of lube open, and smearing a generous glob on the sex toy before you pull back from his ass to tease his fluttering hole with the smooth, round tip of the plug. 

“Atta boy,” you coo hoarsely, kissing and nipping his inner thigh as you slowly push the toy inside. “Relax for me, baby. You’re doing so good. So good for your Mommy.” 

Johnny’s cock continues to twitch, dribbling the last weak spurts of his release onto his stomach, coating his body hair. His bulky chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, sweat matting the short strands of his hair to his forehead, the feeling of the cool air on his slick skin and sore muscles making him shiver. 

When he feels the smooth tip of the plug teasing his slick hole, Johnny lets out a breathless moan. “Oh... oh, f-fuck.” His hips twitch slightly as you push the plug in a little further. “That feels... s-strange. But good. Oh, really fuckin’ good.” 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and forces his body to relax, his muscles going pliant under your teasing ministrations as you suck a lovebite into his inner thigh. “I’m ready, Mommy,” he murmurs, gazing down at you with hazy, trusting eyes like the loyal puppy he is. 

“Shhhh, my sweet pup.” You shush him, still massaging his meaty thigh with one hand while pushing the thick plug deeper inside his ass; twisting and rolling it teasingly while his puckered hole clenches around it, sucking it deeper inside. 

“Just relax and feel this, yeah? I’m gonna make you turn all dumb for me tonight. Gonna turn you into my dump, sweet pup, Johnny.” 

Johnny whines and whimpers in return, his cheeks flushing as deeply as his swollen prick at your promising words, his shaft still hard as you push and tease the fat plug deeper into his asshole, fulfilling his deepest desire to serve and act as your dumb, loyal, and utterly submissive pet. 

And to think Johnny initially planned to put the collar on you.

[tobesolnelyx]

— touch my body tender || fratboy!shauna shipman x fem!reader — part 2

a/n: hello, im hearing you all :D find part 1 here

summary: you’re trying to work things our with your ex girlfriend. trying…yeah. and the fact that you end up fucking is totally an accident. hurt/comfort. modern college au. g!p shauna. song: back to friends by sombr

warnings: NSFW - MDNI.

The first thing Shauna registered upon waking was the warm body pressed against her. Her hand rested softly on your back, while the other had snuck onto your thigh, holding you close even in a state of half-consciousness.

The second thing was your scent. Not just your perfume, which had already faded, but the unmistakable smell that belonged to you. She furrowed her brows, thinking maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or that one of the girls wore the same perfume and that’s why she ended up in bed with her (it happened more often than she cared to admit). Then, she pressed her nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, and she knew, too many things lined up for this to be just a coincidence.

She brushed her fingers across your thigh. Suddenly, she became acutely aware of the weight of your body resting on her chest. She was certain she had fallen asleep on her stomach, but clearly the two of you had shifted positions during the night.

She opened her eyes and groaned when brutally bright light flooded the room. She closed them again and, almost out of habit, began gently scratching your back.

She opened her mouth. Something dangerous almost slipped out. Something like “baby,” so she closed it again. She was tempted to press her lips to your skin but held herself back. Just because you were sleeping on top of her didn’t mean that, once you woke up, you wouldn’t jump to your feet and pretend none of it ever happened.

Shauna froze, trying to imprint this moment into her memory. After the breakup she kept wondering when the last time had been that the two of you had lain in bed together in the morning. She hadn’t appreciated it enough then. Now, at least if she were to lose you again, she wanted to hold onto this feeling in her mind.

Shauna felt the white noise in her head quiet down, replaced by a blissful silence. As if someone had turned off an old TV and made her look away from the screen.

No matter how hard it had been to breathe because of what you said, for the first time in weeks, Shauna felt like at least she could breathe again.

You stirred, and Shauna froze in place, not daring to disrupt the moment. She even held her breath, and now, in the early morning, the frat house seemed weirdly quiet. Almost inappropriately so, as if it too had frozen, holding its breath in sync with hers. Shauna didn’t hear any footsteps, no voices. Only the faint sounds of the house and a dog barking somewhere in the distance.

She looked at you again. You sighed softly, your thigh pressing instinctively deeper into Shauna’s hand, and your breathing steadied once more. You hadn’t woken up so Shauna’s fingers resumed their gentle journey along your back, eventually slipping under your shirt, savoring the feel of your skin beneath her fingertips.

She didn’t know how much time passed before you finally moved, and Shauna immediately knew you were waking up. She’d spent too many mornings next to you in bed not to recognize even the smallest signs. She’d repeated that ritual longer with you than with anyone else.

She watched as you slowly came to your senses. At first, it didn’t even faze you. You melted into her even more out of pure habit. Only after a moment you registered exactly where you were, and whose heartbeat you were hearing. You sat up a little too quickly, the world spinning for a second as you tried to get up, but before you could fully pull away, Shauna’s hands gripped your hips.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked down at her. Your legs still straddled her hips. Your hands were on either side of her head.

Shauna stared at you for a moment, unable to make herself say anything. She shifted her legs slightly, and the sheets rustled. You glanced around probably searching for the time.

“Hey,” Shauna rasped finally. She felt almost exactly the same as the first time she ran into you. She had no idea what to do with any of this. With you.

You looked down at her and swallowed. Your mouth was painfully dry, even though you hadn’t been drunk the night before.

“Hey,” you replied, almost breathlessly. You were painfully aware of Shauna’s hands on your hips. Just as you remembered them. Warm, large. Her thumb still subconsciously stroking beneath the fabric of your shirt.

For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other, searching for the right words. You knew what you should say, but the apology caught in your throat. You opened your mouth. Once. Twice. But no sound came out. Shauna’s brown eyes bore into you, studying you as if the two of you hadn’t been passing each other every day.

“Shauna, I’m sorry, I…” you started, but at that exact moment her lips crashed into yours. She exhaled instantly at the feeling of your mouth on hers. Her breath tangled with yours, her hands tightening on your hips, trying to pull you as close as humanly possible.

You returned the kiss immediately, matching her intensity, not thinking twice about it. Her fingers slid entirely under your shirt, rediscovering your skin, your body, piece by piece. Your hands tangled in her hair, your thighs clenched instinctively around her hips, and a shaky breath escaped your lips.

Even if you had wanted to stop, you wouldn’t have been able to. Shauna was too familiar. So much so that you didn’t care how many girls had been in this bed before you. You were certain she hadn’t touched any of them like this. Not with the kind of breathless hunger that made her hands tremble, unsure where to land because she wanted more.

You only pulled away to remove your shirt, and then your bra. Shauna stared at you with awe, as if she were seeing you for the first time. Her lips, already slightly swollen from kissing, parted as she breathed heavily.

Her hands immediately moved higher. Her fingers traced shapes she knew by heart. You tilted your head back, your hands finding her shoulders as you felt the hard press of her hardening length against your thigh.

You ground against her, pressing your hips tightly to hers, and a moan escaped her throat. Her head fell back onto the pillows, and she shivered slightly, seeking more contact, more of you. You leaned down again, your hips repeating the same motion, grinding on her erection, giving her exactly the kind of stimulation she craved most. Her fingers gripped you harder now, surely leaving marks on your skin as she helped guide your movements on her. Her tip deliciously rutted against your heated core.

Shauna’s nose brushed yours, her lips catching yours in something that could barely be called a kiss, more breath than touch. Both of you were panting now, the room filled with shallow breaths, quiet gasps, moans and whimpers.

Until, until Shauna closed her eyes, arching her hips toward you, and began murmuring under her breath.

“I missed you so much. Fuck, I missed you so much. Baby, you have no idea…”

You covered her jaw and neck in a series of open mouthed, sloppy kisses. The pressure of her body against yours only grew more intense, and you knew neither of you would last much longer. You didn’t even need direct contact, you were both on the edge of finishing in your underwear.

You looked down at Shauna's sweatpants. Damp because of everything that leaked from her tip. You watched her in awe, moving faster and harder, making her moan louder. She was trembling like never before.

"Fuck, fuck..." she panted, eyes rolled in the back of her head. And then, the only warning you got before he creamed her pants and your thighs was -

"I love you, i love you so fucking much."

You didn't respond, only buried head in the crook of her neck, still desperately grinding against her, chasing your own relief. And finally, with a loud moan, her still hot cum sticking to your clothes and biting on her neck, you came hard.

You collapsed onto her, your hips still moving lazily, just enough to avoid overwhelming you both after the orgasm you’d just shared.

And Shauna was certain, she hadn’t felt anything like this in all the weeks spent with other girls. Her fingers dug into the skin of your back. Her lips brushed softly against your forehead as the two of you lay there, breathing heavily.

Silence followed. A silence filled only by the sound of her heartbeat, close to your ear. Your eyes locked on the door to her room, wondering if anyone had heard you. And even if they had, did anyone really care?

A dog howled somewhere in the distance. Warm air drifted into the room through the cracked window.

“You have no idea how much I —” Shauna began softly, but you cut in, clenching your fists into the sheets.

“I want to start over with you. As friends. Maybe… maybe something more, later.”

If you’d been listening closely, you might have heard the way Shauna’s insides twisted painfully at those words.

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: here we are, the meat and potatoes. the fic is really kicking off. . . and they're already flirting?! ellie is so touch and affection starved that she nearly jumps out of her own skin every time you even look at her.)

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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

In that halfway space between waking and sleep it was hard to discern what was real and what wasn’t. Your bed felt warm, sheets still tangled around your arms and legs. The weight of your blanket on your chest could easily be confused with another’s body, and so you felt yourself smile. Warm, happy, safe- 

Abby was behind you, her limbs expertly twisted around yours like she’d done it a thousand times before. . . and she had. 

Slowly you opened your eyes, staring blankly ahead of you into your pitch black bathroom. You recognized the fresh scent of your shampoo, and felt the way your hair still clung to your hot cheeks- wet from your shower the night before. It was like you were suspended in a memory, everything all soft and fuzzy around you. The dots weren’t perfectly connecting, and still you were happy. For a second you just laid there, unable to look down at the hand you could feel so vividly at your waist. Would you see Abby’s knuckles when you looked down? Would you see the rubber promise ring she had insisted on wearing? Everything always had to be even and fair with her. 

This morning felt familiar. Like you’d lived it before. Your breath left you in a rush when the bed creaked behind you. 

“Abby,” God, she was back. She was back and she was right behind you. “Baby?” 

There was a soft groan and then the arm tightened, bringing you into a warm chest. Her bicep squeezed your arm tightly against her shoulder, and all at once you were tucked in so tight. Confusion tugged at your features, and you mulled over exactly why you were clinging to her arm so tightly. 

“What’s wrong?” She whispered against your hair, her voice still thick with sleep. Still, her fingers stroked at your bare stomach. 

“I had a nightmare,” You mumbled, trying to recall exactly what had plagued you just seconds ago. You can’t remember now that you’re safe here. . . safe with Abby again. “You were gone and I was all alone.” 

Those moments came back to you in flashes. The ache, the constant pain of losing her, the “learning to live without her” that crushed you entirely. You turned around in her grasp, nuzzling your nose into the crook of her neck. You took deep inhales, trying to still your rising panic. You could feel the steady beating of her heart against your cheek, the warmth of her bare breasts against your collar bones. 

“I was gone?” She raised a hand, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a few golden strands falling onto her forehead as she moved her head against the pillow beneath her. “You can tell me about it if you want.” She offered supportively, petting your back in slow circles. 

You don’t know why. . .  but you missed those circles. It felt like you’d been without them for weeks. Months. 

“I-I got a phone call. . . and they told me that you’d died,” Your bottom lip quivered, your eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t help but laugh pathetically at your unnecessary hysterics. Abby was right here. Everything was okay. “It felt like the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. It was horrible.” 

“You did so good though.” She whispered, her hands still stroking. 

Your muscles tensed, and slowly you moved your hand up her side, fingers brushing against her skin. You pressed a soft kiss against the underside of her breast, a tear breaking free past your lower lashes. This moment suddenly felt fleeting. 

“I did?” You questioned, pulling away to look at her. 

She was so beautiful. Like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right in your bed. The sun was just beginning to rise, setting the line of trees just outside of your window ablaze. She was diaphanous and golden laying there beneath you. You were so lucky. You could barely breathe when she looked up at you like that, her eyes so thick with pride and love. 

“You did, baby girl. You stayed so strong.” She cracked a small smile, but it looked pained. Like she was also realizing that the two of you couldn’t exist here forever. “I need you to keep it up though, alright?” You couldn’t feel her hand on your back anymore, nor the softness of the sheets. 

“Please,” You sobbed out, reaching out to cup her cheek. She didn’t feel like anything. Like your hand was molded around a pocket of open space. Nothingness. She was about the size of the palm of your hand now, her urn sitting on the mantle in your living room. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

Her blue eyes stared up at you, proud and unwavering in their convictions, as they always were. . . always had been. “I’m never far. Pinky.” Promise. 

And then you were in your bed again, the alarm on your phone blaring. 

“Abby?” You mumbled, and you didn’t have to turn over to realize you were alone. 

Ellie was good at putting pressure on herself. It had always been a form of motivation, as cruel as it seemed. She couldn’t let today be awful. No episodes or meltdowns and no long bouts of silence. You were pretty and it really seemed like you could use a friend. 

Ellie could use a friend too. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown interest in a girl. She’d always been career driven with a one track mind. She was good at overworking herself and running herself dry. She hoped that you’d be able to use that to your benefit today. Ellie wanted to lose herself in something. . . in someone. She wanted to be useful for the first time in what felt like a long, long while.

So she woke up at the butt crack of dawn and took a shower. She kept her eyes shut tight as she washed herself and didn’t even bother to towel dry her hair before she was pulling on an outfit. Thick droplets of water stained the shoulders of her jean button up as she tied up the laces on her boots. She focused on one shoe at a time, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of you. Every once and a while her brain would wander, hellbent on self destruction, but with a small groan she’d remember the sadness in your eyes. 

She’d remember who she was before the accident. 

She moved down the stairs as quietly as she could, praying that Joel’s dog wouldn’t start barking once he realized that his new best friend was leaving the house. The keys to her old car were on the rack beside the front door, right next to Joel’s flashy new pair. He’d told Ellie over dinner that he’d been maintaining the beat up old Jeep the best that he could, meaning she at least had a little bit of freedom while she was back home. 

She locked the door behind her, the cool morning breeze stinging against her wet ears as she gracelessly stumbled down the stairs, juggling the bulky set of keys in her hand. A huge metal spaceship that Joel had stuffed into her Christmas stocking senior year, a neon green carabiner she’d bought at one of the gas stations closest to her school, and a few other childish charms that she couldn’t place any meaning behind swung from the nearly ancient keychain. Her sense of self expression and style back in those days was tacky to say the least, but she appreciated child-Ellie nonetheless. 

“You poor child.” She teased under her breath, climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the key into the ignition. She sucked in a breath and held it before cranking it up. 

To her surprise, the clunker started right up, though the engine shook the steering wheel a little when she put the thing in reverse down the driveway. She hadn’t driven a car since that night at the gas station. It felt a little weird to be behind the wheel, but even stranger to be back here. Jackson was a beautiful place. . . but it didn’t feel the same way that it had before. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her age or the changes that were happening inside of her. The streets still looked the same, aside from some very minor changes to neighbor's houses. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings when Joel had driven her through town yesterday, and she was a bit scared to see the differences. She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts or do any soul searching, so she reached out for the radio, pressing play on whatever CD had been shoved into it last. 

Depeche mode began to blast over the speakers, and she let out a small sigh of relief. At least her music taste wasn’t horrible in high school. 

But it was no wonder she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ellie wouldn’t have dated little Ellie either, that was for sure. 

She felt a bit crazy to be driving in the opposite direction of town. Back when she lived here, town was the only place she was headed when she was allowed out of the house. It was no wonder why the two of you had never really crossed paths. She used to complain about how far off in the “middle of nowhere” Joel lived, but your farm had his ranch beat by fifteen minutes. The houses got fewer and farther in between, and despite how much Ellie truly did enjoy the city, she couldn’t deny how beautiful the countryside was. The sprawling fields, grazing animals, and splattering of wild flowers had her rolling down the windows of her car, ignoring the chill so that she could get a better look of her surroundings. 

Even the air quality was better in Jackson.

She’d been down this road a few times in her life, having been in the backseat of Joel’s car every single time. She recognized your home from her memories, but your last name didn’t mean much to her back then. She slowed her car down to a crawl, staring at the large sign that sported your family name proudly. 

Ellie would be proud of the farm too if it were hers. She bumped down the drive five minutes earlier than you had told her to show up, staring with wide eyes at your house. It was two stories with a balcony- white with green shutters. The wrap around porch was screened in, protecting you and any guests you might have over from bugs that thrive in the summertime heat. 

Your stretch of land belonged on a painting, and for a second she worried if maybe she wasn’t the right friend for you. This house was too nice and Ellie. . . Ellie wasn’t very nice at all. She'd only talked to you for five minutes yesterday, but she got the feeling that you were a "good girl". You were wholesome, which wasn't how anyone in Ellie's life would choose to describe her. She slowly made her way up your front steps, and for a second she wondered if she should leave. It would probably be better if she did. Ellie could always just lie and tell Joel that she couldn’t find your house. . . he’d probably drop it after insulting her about her bad sense of direction. 

Ellie couldn’t afford to get a crush on anyone right now either. It was horrible timing, and what would be worse is if you actually ever returned those feelings. How was she supposed to explain to you that she wouldn’t ever make a good partner? She couldn’t protect you from anything, not when any loud sounds or bright lights had her falling to her knees. She was careerless, depressed to the point where she had completely lost who she was, had a drinking problem, and was quite certain that she’d combust the second you’d touch her. She was touch and attention starved, but hadn’t remembered that she was even able to desire someone until she’d seen you yesterday- 

You’d be dodging a bullet if she hightailed it right off of your property. So she turned on her heel and stared at her boots as she began walking back down your stairs. Her feet kicked up dirt as she made her way back to her jeep, hand already reaching into her pocket for her keys- 

“Did I not hear you knocking on the door?” A feminine voice called out to her. 

She sucked in a breath so hard that she let out a loud cough, eyes widening as she turned around to face the porch. You were wearing a pair of dirt stained jeans today, though your hair was fastened back with a white bow. Ellie, despite her previous need to protect you from herself, couldn’t fight off the urge to get closer. There was something different about you today. You were a bit manic, your hands already busying themselves with straightening out a few of the potted plants on your porch. You seemed a bit anxious, but you didn’t comment on it so neither did Ellie. Any boundaries you had yesterday with her were gone. You flashed her a wide smile, sauntering up the drive so that you could wrap her up in a tight hug. 

Your arms were shaking as they weaved around her neck, pulling her in close. She froze, limbs locking up in surprise as she tried to fully grasp what was going on. You were treating her like an old friend, someone you were excited to see. Ellie didn’t know why you’d be so happy to see her. . . but then again, she was happy to see you. She remembered what Joel had said last night.

Maybe you were sick and tired of being alone. 

Your bare arms were cold too- freezing as her fingers accidentally brushed the backs of them. Ellie realized that she had gotten here just in time. If anything, she cursed herself for not showing up twenty minutes earlier, if only to save you from whatever had you this shaken up. 

“I probably knocked too quietly. Should have knocked louder, huh?” She mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek as she gave you a gentle squeeze. 

She wasn’t used to holding someone like this that wasn’t Dina or Jesse. You felt nice in her arms. Your muscles weren’t hard or rigid like hers, you were all soft and rounded edges. Gentle curves and arms ready and willing to embrace her. Flushed cheeks and silk bows. You smelled wonderful too- sweet and floral, like Jasmine mixed with honey. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t seem ready to end the hug either.

You were still quivering. 

“Yeah, you should have.” You agreed, giving Ellie one last squeeze before taking a few unsteady steps back.

You hadn’t been completely sure whether or not she would show up today. Waking up this early was a lot to ask of anyone, let alone someone you had just met yesterday. Still, a part of you had hoped that she would be here. On days that were this bad you found it impossible to work, no matter how busy it kept you. You often spent “mental health days”  laid out by Abby’s grave or buried six feet under pillows and blankets in what used to be your shared bed.

Ellie’s presence changed things. 

So you squared off your shoulders and cracked her a wide smile, praying that it looked genuine and not forced. 

“Let’s hop in my truck and I’ll take you on a little tour of the property before we get started.” You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the woman take a few steps closer to you.

Ellie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. You weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to handle her prying or the pity that would follow. 

Your fingers twitched at your sides, wishing so deeply that you hadn’t woken up at all this morning. Ellie was beautiful- gorgeous even. You would have been head over heels if you had met her years ago, before. . . well, before Abby happened. Still, her beauty wasn't enough to completely distract you from your grief. A part of you felt guilty for even finding her attractive as you slid into the front seat of the truck. 

Maybe that was why you’d had such a strange dream last night. Or maybe. . . maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it really was Abby trying to tell you that it was okay to move on. That was confusing to even think about, and it made you count the months since her death on both of your hands, trying to gauge if enough time really had passed. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, but the thought of being in love with anyone seemed like an impossibility. Everything was broken. How could you ever love anyone the same way that you loved Abby? You’d just be doing that other person a disservice. 

That’s right, you were cursed. 

You could feel Ellie’s gaze on the side of your face as you made your way down the dirt road, up towards the hen houses. You blinked a few times, the apples of your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Slowly you met her gaze, lips twitching up in a small smile as she quickly looked away from you, nervous over having been caught. 

“My dad built ten large coops, so this whole fenced-in area right here is where the chickens graze.” You stopped the car and put it in park, keeping the old thing running like you usually did during your quick morning chores. Sometimes the poor truck had a hard time starting back up, and you’d probably burst into tears if your newfound friend had to walk a half mile back to the house with you. 

“Do you guys have any problems with foxes?” She asked, keeping up with your fast pace as you unlatched the front of the fence for the both of you. 

Your nose wrinkled in disgust, and you were quick to throw your arms up exasperatedly. 

“Oh god, do we! I had to get someone out here to change out the fence just six months ago because one of those little fuckers had somehow managed to dig it’s way into their area. Killed seven of my poor girls.” You remembered how angry you were when you’d pulled up to the coops that morning. Burying seven dead hens wasn’t a pleasant experience for you, but it wasn’t something that was new. Still, you hated knowing that they’d suffered in their final moments. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” Ellie looked around the area, finding it impossible not to notice how well kept everything was. The coops were freshly painted, the grass was gorgeous and plush- bright green under her feet. Truly, your farm was an oasis. She’d never seen anything quite like it before, and you'd barely even started the tour.

“Can I hold one?” She asked meekly, smiling up at you shyly as you turned to look at her. You didn’t exactly take her as the type of girl that would want to hold a chicken, but you were happy to oblige her. 

“One of my mamas just hatched a few chicks. Would you want to hold-” 

“Yes.” She quickly added, jogging off in the direction that you were pointing, eager to hold anything tiny and fluffy that you had to offer. 

You were shocked at the laugh that bubbled its way out of your chest. A genuine, good natured laugh that you found hard to contain as she began impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for you to catch up. 

“Didn’t take you for a chicken lover, city girl.” You teased, unlatching the door for her so that she could make her way inside. 

The hens squawked excitedly at your appearance, realizing they’d be able to eat their fill of grass, bugs, and dried corn. A few ran over, crowding at your ankles. Rows and rows of nests were lined up along the walls. In the back of the coop were a few small rectangular doors that you could open, which was what you used to harvest eggs. Your dad’s old coops didn’t have anything fancy like that, so you grew up having your hands pecked at. You used to run back home to your mother with blood bruises and angry, raised skin. 

“I love chicks.” Ellie said simply and the double meaning wasn’t lost on you. 

As if on cue one of the chickens began pecking at the woman’s ankles, earning a small hiss of surprise from her. You snorted, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t laugh at her expense. “I can’t say the feeling is mutual, apparently.” You added playfully, looking around for the yellow poof balls. 

“Old news.” She was smiling at you, and something in your chest began doing awful, uncomfortable flips. For a second you even felt a bit nauseous. 

Ellie wasn’t Abby, but there was something similar about the two of them. The short haired girl seemed capable and strong. There was a physical sort of confidence in the way that she walked that told you that she knew how to handle herself. You watched as she shoved her hands in her pockets, shoulders squared off, feet shoulder length apart- and it had your lips parting. 

Still, you remembered Joel talking about his daughter. . . saying that she was military. You couldn’t remember which branch she belonged to, but you could tell that she was well trained. You tried to imagine what Ellie would look like if she was put in a situation where she needed to protect herself, and you found a shiver running up your spine.

There was a coldness that had been in her eyes when the two of you had first met that had chilled you to the bone. You saw none of it when you looked into her eyes now, but. . . still. . . the thought terrified you. Had those capable hands ever killed anyone before? 

You felt horrible even thinking that, even going as far as to give your thigh a small slap in punishment as you bent down, knees digging into the wood shavings and hay. The chicks didn’t seem off put by your small scowl. They saw you and instantly thought “food”, which had them clumsily running in your direction. You hadn’t heard her walk up beside you, only felt the sleeve of her long sleeve shirt brush against your arm as she sat back on her haunches beside you. 

“It won’t scare them if I pick them up, will it?” She asked gently, slowly reaching a hand out so that she could brush it against their plush down feathers. They chirped contentedly, unaware of what “danger” even meant yet. You were guilty of babying your chickens, meaning none of them were scared of humans. They pecked at you when they were annoyed, but were never violent per say. 

“Not at all. They might seem a bit unhappy, but it’s only because they’re hungry.” 

You pressed your hand to your cheek as you watched the woman pick one of the chicks up, holding the tiny thing tightly against her chest so as to not drop it. There was something almost comical about seeing the woman look this gentle, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried not to hurt the tiny thing. It was adorable. Which was terrifying for you. 

You were once again reminded of your dream. . . and you didn’t think you were ready to let Abby go. Not even when Ellie looked up at you excitedly, using her free hand to gesture towards the small creature in disbelief. Almost like she was scared that even talking would frighten it. 

“So what do we do now?” Ellie asked, putting the chick down so that she could stand back up. You followed her lead, making your way back over towards the door. 

“We open up all the doors and let them walk around for the day. I usually come back and get them back in their coops by sundown.” You let her know, leaving the door wide open as you moved coop to coop. 

Ellie helped you, cutting down the time in half. The two of you were back in the truck in record time. You showed her the fields where you planted corn in the late summer to get ready for early fall. You pointed out the small flower garden you had taken upon yourself to cultivate, and then you pulled up to the green houses. Her jaw went slack as she took in all of the buildings. 

“You do all of this yourself?” She needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Sure, she was no farmer, but even someone like her knew just how much work this must be for you. 

She couldn’t imagine you doing this all day, every day all by yourself. It kinda made her chest ache a bit for you. So when you nodded she took it upon herself to climb out of the truck, eager to do something to lighten the burden for you. 

As the two of you approached what appeared to be the oldest of the greenhouses, she couldn’t help but realize that she’d been with you for about an hour. . . and she felt great. Better than great, she felt normal. She had been sent out here so that she could recover, and while she didn’t quite understand what that really and truly meant, being here with you felt right. Being around the animals felt therapeutic, and while Joel might have told you a little bit about her in passing, you didn’t know enough about Ellie to pass any sort of judgment or feel any sort of pity. 

Even so, Ellie wasn’t sure she’d be against telling you about what happened. Something told her that you would be understanding. You knew what it felt like to lose people, and she was sure that you had regrets somewhere along the line. Everyone does when it comes to losing loved ones. 

She hated that you had suffered enough to understand where she was coming from, but loved that she wasn’t alone for once. 

The two of you walked in silence, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that let her know that you were thinking about something serious and sad. Ellie wondered whether your father was on your mind this morning. . . or perhaps your girlfriend. It wasn’t her place to ask, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. 

“Want to help me water them?” You finally asked, motioning towards the tables of plants. 

She nodded, but quickly turned to face you. She couldn’t count how many green houses you had on top of this one. 

“Do we water all of those plants too?” She felt stupid the second that she asked the question, but even more so when you began to giggle. 

Sounding stupid was worth it to hear the sound, so she sucked it up. 

“Those green houses are newer and have a built in sprinkler system. We just have to worry about this one, thankfully. We’d be here all afternoon if not.” You began to head in the direction of the hose so that you could turn it on, your stomach tightening with hunger. 

You knew the second you got back to the house and made breakfast that you’d be nauseous though. Bad days like this were always the same. You were hungry but you couldn’t eat. You wanted to distract yourself but nothing would work. You wanted to talk to someone but didn’t have any friends that you trusted enough to actually. . . onload on, and you were sick of your mom crying on your behalf. 

“So you’re staying with Joel now? For how long?” You decided to make small talk as you handed her the hose, walking along with her as she painstakingly paid attention to every sprout. 

She licked her lips before answering you, eyes flickering in a way that made you think that she might feel a bit nervous. 

“I was. . . sent here. It’s not like I don’t love being home, because I kinda do. It’s just not something that I exactly chose for myself.” That didn’t feel like the whole truth, but you supposed that she would tell you whenever she was ready. 

You played with the raw hem of your old t-shirt, suddenly anxious that you might have put her in a bad spot. Still, you found yourself wanting to know more about her. 

“Do you have an addiction problem?” You realized how inappropriate it was to be so blunt. Your mouth went bone dry with panic, and you were quick to grab her hand, shaking your head. “A-All I’m trying to say is that my uncle had a really bad drug problem for years. He’s been clean and sober since last Christmas and is doing great. I don’t judge, that’s all. I’m proud of you, if anything.” 

She gulped, looking down at your hand and noticing how close your body was to hers now. She fumbled to turn the hose off with one hand, trying to get her breathing under control. It was twice now that you were touching her like this, and she hated herself for wanting to wrap you back up in a hug so bad. She was also trying not to notice how plush and kissable your lips were.

You smelled great too, which made it hard for Ellie to think. 

“Yeah, I guess I have a bit of an addiction problem,” She mumbled, but shrugged her shoulders soon after, contradicting herself. “But that’s not really why I’m here.” 

Ellie would have to tell you eventually, she supposed. If the two of you were going to be as good of friends as Joel wanted, then she’d have to fess up eventually. It was better to get it out and in the open now rather than later. Plus. . . if she had some sort of a breakdown then maybe you’d be more understanding if you knew why it was happening. 

“My therapist tells me that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Marines and I had a really bad accident. So. . . it was hard for me to live alone.” Ellie stared down at a long-dead leaf on the ground and bent down to pick it up, gently playing with it’s crinkled edges. 

“Did you have panic attacks? I have those sometimes too.” You wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone, as stupid as it might sound. 

You wanted to relate to her without telling her that your girlfriend had also been a Marine. She was being vulnerable with you, and the last thing you wanted to do was make this moment about you by bringing up your deceased girlfriend.

“Yeah. . . Yeah, I have those a lot. Sometimes I lose track of time- disassociate. It’s scary for others to deal with, so my friends thought that it would be best if I were with Joel. There’s less triggers here than back in Chicago.” You could tell that she was still uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she was powering through. 

Ellie appreciated that there wasn’t a hint of judgment in your tone. You genuinely seemed curious. . . and talking about herself like this felt good. Validating, even. 

“What triggers you? I just want to make sure that I don’t overstep or accidentally do anything wrong-” 

“No, no. You’re fine. It’s more so loud noises and bright lights.” 

“So no gunshots?” 

“Guns aren’t too bad. . . it’s more so car crashes. Explosions, you know?” 

Your mouth went dry. You did know. It’s how Abby died, afterall. You hated that Ellie had gone through something similar. Your heart ached for her. 

“Is that how you got this. . . ?” You began to brush your fingers against the scar over her eye. You froze as she flinched, guilt bottoming out your stomach as you quickly yanked your hand away.

She reached out to take your elbow into her calloused hand before you could drop your palm back down at your side, and pressed your fingers against the skin herself. Her skin was still soft, but raised and jagged. You’d never felt a scar this deep before. Still, it was warm under your touch. Alive. 

The moment felt oddly intimate, and you kept your fingers there for a few seconds too long before dropping your hand back at your side. Ellie felt like she was going to explode. No one had ever wanted to touch her scar, let alone been allowed to. 

“Yeah, It is.” She cleared her throat, grabbing one of her arms in her hands nervously. She was starting to realize that she didn’t mind being seen by you. “I’m legally blind in the eye now, which has been pretty hard to get used to.” 

“So you can’t see at all out of it?” You questioned, beginning to walk back over towards the repotting station. You’d noticed a few sprouts that were getting a little too big for their pots, and the last thing you wanted was crowded roots. 

She followed after you like a lost puppy, hot on your trail. “I can see shapes and colors. Movement, and everything. But if you held up your hand and asked me “how many fingers am I holding up”, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” She’d practically had to relearn how to do everything again, as dramatic as that sounded. Losing the vision of one eye affected a lot more than one might think. 

“Oh, shit.” You remarked, nose wrinkling up in sympathy. You couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been on top of dealing with the mental anguish of the accident. 

“ ‘Oh, shit’ is right.” She agreed with a small smile, leaning her hip against the table as you began laying out the necessary supplies. She watched your hands as they moved expertly around the table, eyes locked on your fingers. “I used to be beautiful.” She joked absentmindedly, alluding to the scar that now marred her features. 

“You’re still beautiful.” You said, fully concentrated on the task at hand. 

You didn’t realize the weight that your words carried, nor Ellie’s reaction to them. She felt like a giddy teenager. She couldn’t stop herself from fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. She was smitten.

You were the first person to treat her like an actual human being since the incident. This was the most alive she’d felt in almost a year. . . and she was talking about things. Not like she might talk to her therapist, it was different than that. She was talking to someone that wanted to get to know her, not just to diagnose her, but to understand her. It felt good. Really good. Sickeningly good. 

And you thought she was beautiful. 

“Do you want to help me repot these little guys?” You asked, motioning towards the tiny pots. 

She was scared of killing your seedlings but nodded anyway, desperate for your approval. Ellie watched as you demonstrated the entire thing for her, praying to god she wouldn’t forget a step. 

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, shaking out roots and gently tucking the plants into their new homes. It was calming- melodic, almost. The constant motion, the gentle noises of the wilderness all around you. Ellie could even feel herself getting good at it. Not as good as you, of course. . . but she wasn’t as bad as she thought she would be. 

You watched as she rolled her sleeves up and over her forearms, taking a second to appreciate her hands. Once again, you felt guilty for being so attracted to her. Strands of auburn hair had fallen out from behind her ear and hung in her pale face as she focused on her task. Her strong hands worked methodically. Her veins, her knuckles, her forearms and biceps- Ellie wasn’t just beautiful but gorgeous. 

‘Give me a sign, Abby. If I’m not reading too far into last night's dream. . . then just give me some sort of a sign.’ You thought to yourself, eyebrows furrowing as you packed more dirt around the seedling in your hand. You felt like you were being horrifically dramatic, but what else could you do?

You felt idiotic. Delusional, even.

Beside you Ellie continued to work, completely unaware of your building turmoil. Pot after pot, she was really getting the hang of it. Pack down a layer of dirt, shake out roots, pack dirt on top- repeat.

She  reached out for another one of the black plastic pots, sliding it over in front of her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the rattling. She’d been so close to covering up whatever was at the bottom with dirt, but the sunlight caught whatever it was just right.

It sparkled. 

Ellie pinched the object between two dirt coated fingers, her eyebrows practically raising up to her hairline as she realized that it was a ring. A valuable looking one, at that. 

“Uh. . . is this yours?” Ellie asked, showing it to you. 

You blinked a few times at the ring, scared for a moment that you were hallucinating, because things like this only happened in movies. People asking for signs from the other side only for a ghostly apparition to pop up on screen.

Still, that was your promise ring in Ellie’s hand. 

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes filling up with tears before you could even stop them. You reached out with gentle fingers, taking it into your hand graciously. 

“Thank you.” 

And you weren’t sure if you were talking to Ellie. . . or Abby.

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[bradleysass]

gaze - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 878

It wasn’t unusual for James to call. It wasn’t unusual for James to call too much. But tonight—tonight was something else.

Regulus stepped out of the shower, toweling his hair dry, and stared at his phone screen. 20 missed calls.

19 from James.

1 from Sirius.

A message from Sirius waiting at the bottom:

"Reggie look at this puppy dog gaze at his phone waiting for you to answer."

Attached: a photo of James, sprawled on Sirius’s couch, cheeks flushed, holding his phone with both hands and staring at the screen like it held the answers to the universe.

Regulus sighed. And pressed play.

Voicemail 1: "Reg? REGULUS. Oh, it’s the beep already. Okay. So. Pick up."

Voicemail 2: "You’re not picking up. Okay. But. I just wanna say… I saw a cat that looked like you? Not, like, in a bad way. It was regal. And pretty. And aloof. Anyway. Call me."

Voicemail 3: "REGULUS. Regulus. Reggie. Black. Mister Black. You remember when you used to make me tea after Quidditch practice? You made it too strong on purpose. I know you did. I forgave you. Call me back."

Voicemail 4: "Okay, but, like. Seriously. Why didn’t we work? I mean, we did work. We worked so well! Like, so well. Everyone said so. Except maybe Sirius. But he doesn’t count. Or he does. I dunno. Call me."

Voicemail 5: "I’m not calling to get back together. Promise. PROMISE. Just… like. I need to hear your voice? Is that bad? That’s bad. I’m sorry. Ignore this. Unless you wanna call me back."

Voicemail 6: "Reggie. Sirius said I’m cut off but I snuck another Firewhisky. Don’t be mad. Are you mad? I miss your mad face. It was cute. Like when your nose does the thing. You know the thing. Ugh. Call me."

Voicemail 7: "You ever think about that holiday? That one in Greece? With the scooter? And you screamed the whole time because I couldn’t drive? I still have the helmet. It smells like your shampoo. I’m not weird, I swear."

Voicemail 8: "Regulus. REGULUS. I had a dream last week. You were in it. But you were a swan. And you bit me. What does that mean? Please respond."

Voicemail 9: "Did you know Lily still asks about you? She’s like, ‘How’s Reggie?’ and I’m like, ‘He’s fine, probably.’ But are you fine? Are you really fine? Because if you’re not I can be there in like, five minutes. Maybe ten. Definitely less than fifteen."

Voicemail 10: "I just wanna say… I’m proud of you. You’re doing so good. Even if you think you’re not. I see it. You’re so strong. And smart. And pretty. Like, stupid pretty. Sorry. Okay. Next voicemail will be more normal."

Voicemail 11: "...okay this one isn’t normal. I lied. BUT. Do you remember when you first let me sleep over at your flat? And you were all nervous but pretended you weren’t? And you gave me that pillow? I still have it. It’s the comfiest pillow. Like. Ever."

Voicemail 12: "I know we said we wouldn’t call each other when we’re drinking. But technically I didn’t promise. So I think it doesn’t count? Right? Right? Anyway. Hi."

Voicemail 13: "If you could be any fruit what would you be? Sirius says you’d be a pomegranate because you’re mysterious and hard to open. I think you’re more like a peach. Soft. Sweet. Little fuzzy. Heh. Okay. Call me back."

Voicemail 14: "Regulus Black. You beautiful, brilliant disaster. I hope you’re happy. You deserve happy. Even if it’s not with me. But also like. Maybe it could still be with me? Someday? Don’t answer that. Actually answer it. Or don’t. Fuck. I dunno."

Voicemail 15: "Sirius is yelling at me to stop calling you. I told him no. He threw a pillow at me. It missed. He’s bad at aiming. Haha. I won. Call me back."

Voicemail 16: "You know what? I’m glad we’re friends. I really am. You’re my best friend. You always will be. I just… sometimes I forget we’re not more. And then it hits me like a bludger to the face. But I’m okay. Just wanted you to know."

Voicemail 17: "Do you remember that song we used to dance to? It came on tonight. I almost called you right then but Sirius stole my phone. Rude. But now I got it back. And I’m calling you. Obviously. Call me back, Reggie."

Voicemail 18: "Reggie I think I’m gonna regret these voicemails tomorrow. But also not. Because they’re honest. And I mean every word. You’re amazing. And I love you. Not like… like. But also like. You know? Yeah. You know."

Voicemail 19: "Last one. I promise. Unless it’s not. But it is. I’m gonna stop now. I’m gonna go to sleep. Sirius says he’ll throw water on me if I don’t. Goodnight, Regulus. Sweet dreams. Love you."

Regulus stared at his phone. He didn’t hit call right away. But he smiled.

Then he opened the message thread, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

"Tell him I’ll call him tomorrow. And that I’m glad he still has the pillow."

And with that, Regulus set the phone down. And for the first time in weeks, slept soundly.

[booliuu]

┊͙Proxies headcanons pt.1┊͙

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : heeeey guys it’s liu!! it’s been awhile since i last posted ( …well i think?) 😣😣 i literally can’t remember anything . this isn’t requested but i’ve these headcanons stuck in my drafts for quite some time now and i figured i’ll post them now :DD !! possibly a part 2?

• my inbox is open for asks & requests!! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog❤️. enjoy reading!

Tim (masky):

🚬. . he’s pushing through his late 30’s at best.

🚬. . 5’11.

🚬. . a firm believer he’s a taurus.

🚬. . has native american roots.

🚬. . personality wise .. he’s a bit of a prick and an asshole just to give it to you straight . he will butt heads , he will command orders because technically speaking he’s the leader without saying much, basically has a strict & rough exterior . but with the shit he’s been through.. i don’t blame him. it would be a while once he likes & trusts you….but you’ll know. very few ppl get that side of him.

🚬. . dog person!! wants a dog sooo bad he knows he can’t take care of it unless someone wants to take care it while he’s away from the cabin. he’s ( and everybody else tbh..) out sometimes days or more so he ain’t risking it.

🚬. . whenever he sees stray dogs in the woods doesn’t matter what kind of dog man… he’ll pet it . if he has food in hand will give some to em’.

🚬. . if he keeps seeing the same dog(s) everyday when he’s walking around the woods , will give them a name for sure.

🚬. . definitely has HUNDREDS of pairs of bottom up plaid shirts. in hangers. in one small closet. Not just red like he wears all the time in mh. owns at least yellow , blue , black plaid shirts . rarely ever uses them though lol.

🚬. . smokes like a chimney holy crap. especially whenever he’s uncomfortable or stressed , at least smoke half a packet .. just an excuse not to talk about it.

🚬. . smells like the woods, cigarettes, or cheap shampoo and conditioner. (like old spice, irish spring , ect…)

🚬. . likes his coffee plain black. no questions asked. won’t add any creamer or sugar. just likes it the way it is.

🚬. . he’s probably rlly good at cooking like will cook up some good old eggs, beacon and sausage if he feels like it.

🚬. . snores like SO LOUD OH MY GOODNESS. second would be toby. holy moly. god forbid if there in the same room or your stuck sitting in the same car as them , you ain’t getting a wink of shut eye :( .

🚬. . coughs , coughs, … COUGHS especially whenever he’s running. it’s impossible for him to stay quiet bc of his smoking habits . has to take a break for a bit , lean against a tree and cough his lungs out.. then starts running again.

🚬. . i’ll die on this hill BUT IM SURE he does the old man groan whenever he’s bending down for too long. or putting a hand on his back , bend back a bit and groan hella loud .

🚬. . old man eye squint whenever he reads. for example reading something on his phone and has to reallyyy squint and puts that phone away from his face. YKWIM😭😭??

🚬. . acts like he hates toby but in reality cares so much for him. just can’t bring himself to say it to him bc he’s so stubborn . likes kate because she listens to him without complaining during missions, and gets the job done . same with brian. and TOBY GETS SO M A D .

🚬. . dad BOD. C’MON YALL. and not to mention sideburns.

🚬. .listens to divorce dad music that he’s plays all the time in his car.

🚬. . his natural body temp is so WARM. he’s like a human heater.

🚬. . knows so much dad jokes it’s borderline concerning🥹🥹. but hey… at least it never fails to make someone smile or laugh though.

🚬. . has a mf’ing lighter collection because he keeps losing them . has stacks of cigarettes hidden somewhere around the room that he shares with brian.

🚬. . i just wanna get this out of the way but definitely the type to txt’s like a dad😭😭. you can’t tell me otherwise. i’m talking “👍.” , “ Ok.” “ 8:30 pm ETA.”

Brian (hoody):

💊. . same age as tim just a biiit🤏 older.

💊. . couple inches tall than tim and whenever ppl point out it out, it rails up tim so much.

💊. . HE has to be A LIBRA. DO YOU GUYS SEE MY VISION. PLS.

💊. . smells like gun powder , the woods ofc , cheap shampoo and conditioner, may i also add cheap cologne.

💊. . i have a feeling he grew up with A LOT of sisters in his family . so when he was born everybody was relieved lowkey lol but won’t say anything , just like a sigh of relief yk?

💊. . white af. idk what to tell you😭. you guys give me ideas .

💊. . txt’s ppl about the same as tim. worse though bc he tends to ignore them unless it’s the other proxies . doesn’t mean he’s dry af though.

💊. . owns so MANY hoodies. but just chooses to just wear the yellow one all the time.

💊. . has a tooth gap…! we can’t forget about that!

💊. . he’s a chill guy but prefers to stay quiet and listen kinda type. especially when he’s working .. yeeeah he ain’t speaking. just gets the job done and leaves.

💊. . knows how to fish. catches em’ and cooks em’. don’t ask why he just gives me the vibe yk?

💊. . aside from that, he can’t cook for shit so he makes tim do it. prefers tim’s cooking anyway-

💊. . has a guns & bullets collection of different kinds in his closet . and a couple of lighters laying around tim & his room. or whenever he’s out and tim forgets his, he got em.

💊. . has the PRETTIEST SMILES AND LAUGH TELL ME IM WRONG. also his laugh is pretty contagious lol. snorts and giggles. can get other ppl to laugh without even knowing what he’s talking about.

💊. . natural charmer ✨knows how to flirt without even trying and (or) thinking. knows how to twist ppl little brains and turn it into mush.

💊. . likes his coffee black as well.

💊. . quietest sleeper known to mankind. couple of times tim, toby or kate though he was dead.

💊. . like arms and hands at his sides and he’s just… y’know just laying there.

Tim: * getting really nervous bc brian isn’t moving nor making a single sound & decides to slap his arm to wake him up * “ you know you sleep like a dead soilder..?!!”

Brian: * jointing awake suddenly by tim* “huh?? “

Toby:

➯ in my au, tim, brian , toby and kate all stay in one cabin. it’s a bit crapped but they all make it work out at the end of the day.

➯ anyway…….*sighs dreamily * my boyyyy😫😫💗💗💗💗!!! he’s BEEN rattling in my brain 24/7 but tbh who don’t think bout this cutie patooie all the time living rent free in my head wthhh. 😭😭😭🥹🥹 i can talk about this silly goober all day if i could bro. okok anyways -

🪓. . i wrote a few toby headcanons here b4 :]] ( 1# link & 2# link check em’ out!! ) ima add some more headcanons to the list. you can’t stop me >:DD!!!

🪓. . there’s 3 rooms total in the cabin and the last room is toby’s . the other rooms belongs to kate , tim & brain .

🪓. .plays “his” playlist on his speakers that ofc he stolen full volume . owns some video games and consoles such as a switch & ds . has a mini fridge hidden in his room bc he’s tired of ppl stealing his crap.

🪓. . bisexual. leeeans strooongly💪💪 towards women..!! personality over looks!! man does not care. but that doesn’t stop him from thinking men are handsome and cute!! if your asking me though, it’ll take awhile for him to date a guy let alone trust bc his lore .. his father yk?

🪓. . he likes hanging out on top of lamp posts at the side of the roads or chillin on the highest branch in the trees because those are the only places that are quiet for him and away from ppl.

🪓. . can’t decide if he’s dog or cat person. HE’S SUCH A HUGE ANIMAL LOVER AND WILL HONESTLY PET EVERY SINGLE ANIMAL IF HE COULD.

🪓. . he’s definitely the kinda person to order coffee that has MILLIONS of different creamer , syrups & toppings . can’t stand the bitter taste of coffee lol.

🪓. . speaking of coffee, since he’s around tim and brian all the time, he developed a burning hatred for black coffee😭. doesn’t understand why tim and brian love it so much.

🪓. . he rarely goes out in public places because he gets overwhelmed easily but in the rare occasions he does , can’t stand when men yell at women. like really detest it. has the urge to protect the them even though he doesn’t know the person. doesn’t do anything but just watches from afar. but that doesn’t stop of thinking violent thoughts what he wants to do to that guy.

➯ if it’s really brother him though , will perhaps pay the guy a quick visit.. if you catch my drift..🪓🪓.

🪓. . it brings him flashbacks of when his dad yells at his sister and mother.

🪓. . gets high because it calms down his tics. or whenever he’s feeling stressed, upset he’ll smoke.

🪓. . he remembers some what of his past. but it’s very very very little. remembers his mother and sister but it’s very distorted. remembers everything but there faces. when someone says his mothers and sister names he confused why he feels like he knows them but at the same time doesn’t . poor baby:(

🪓. . haunted by his bullies and his fathers voices tormenting him in his dreams. he’s confused by them and thinks the operator is playing tricks on him.

🪓. . he’s not a bad driver. like i said before he doesn’t remember his past. pretty much knows the rules of the road and practiced safe driving etiquette.

🪓. . since he’s older, his tics aren’t as bad. doesn’t mean they fully goes away. nope. doesn’t work like that. it’s a part of him and will always will be.

🪓. . the way i think it’s more like it has it’s moments.. you feel me chat? such as whenever he’s feeling anxious , angry or stressed. he slurs his words, talks faster or repeats the same words or sentences, muscle twitches … and so forth.

🪓. . can’t stand the smell or taste of alcohol but .. if someone gave him one , he will drink it just because he doesn’t want to be called out a wuss.

🪓. . oh my gosh when he txt’s he either doesn’t respond, forgets you send something, or SPAMS THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR PHONE accidentally breaking it 😭. adds millions of emojis . sends links to insta reels or tiktok’s that he thinks you’ll laugh at .

you: sending toby a tiktok* 10:45 pm *read 10:50 pm.

toby: *UUSSS!! * 6:30 am😭. toby oh my god

.. also toby: * sends you the most cryptic terrifying insta reel you ever seen* that’s you 😝😝😝🫵.

you: YOU PMOOOO‼️‼️🖕🖕🖕

🪓. . i can talk about this man forever. 🫶🏼

Kate:

➯ KATE MY BELOVED!!!! i love her so much💗. she so underrated plsss she needs more love and attention 😭😭😣 guys lemme talk about myyy girl rq.

🖤. . she’s the youngest out of the proxies. she around her late teens or early 20’s. she’s a cancer!! ( june 25th!!)

🖤. . tall af, she either standing at something between 5’10 or inching closer to 6’0.

🖤. . Korean!!! or has asian roots.

🖤. . definitely has her ears pierced and lips done .🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

🖤. . cooks the crew sometimes what she remembers eating before shit went down hill. and they love it every time.

🖤. . tea person! loves black or earl gray. she has a bit of a sweet tooth so she’ll add some honey, creamer & milk and syrups .^^

🖤. . owns really GOOD smelling shampoo and conditioner 😭😭. and to add with that, her hair is super long and grows out super fast so she’s constantly cutting it. its so uneven helppp

🖤. . she’s naturally very awkward and quiet. lowkey giving black cat energy.

🖤. . like brian she’s also the type of person to listen to you yap about anything than talk.

🖤. . txt’s like she doesn’t care. sooo nonchalant help 😭😭. perhaps worse than brian🤔🤔🤫. ONE WORD RESPONSE EACH TIME. WITHOUT OF DOUBT.

🖤. . closeted lesbian. doesn’t have time to date or fall in love because she’s busy with her “job” ifykyk. prob only work out if your a proxy as well. can’t risk anyone else getting hurt bc of her or the operator. she lost enough :( .

🖤. . this could just be me but ima just say back during her high school years she join her schools track and field club. and literally always get the best times. best runner at her school.

🖤. . dis GIRLLL… can run SO MANY laps and she never gets tired holy crap. runs faster than the other proxies , second would be toby lol. when they have free time, they consistently race each other around the woods and would make tim or brian set up a timer to see who gets the best time.

🖤. . i don’t CAARRE what anyone says but, her and toby have a sibling👏dynamic going on. so competitive with each other!! it’s very precious. they always lookout for each other during missions. even when there not working , they argue like siblings, say some shitty stuff to each other but at the end of the day they care about each other in there own way.

➯ this a bit off topic but yk how toby lost his sister at a young age. messed him up quite a bit because Lyra was the only person aside from his mom that was truly kind to him. after burning his neighborhood, he doesn’t really have anybody else. and was taken by slender right after that.

➯ kate one day casually said that toby reminds her of a sibling,toby was taken back and need a few seconds to relies that she’s being serious. he cried a bit when he heard that from her because he never thought he would ever be a good brother bc he wasn’t there for his sister at that time. :(

➯ long story short they hugged each other that day. sworn kate he will protect her knowing full well she can defend herself. he doesn’t want to repeat his trauma. will break him even more if he lost another sibling because of his actions.

🖤. . about the same as brian, she sleeps like she’s dead. creeps everyone the heck out.

🖤. . cat person!! has a pocket full of treats for the cats that she’s sees in a everyday basis. 🖤🖤

🖤. . if she’s not wearing her white hoodie and black jeans she’s going to pull up with some street wear aesthetic..!!!

🖤. . the white hoodie she wears all the time … yeah she forgets to wash it ☹️ all the time. same with her mask. forgets to clean it.

🖤. . some angst bc why not…misses Lauren so much. after she died, she kept her journal and rereads everything so she could never forget about her.

🖤. . visit her grave once in a while to give her flowers and just trying to remember memories of her.

🖤. . doesn’t like the operator at all. hates it. with every fiber in her being , hates that she now “works” for it now. i don’t blame her though, i mean her whole entire family was haunted & tormented by this thing for ages.

🖤. . ending this in a good note^^ , buuut every night her and toby without a doubt (sometimes tim and brian if there up for it ) have a game night.

🖤. . meaning getting to play with toby’s consoles while there both sitting on the couch and focus very intensely at the t.v in the living room. button smashing and everything . playing until god knows how long.

🖤. . screaming yelling and cursing each other in there own languages.

🖤. . playing board games or cards like uno while sitting together on dinner table and secretly everyone is plotting to piss off toby and works every single time.

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : i hope you like these headcanons 😭😭 im sorry it’s SOOO long i literally i didn’t see that coming until i posted it . i’ll try to be consistent with posting but no promises >< bc tbh i only post if i have the energy too or literally the brain rot is that bad. anywaysss liu out!

should i continue these hc’s & make a pt 2? 🧐

if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog❤️.

liuuboo2025 ♡ﾟthx for reading! love y’all!

[beenbaanbuun]

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Key:

f - fluff, m - mature, s - smut, a - angst

Opposites Attract

Texts

All Members

falling asleep waiting for them (f)

soft cuddles (f)

first kiss (f)

dates (f)

virgin (s)

wake up (s)

tropes (f)

ass, tits or thighs (m, s)

aftercare (m, f)

lord huron (f)

Multiple members

no because w/ poly!matz (s)

in the studio w/ poly!matz (s)

late w/ poly!seongsang (m)

best girl w/ poly!yungi (s)

pipsqueak w/ poly!yungi (s)

punishment w/ poly!woosan (s)

air freshener w/ poly!woosan (m)

fruit w/ poly!woosan (s)

Park Seonghwa

messy room (f)

mean dom (s)

Kim Hongjoong

non sexual dominance (f)

obsession (yandere)

fox (s)

Jeong Yunho

toys (m)

silly thoughts (a, f)

fingers (s)

after sex (m)

first time (s)

inhaler (f)

nudes (m)

spiderman (f)

birthday present (s)

collaring (m)

brothers best friend (1) (2) (s)

Kang Yeosang

boyfriend headcannons (f)

hard thoughts (s)

dumbification (s)

jealous (m)

tutor (m)

guard dog (m)

comfort human (a, f)

Choi San

first christmas (f)

stretch marks (f)

misunderstandings (m)

dumb (s)

cold (f)

cockwarming (m)

air freshener (m)

periods (f)

cub (f)

Song Mingi

sweatpants (f)

face sitting (s)

emo (s)

meet me in the woods (f)

top hat and cane (s)

studio (s)

pink (f)

priest (s)

insecure (a, f)

pussy drunk (s)

mothers (a, f)

country boy (f)

too sweet (f)

soppy (f)

worship (m)

fight (a, f)

brainless (f, m)

Jung Wooyoung

mean yet soft (s)

distractions (f)

eight (s)

club (a, f)

enemies (s)

kitty (m)

shampoo (f)

mug (a, f)

Choi Jongho

warm touches (s)

christmas (s)

bad day (f, a)

periods (f)

cockwarming (s)

hoodie (m)

fidget (f)

crying (f)

glasses (f)

stress (s)

the bed (f)

chevrolet (s)

riding (s)

proposal (f)

the dollhouse (f)

the show (f)

[johanneequestrian]

At JohanneEquestrian.com, we bring you a fantastic collection of best dog shampoo that mix nature and technology for your furry friend’s well-being. Dive into our world of canine care, where love for horses extends to our beloved dogs.

[kitkatscabinet]

The definitive and CORRECT hygiene and skin care headcanons for the 141, courtesy of me and @perfinn

JOHN PRICE

2 in 1 Shampoo and a bar of soap for his body, uses the soap on his face too 💔. It’s a miracle that his skin is as good as it is.

Looks after his beard more than his skin has somewhat of a routine and it’s so soft, more so than any of the other hair on his body.

Though when he moves in with his partner he’ll use their products, starts to moisturise with the nice smelling creams. At first because you’re so aghast with him but comes to enjoy it on his own.

Constantly smells like cigar smoke either way until you gift him with some nice deodorant and cologne that helps to cover the scent.

KYLE GARRICK

The ONLY one with some sort of skin care routine but it’s still fairly simple.

Has a face wash that he uses in the shower and then moisturises when he gets out. Has separate shampoos, conditioners and body washes that always make him smell like a mosh mash of scents that don’t necessarily match.

Buys whatever is on sale, has no brand loyalty.

Has a loofah/face towel

Gets more into skincare if his partner has a routine. Will do little spa days and such with you. He already had perfect skin somehow but now he literally glows.

SIMON RILEY

Atrocious. 3 in 1 everywhere. Hair and skin and just scrubs with his hands and the water.

It’s not that he’s unclean or has poor hygiene, he does actually wash himself very well but just doesn’t use the products he should.

It’s a vicious cycle as he argues the mask hides his face and therefore acne, but it’s made even worse by his routine and the mask perpetually irritating his skin.

It takes a partner getting him to a dermatologist and spoiling him with all sorts of lotions and moisturizers for him to start looking after himself.

Starts to look forward to when you shower together because you’ll lather his hair in shampoo and gently cleanse his face in nice-smelling products that soothe his skin.

JOHN MACTAVISH

Absolute fucking menace. 18 in 1 and scrubs like a madman until his skin is raw

wants to be in and out as quickly as possible. he does clean himself well enough it's just that he's so perpetually sweaty and sprays himself in deodorant that he smells like a teenage boy.

comes home from deployment and is so horny and desperate to fuck but he just smells so bad :((

you have to take him to a rubber tub out back and spray him down like a dog using all your nice-smelling products. You also have to let him mouth at your chest to pacify him as you scrub his scalp.

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

Here are a few silly headcanons that could totally happen between you and Billy:

(Billy's fan... are yall still alive?)

🖤 1. Billy is a stray cat... but also a loyal dog

Billy has moments just like a cat—hiding, watching you from above, quietly sneaking into your room and leaving strange things like a wild crow. But there are also moments when he is like a puppy—trailing behind you, seeking attention, and even growling if anyone else gets too close to you. You swear that once Billy even tried to imitate a bark, but it sounded so distorted it was terrifying.

🎶 2. Billy doesn't know how to listen to music properly

When you try to give him the headphones, Billy just opens his mouth and clamps them between his teeth, chewing them awkwardly. When you explain again, he tries to stuff both earphones into the same ear.

When you finally gave the correct instructions, Billy sat still listening to the music, his eyes wide with contemplation as if he were receiving information from an alien civilization.

Then, he turned to you and asked very seriously, "Bunny, can Billy eat this song?"

🍕 3. Billy doesn't understand how to eat "normal" food.

Living in the attic for too long has left Billy with no concept of human eating habits.

If you give him a pizza, he will bite the box too. Give him a glass of water? He gulped as if it were a live prey.

One time, you handed Billy a banana, and instead of peeling it, he bit into the whole thing and immediately spat it out with a disgusted look on his face.

But if it's food made by you? Billy would try to eat it no matter what it was—maybe even a whole raw onion. Because you offered it, Billy will eat it without question.

🎭 4. Billy doesn't understand the line between "joke" and "threat"

You once joked that someone in the girls' club was "someone you didn't like much." Big mistake. Billy listened and then disappeared for a few hours.

When you frantically search, he appears from the shadows with a radiant smile and asks, "Does Bunny want Billy to 'take care' of her? Billy can make her disappear!"

You had to spend an hour explaining that "not liking" doesn't mean "wanting them to disappear forever." Billy seemed disappointed, but then cheerfully said, "Alright! But Bunny just needs to say the word, and Billy will do it right away!"

💡 5. Billy thinks his landline phone is a mysterious object.

Billy doesn't trust mobile phones. He said it "smelled weird" and refused to touch it.

But his old-fashioned landline? "It knows everything." Billy believes that his phone has its own will and can "call" you without dialing a number.

When you explain that it doesn't work that way, Billy just tilts his head and mocks you: "Bunny is so silly. Billy knows his phone talks to him."

🌿 6. Billy doesn't understand the concept of self-care

If you try to help Billy take a bath, you'll need to wrestle with a crazy feral cat. Billy doesn't like getting wet. But what if you bathe him? He will be as obedient as a child, sitting still with wide eyes like a shocked rabbit.

After finishing, Billy wraps himself in a towel like a burrito and rolls around on the floor.

If you give him shampoo, he will smell it and then... lick it. You panic and try to stop him, but Billy just looks at you with sincere eyes: "Billy wants to know what it tastes like."

🎁 7. Billy doesn't understand what "giving gifts" means.

The first time you gave Billy a Christmas gift, he bit into it as if testing whether it was edible. Then, he wrapped the entire gift box in his shirt and whispered contentedly, "Now it's Billy's."

He didn't open the gift. Not because he didn't like it, but because Billy thought that if he opened it, it would disappear. You have to explain for ages, and when Billy finally opens the box, he hugs the gift as if it were an eternal treasure.

Then, Billy tries to "gift" you back. As a result, you receive a dead mouse, a rusty nail, and a sock (not yours). You ask Billy where he found them, and he just smiles mysteriously: "Bunny doesn't need to know."

🥶 8. Billy doesn't perceive temperature in the usual way.

You once saw Billy wandering in the snow with a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater only—no layers, no variations, completely oblivious to the bone-chilling cold. But when you handed him a cup of hot tea, Billy flinched, looking at it with a fearful gaze as if it were an erupting volcano.

"Bunny, Bunny… It's smoking!"

You swear that Billy once tried to blow away the heat of the sun just because he thought it worked like a cup of tea.

This motherfucker always and always wears his dark green, long-sleeved turtleneck sweater. No exceptions. He doesn’t layer it, doesn’t wear anything over or under it—just that one sweater, forever.

And honestly? That just makes things funnier.

Like, imagine:

❄️ In the dead of winter – You’re shivering under three coats, a scarf, and gloves, while Billy is just standing there in the snow, unfazed, wearing only that damn sweater.

🔥 In the middle of summer – You're sweating buckets, and Billy still refuses to take it off. Not even rolling up the sleeves. You ask him if he’s hot, and he just blinks at you like he doesn’t understand the concept of temperature.

☕ Giving him a warm drink – He freaks out over the steam like it’s some eldritch horror.

🛁 Bath time struggle – Trying to convince him to take the sweater off just for a bath is like trying to wrestle a feral cat. ("No, Bunny, Billy needs it. Billy keeps it. Billy is safe in it.")

💤 Sleeping in it – You once woke up in the middle of the night and saw him curled up in a corner of your room, still wearing it. Still. Wearing. It.

🐰 9. Billy doesn't know how to sleep normally.

You sleep on the bed like a normal person. Billy is different.

Billy can sleep:

On the top of the cabinet

Curled up under the table

Hanging from the beam like a bat

In the bathtub (You were once startled when you walked into the bathroom early in the morning and saw Billy lying there, eyes still closed but mumbling, "Bunny, don't splash water, Billy isn't ready to be submerged yet.")

But the strangest thing? If he sleeps next to you, Billy tends to curl up around you like a cat protecting its kitten. You once tried to sneak out in the middle of the night, but Billy would immediately curl up tighter, pull you back, and nuzzle his nose into your neck possessively.

🎩 10. Billy doesn't understand the definition of "casual attire"

You: "Billy, let's just go to the supermarket, wear something normal!"

Billy: appears wearing a long coat dragging on the ground, an opera mask, and leather gloves

You: "...Billy, what is this?"

Billy: "Billy is the darkness, Bunny. Billy is a mystery."

It took you thirty minutes to convince Billy to wear a normal t-shirt. But as soon as they arrived at the supermarket, Billy secretly took a pair of sunglasses and a beanie, pulling them down to cover most of his face. When you ask, he just whispers:

"Bunny, they are watching."

You don't know who "they" are, but Billy seems very serious.

Bonus: why Billy calls you "Bunny" instead of something cruel like "Piggy"—and honestly, it makes so much sense when you think about it.

Unlike the sorority girls, whom Billy sees as playthings, objects, or intrusions in his house, you are something different to him. You’re not prey. You’re not disposable. Billy sees you as something delicate, fast, soft—something he doesn’t want to break.

Think about it:

🐰 Bunnies are skittish, but they don’t run from those they trust. → Billy sees you as something that chooses to be near him, despite everything.

🐰 Bunnies are fragile, but they can kick hard when threatened. → Billy knows you're softer than him, but you're not weak.

🐰 Bunnies are small, warm, and alive. → And maybe, deep down, Billy is drawn to life in a way he doesn’t fully understand.

Plus, there's another thing—bunnies don’t judge. They don’t look at him with fear, disgust, or hatred. They just exist. And maybe that's why Billy holds onto you so tightly, calling you "Bunny" in a voice that's almost... fond.

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 3. ground rules

cw: casual profanity, domestic chaos, mild suggestive humor, housemate shenanigans, implied past relationship tension, mushy friendship

your first few nights in the house were great. sirius served you all tea and sandwiches, james helped you put together all of your decorations, and remus made sure you all went to bed before midnight. it was a sweet dynamic you had walked into.

you almost didn't want to ruin it by mentioning the list you'd created.

by this morning, the illusion of harmony had started to crack—not in any serious way, just in the way that three boys sharing a house might slowly unravel a fourth person's patience. sirius had left butter out on the counter again—"it's supposed to be spreadable, remus"—, james had enchanted the mirror in the bathroom you both share to give daily quidditch stats, and someone accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater while doing a shared load of laundry. no one had confessed. sirius claimed laundry machines were a muggle curse.

"how else do you do laundry?" remus cursed, giving himself away as he bit his knuckles.

so, you do the sensible thing...what any woman would do! you summon a chalkboard and call a house meeting.

"right," you said, placing your hands on your hips as the three boys blink up at you from the sofa like you'd just interrupted a very important documentary about dragons in leather jackets.

"is this a mutiny?" sirius asks, suspicious. he looks far too comfortable lounging on the corner of the couch.

"no," you say sweetly, "but it could become one if you don't sit up and contribute. we are writing house rules."

james groans and glops sideways on the couch dramatically. "we're adults, y/n. adults don't need rules."

"adults also don't spill tea on the couch and blame the dog," you shoot back with a smirk.

"we don't have a dog."

"exactly!"

remus snorts from behind his mug. "we kind of have a dog."

"what?!" your face scrunches up with confusion, but you shake your head regardless. james and sirius let out too loud of laughs and you glare, turning around to walk away with crossed arms.

"wha—" james opens his mouth as you stalk back to your room. "hey, y/n, come back! i promise we'll listen."

"yeah, y/n, we'll be good. i promise. no more dog jokes."

you turn around slowly with squinted eyes. as you once again near the chalkboard, you write the number one on the board.

1. no dark or explosive magic indoors.

"seems easy enough," remus nods, impressed. "might be hard for james, though. the explosive bit."

james scowls and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. "whatever." he mutters.

2. everyone will contribute to chores, even if it sucks.

"we already all do that, fawley." sirius says with a proud tone, shaking his head at you.

"right, sirius, but you haven't let me help."

"pish posh!"

3. no stealing shampoo, conditioner, or body wash.

you don't even have to speak after writing down this one.

"but s'not my fault!" james whines loudly. "my father made the worlds best hair care products. all i want to do is compare!"

4. no—

"oooh, i know!" sirius exclaims with a shit-eating grin. "no pants after 9pm."

remus' lips upturn at this suggestion. "what the bloody hell are you talking about?!" though his mouth is twitching like he's fighting a smile.

"you heard me," sirius replies, sitting up straighter and twirling a piece of chalk like it's a wand. "no pants after 9 p.m. it's a lifestyle. it's freedom. it's tradition."

"since when?" james snorts, clearly delighted.

"since we all already walk around the place in just boxers," sirius argues, already halfway to convincing himself. "or y/n in a big ass t-shirt."

you blink slowly. "sirius, we're not making that a rule."

"why not?" he protests. "it builds character. and keeps us cool."

remus coughs into his tea awkwardly. "the silence right now is deafening."

"fine, fine," sirius sighs dramatically, flopping back on the couch. "but if you find me pantsless in the kitchen after hours, don't say i didn't warn you."

4. no potion-making in the kitchen unless it's edible and smells good (this is why we have regulus)

"does the smell of victory count?" james asks, lifting an eyebrow.

"do you want to be the victory that explodes in the oven?" you counter.

remus lifts his mug slightly. "i vote yes on this one. i still haven't recovered from last year's pepper-up cupcake incident."

"my pepper-up cupcakes were going to be brilliant," sirius shouts. "it was regulus who gave me the faulty recipe."

"ah yes. the potion-maker gave you a fault potion recipe, pads."

5. guests must be approved by two house members minimum.

"you know this applies to you, too, right?"

you look at sirius with your most unimpressed face. "this rule exists because of you."

"no," he protests. "it exists because you're friends with crouch!"

"barty is just as chaotic as you are!"

james gasps dramatically and braces the couch with his hands. "what an insult to sirius!"

6. no magically altering shared spaces without everyone's consent.

you point at the bathroom mirror with your chalk. "looking at you, potter."

james puts his hands up in surrender. "i was just trying to help us stay informed. stats are important. morale, you know?" he sways sirius' shoulder lightly, looking for backup.

"so is brushing my teeth without hearing about the wasps' defensive strategy," you reply flatly.

sirius leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "this is honestly the most structure i've had in my entire life. i love it."

remus eyes the board thoughtfully. "are we writing down the stereotypical no-hooking-up-with-your-roommates rule?"

the room falls completely silent.

sirius raises an eyebrow. james coughs into his sleeve. your face heats, just slightly.

you clear your throat. "i mean...did you have that rule with your last roommate?"

remus' lips tighten just a bit.

sirius smirks with a hum.

"wasn't much of a need for that rule with him...i mean no offense." james spat out, though his tone is awkward, like he regrets even opening his mouth.

"and is there a need for it now?" you ask, eyes flickering between the boys without meaning to.

silence.

whether it's awkward or... something else, you don't know. you sigh, turn back to the board, and write:

7. no romantic entanglements between housemates.

you cap the chalk and step back from the board, hands on your hips.

"seven rules. that feels solid," james says, nodding like you've just founded a government.

"solidly oppressive," sirius mutters, though he's smiling. "i suppose we should mark the occasion somehow. y'know? we've established a new beginning in the marauder's cottage!"

"what, with a solemn vow and a blood pact?" you ask, almost too enthusiastically.

"i was thinking more...dinner. maybe even a party?" remus says casually, rinsing out his mug in the kitchen sink. "something to make the cottage feel more like y/n's."

james perks up immediately. "i love that idea! we can invite everyone—lily, marlene, regulus, even crouch if he promises not to hex the cutlery. and all the others!"

"he hexed a cup once," you say defensively. "and it was self-defense. i had hexed his, too!"

sirius claps his hands together, suddenly energized. "it's settled, then! dinner tonight. casual, loud, maybe a bit chaotic—just the way we like it."

"how many people total are we talking?" you ask, warily eyeing the space.

"oh, you know," james says. "just a few friends."

you narrow your eyes. "define few."

sirius and james exchange a look.

shit.

previous next

[dazednstoned]

Modern Rdr2 hcs:

-Abigail dresses like it's the 2000s (I'm talking miniskirts, low rise jeans, heeled flip flops w the fucking sparkles). She will never change too.

-Charles and Arthur go on dates to those adoption events to pet all the dogs and cats

-the whole gang frequently gathers for family bbqs. Every time someone ends up getting punched, passing out, or storming off

-Abigail puts Jack on one of those backpack leashes for kids (John too if we're being honest)

-Tilly, Karen, and Marybeth do full goodwill, garage sale, and vintage market days. They do not mess around either

-the only thing hosea knows how to do on his phone is play chess

-Sean still can't read in modern time

-john plays guitar and writes really horrible love songs for Abigail

-Javier and john r for sure in a band together, they're pretty good when they sing the songs Javier wrote

-Lenny and Sean co-parent an extremely neglected widgetable

-Arthur listens to facebook reels on full volume in public w no shame. Isaac is mortified every time

-john has various tattoos, half of them are god awful. He definitely got Abigail's name or initials tattooed somewhere and she was livid

-Karen gives herself piercings with a really shitty piercing gun

-arthur and John work together in construction, an auto shop, or in the equestrian field.

-Dutch has a very rigid and lengthy skincare routine

-john uses 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner, but he says it's 3 in 1 bc it also counts as bodywash

-Tilly is the only one of her family to graduate college (Arthur dropped out of hs when Eliza got pregnant and john never went)

-Hosea is one of those old people you just see walking around the neighborhood at like 8am

-john and Arthur don't wear sunscreen or put on lotion. Abigail sometimes manages to force some sunscreen on John's face before he goes to work tho

-bill refuses to go to gay bars but uses Grindr

-Abigail cuts John and Jack's hair bc she refuses to pay for something she thinks she can do herself (she cannot do it herself)

-Kieran is a hair braiding god. I'm talking French braids, fish tails, you name it.

-john owns a really shitty pick up truck. Jack was either conceived or birthed in the backseat of it (maybe both)

-Sean falls for those free iPhone scams every time

-the only videogame charles plays is stardew valley. He thought it would be relaxing, it wasn't.

-Tilly and Mary Beth are in a book club together

-Abigail is the type of parent to not let her kid play w nerf guns or watch pg13 movies (John is the exact opposite)

-Sadie spends her weekends at rage rooms

-everyone's fridges are covered in drawings Jack made for them

-John, Javier, and Sean game together. Violence always ensues

-dutch does not tip waiters

-john tried to play catch w Jack once and ended up getting hit in the groin by a baseball. He didn't know 4 yr olds could throw that hard

-Abigail and Karen (& sometimes Charles) drink cheap wine together every Sunday and discuss the dumb things their boyfriends did that week

-Lenny and Hosea do the wordle everyday

-Jack is in little league soccer. John sits back drinking a beer as Abigail shouts at the referee

-Abigail got a tramp stamp of a little bow when she was 17 (she regrets it)

-Hosea exclusively sends emails

-Abigail hides John's weed socks bc she doesn't want Jack to see and "fall into a life of drugs" when he's older

-Arthur is a hiking dad through and through. While John is a sit on the couch drinking a beer w his kid in his lap kinda dad

-uncle is the old drunk that lived in the same trailer park as Abigail and John did when Jack was a baby. He kinda just stuck around after

-Miss Molly O'Shea would be a makeup god and u cannot convince me otherwise

I might do a pt 2 late in the future!

[readerstories]

In Rain and Mud - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 3/4

God damn this is a long one, these men have me in a strangle hold. (Part 1) (Part 2) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence,porn with plot, biting, blood, smut, anal fingering, oral, anal

Wordcount: 7209

Summary: Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town. So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

Getting out of the shower, you feel a lot fresher and better not smelling like blood and guts. It took several rounds of shampoo and soap to get it all out, but now you are clean. A little sore, but clean.

As you step out of the shower you realize the scent of blood is still lingering in the air, faint but noticeable enough to make you sniff the warm and humid air.

Grabbing a towel to put around your shoulders, your nose leads you to your laundry hamper, Logan’s and Wade’s suits next to it with two black damp towels sitting on top of your laundry. Logan’s suit is folded, Wade’s is crumpled on the floor. Picking up one towel, you sniff it. It smells of tobacco, leather, earth, and blood. Blood of multiple people.

Interesting.

Dropping one towel, you pick up the other. The blood is very much there too, but the rest of the smell is like sticking your nose in a bag of gummy worms. Sweet and artificial. 

You assume this is Wade, and the first was Logan.

Deciding you should probably stop smelling dirty laundry, you dry off, combing your hair into a somewhat controlled mess after you fluff it up with your towel drying, before wrapping the towel around your waist. They have already seen you nude, but it’s the principal of it. That was right after a fight, this is too long after it to be casual or in the moment.

Stepping out of your bathroom, you find Logan sitting on the couch, Wade wandering around the room poking and prodding at your stuff.

“Finally!” Wade exclaims, cutting off a sentence that you barely catch the end of, something about cats and dogs? “Thought you were going to be there forever and we would have to leave without seeing that pretty face and body again.” Wade strides over to you in what can almost be described as a bounce, grabbing a clean pair of green sweats and a black t-shirt he had apparently raided your dresser for. 

“Boo for the towel sweetcheeks. You couldn’t even leave a few water droplets for us to watch running down that hot and hairy bod, and to fantasize about later?” He grabs your shoulder, leaning in to sniff loudly right next to your ear before pulling back.

“You smell like wet dog.” He grins and you growl at him, your vocal chords changing enough that it comes out more wolf than human.

“Just get in the fucking shower Wade.” You have half a mind to just throw him outside and make him shower with rainwater running off from your roof, but he lets go of your shoulder.

“Yes captain, yes sir.” He gives you a mock salute, topped with a wink just before the door slams shut behind him. You roll your eyes at him, looking at Logan to see if he agrees with you that Wade is the most unserious man you have ever met. 

You notice the beer bottle in Logan’s hand and an empty bottle of whiskey (you assume and hope from last night) on the floor just after making brief eye contact with him. You glance at the clock. 

9 am. 

You look back at him, he stops with the beer bottle half way up to his mouth, tilting his head and raising a brow.

You shrug after a few seconds. None of your business.

“Just leave some for me.” Is all you say as you head to your bedroom, grabbing the clothes you stripped off before the fight. Smart thing would have been to pick them up earlier and get them with the rest of your laundry, but for now you toss them into a corner of your room, grabbing a clean white t-shirt, and new (plain, but practical, thank you very much) boxers, reusing your grey sweatpants, deeming them clean enough. You forego socks, padding back out into the living room on bare feet.

Logan has left the couch, beer set aside as he kneels in front of your fireplace, building up with logs to start a new fire with the few smoldering embers from last night's fire. You can hear Wade singing something in the bathroom, it sounds like a Taylor Swift song, you can’t place it, but you can hear how out of tune it is.

You don’t say anything to Logan, leaning your hip against your couch and watching him as he works, tuning out Wade as good as you can with enhanced hearing. 

You kind of wish you had given Logan a t-shirt instead of a hoodie, so you could have maybe, if the shirt was tight enough, watch his back muscles move. 

With practiced ease Logan gets good results just a few moments later, flames licking greedily up the newspaper and logs, casting a warm glow. He gets up with the smallest of grunts, which you wouldn’t have heard if you had normal hearing.

He doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest as he turns around and finds you looking at him, his expression neutral as it can be with those frown lines. You briefly wonder what other abilities he has other the the knuckle knives and healing that left his hands looking untouched. 

Your stomach chooses that moment to gurgle with hunger. A raised brow from him in humor at your uncontrolled stomach.

“You want a sandwich?” You don’t know why you ask him, to be polite you assume, as unusual that is for you in this whole weird situation.

“No.” His answer is to the point. “No thank you.” He adds as an afterthought, seemingly just as unused to being polite as you are. You shrug in acceptance, walking to your fridge as he goes back to the couch, grabbing a book from a shelf on the way.

He starts reading as you make your sandwich, the silence of the room broken only by the crackling of the fire and Wade’s still very off key singing, now it’s a song you definitely don’t recognize, something about underwear?

Whatever.

You finish making your sandwiches, taking your plate over to the couch, you too grabbing a book on your way to read. Logan glances at you as you sit down, there’s two armchairs you could have sat in, but you want your comfy corner on the sofa, so he will just have to share.

Besides, it makes it easier to discreetly smell him while you eat. He smells of tobacco and leather, but also a little bit like your conditioner and mild laundry detergent. He must have showered last night, stealing your products. You wonder if he styles his hair into those little tufts he has (which kind of look like cat ears), or if it falls like that ‘naturally.’

You know Wade is also using your products right this second, though at least he won’t need your shampoo and conditioner. 

Speak of the devil, the door to the bathroom slams open, Wade stepping out in a cloud of steam, making you both look up at him.

“Ahhhh, I feel like heaven! You gotta tell me where you got that watermelon scrub, makes me feel smooth like a baby all over.” You stare at Wade, because he’s wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten as a joke gift from a friend, (that you thought you had burned years ago), that says “I <3 big titted men” in bold white letters.

“Where the fuck did you find that?” It’s a little tight on him, becoming tighter as he flexes jokingly, almost posing for you to take him in fully. Which you do to be fair, he’s a lot fitter than you thought after that first glance when he was just wearing his pants yesterday.

“Top left drawer pookie. You’re due for a closet cleanout b-t-dubs. But also a closet upgrade, cause there was like, no fun underwear in there, not even some with those little comic red hearts on them.” He plops down between you and Logan, making Logan grunt and you growl at him as he steals half of one sandwich.

“You guys having a book club over here, or have I missed some important plot?” You eye him in annoyance, the stolen part of your sandwich disappearing quickly into his mouth. He tries to grab the other half, but you slap his hand away, which he pulls back quickly and holds with an over-dramatic pout.

“Not much else to do, other than watch whatever dvd’s I have, which I’ve already seen all off.”

“Boooorrrinnnggg. The books, not the dvd’s, I’m sure you got some real juicy ones in there.”

“Knock yourself out.” You gesture to the cabinet below your tv, and he quickly gets up, knocking his legs into yours. He tries another swipe of your sandwich, all he gets is another slap to his hand, though you are tempted to slap his thigh since it was within reach, but you restrain yourself. 

He kneels in front of your dvds, but before he can open his mouth to say more shit, you decide to ask a question that has been on your mind since the fight (or slaughter you suppose) in front of your cabin.

“Who were those people? In the tactical gear.” 

“Bad guys!” Wade comments, while reading the back of a dvd. “It was a job, we attacked a facility of theirs not far from here.” You frown.

“There isn’t supposed to be anything around here.”

“Well there isn’t anymore!” Wade cheerfully replies as he opens a case, taking out the disc and inserting it into your dvd player.

“Genius over here blew it up, along with our ride out of there.” Logan helpfully supplies, voice gruff and clearly having had enough of Wade’s shit a long time ago before you even met them.

“Oh shush you Mr grumpy, at least it led to this sweet man and his sweet bod and his sweet cabin.” Wade pinches your cheek as he settles down, earning yet another slap to his hand, the want for you to strangle him starting to build in the back of your brain.

“That does mean that we technically owe you money though, since you took down a good part of their team. Brutally, but very beautifully I might add.” You snort, taking a last bite of your sandwich. You notice how Wade follows the motion with his eyes briefly before starting to fiddle with the remote to your tv.

“No thanks, I’m not that desperate right now.”

“Ohhhh, someone has a big dark secret??” Logan turns his head to watch you out of the corner of his eye, his ability to only pay attention to only the words that matter from Wade’s mouth a clearly much learned and needed ability.

“Not really, just doing some dirty work here and there when my part time butcher job wasn’t enough, not much more to it.” You shrug, glancing at the TV, noticing of all things Wade had chosen “The First Wives club” as the movie to watch.

“Awww, a little baby mercenary!” He goes to pinch your cheek again, you catch his wrist, tempted to break it, but you just throw it in his lap instead. Logan watches the exchange with a barely there upturn of his lips that you just manage to catch before his face is his usual neutral scowl.

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Noted, baby is off limits, but sweetcheeks and handsome is not.” Wade grins and you roll your eyes.

“You fought something fierce out there.” Logan's voice is rough, cutting of whatever asinine thing Wad was about to say. You assume it’s meant as a compliment from Logan, taking it as such, though you shrug.

“I’m a mutant, it’s not the first time I had to defend something that’s mine, or use my powers for something grisly.” Your tone is light, it’s just a fact of life really.

“Awww, schnookums, you already think of us as yours!” Wade swoons, hips knocking into you and Logan, hands on his face and voice going into a higher pitch.

“The cabin you idiot.” You promptly ignore the little stutter your heart gives at the idea his words plants in your brain, and hope Logan is too deep in his second beer to notice or at least care. “Didn’t want it full of bullet holes.”

“Well, we were in front of it, which means we would also have been full of bullet holes, which means you do care.” Wade staples his fingers under his chin, blinking innocently up at you. Well, as innocent as a merc can blink covered in scars and bumps while you were told that he blew up a building the day before, before turning up on your porch smelling of blood. 

You look at him incredulously, book long forgotten in favor of this strange man. If nothing else, he keeps your attention easily.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You glance over Wade towards Logan. “Have you ever heard him shut the fuck up?”

“I keep talking unless my mouth is otherwise occupied handsome.” Wade says and winks, patting your thigh.

It’s far from the flirtiest thing that has spewed out of his mouth since you met him, but for some reason this time, it plants an idea in your head.

You look at Logan, who is rolling his eyes, but when you keep looking he squints and raises a brow. You glance at Wade, who’s still talking, though you have tuned his words out.

There’s a question in the tilt of your head and mirrored raised brow. Have you ever…?

Logan frowns as he realizes your silent question, shaking his head.

Turning your head the other way and glancing back at Wade, there’s a new question. Would you…?

Logan licking his lips, tongue barely peeking out is a clear answer.

“Hey, stop talking with your eyebrows, it’s not fair when I don’t have any!” You tune back into Wade, who clearly had realized that you weren’t listening to him, though you don’t think he has quite realized what silent questions and answers were happening right in front of him. He looks between you and Logan, the latter just staring at you.

You take that as an invitation to start whatever the hell this is going to be. You grab the collar of that god ugly t-shirt, pulling Wade closer to you.

“Hey, hey, be careful with the merchandise.”

“Wade.” Logan speaks from behind him.

“Was it the eyebrow comment? Really? That was what pushed you over the edge? To be fair to me they are bushy and match the whole wo-”

“Wade.” Logan growls his name out, making Wade whip his neck at an impressive speed, finding him closer than he was seconds ago. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You can already see the protest forming in Wade’s throat, so you turn his head towards you with a gentle hand on his jaw, stopping those words with a brief kiss to his scarred lips.

They are bumpier than anyone else you have kissed before, but you certainly don’t mind.

You only let the kiss last for a few seconds, pulling back just enough to gauge Wade’s reaction. 

His eyes are closed, but he opens them and blinks as more than a few seconds pass since the end of the kiss.

“If that’s all I’m gonna get, I am going to say you are really bad at edging.” You snort. So at least the flirting wasn’t all for show. Using your hold in his shirt, you pull him forwards, somehow maneuvering you both so you are leaning your back against the arm rest, Wade straddling your lap.

“If this is not your wet dream, it’s certainly one of mine.” You have one hand fisted in his t-shirt still, the other settles on his hip. His hands wander all over you. “You run warm. Is it the whole wolf thing? You are hot in more ways than one, though if you are just gonna hold me here and do nothing, I am going to call you a lot worse words than a god damn tease- Oh my god.” You grin up at Wade as Logan presses himself against his back, one hand on Wade’s unoccupied hip, the other covering your hand in his hip.

“Okay, this is definitely my wet dream now.” Wade laughs, his eyes wide, clearly not believing what is happening just yet. To convince him that this is real and not a dream, you tug on his shirt again to pull him into yet another kiss.

This one is longer, messier, deeper. You discover the inside of Wade’s mouth is soft, one place his scars haven't touched.

Your tongue explores the skin there as you wonder how it would feel around your dick. His hands are constantly moving, gliding through your hair, over your chest, down your stomach, up over your side. Not staying still for a second, but not even attempting to touch you where you want him to most.

And he had called you a tease.

Wade lets you do as you please, though he tries to give as good as he gets, but he’s somewhat distracted with the weight of Logan pressing into him, but also making him grind down on you with your combined hands on his hips. 

Your own cock grows hard in your sweatpants, making your hips twitch up towards Wade, well as much as you can with two men pretty much in your lap, one noticeably heavier than the other.

Wade whines, noise escaping between kisses, making a pleased rumble work its way up from your chest without really meaning to. Logan groans behind him, letting go of Wade’s hip to slip his hand into your hair, getting a good grip and tugging. You groan, it makes you break the kiss with Wade.

“What the hell Logan, can’t you see- Oh!” Logan leans forward even more, effectively squeezing Wade between the two of you as he pulls you into a kiss. He is softer than Wade, but hairier, his beard rubbing against you deliciously. His tongue dips into your mouth, just briefly between a lot lighter kisses.

Wade’s face is pressed against your shoulder, and he takes the opportunity to bite down on your clothed shoulder. You gasp with pain and pleasure into Logan’s mouth, who takes the opportunity to press his tongue in deeper, which you take greedily.

You break the kiss, but only so you can retaliate against Wade, biting him with a lot sharper teeth, sharp enough that you rip through fabric and pierce skin, tasting that familiar copper tang on your tongue. Logan still has his grip on your hair, though it is lighter now.

“Jesus fuck I swear on myself like Marvel Jesus, I liked that shirt!” You hear Logan snort, making you look up at him

“Too bad.” You hum, letting your hands transform just enough that you have claws, giving you an easy way to slit the t-shirt into pieces, keeping eye contact with Logan as you do so. Your claws leave light red marks in your wake, not much worse than someone with long nails scratching, but they are gone in seconds, just as you realize the bite on his shoulder is already gone as well. 

So he has super healing too, info you file away for later to maybe test out some more. Perk, you can go hard. Con, no marks to look at and adore later.

“If the two of you plan on fucking each other through me I am so down, but I must point out my mouth is horribly unoccupied at the moment.” He’s right, which you can’t have, so you push at Logan’s thigh, making him back off. Logan does so, but doesn’t go far, only enough so you can swing your legs over the side of the couch, plating them on the floor as you manhandle Wade down to kneel between them. 

Your cock is aching in your sweatpants, pre-come making a little wet spot on the grey fabric, which Wade hones in on. His hands are on your thighs, all of him leaning forward, but pausing as black clad thighs sit down next to you, an arm thrown over the back of the couch, hand brushing against your shoulder.

“Your choice with how you wanna occupy that pretty little mouth of yours Wade.” You press your thumb to his bottom lip, he opens his mouth so suck on your thumb for a few seconds, eyes darting between your own and Logan’s.

“This mouth is not pretty or little, it’s huge and filthy, don’t either of you forget it.” Thumb out of his mouth, he dips down and forward to mouth at your cock through the soft material of your pants.

“Wolvie over there can wait, he has already gotten to almost sorta fuck me in a Honda Oddesy.” You look at Logan, who grimaces.

“It was a fight.”

“The most homoerotic thing I’ve ever been a part of that wasn't just straight bone on bone.”

“I stabbed you.” Interesting.

“Not mutually exclusive honey badger.”

“Multiple times.” Very interesting.

“Still-” Rolling your eyes, you quickly end what is turning out to be unnecessary bickering by pressing Wade’s face down into your crotch with a heavy hand on the back of his head.

“Okay yeah, message received!” His words are muffled against your dick, but his thumbs up is clear. And it feels good, which is all you care about for the moment. Speaking of, you look to the side, catching Logan staring. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly let him, breathing in the scent of the two of them around you.

All you can smell is sex, arousal, and excitement, what is coming stronger off whom is impossible to decipher.

Wade’s hands on your thighs move up to your waistband as his mouth keeps dancing over your still clothed cock, sucking it through the by now soaking material. You groan and moan, each noise swallowed greedily by Logan.

Wade fingers curl, starting to pull your sweats down, he momentarily stops as the fabric bunches up because he can’t move it further, but you are quick to lift up your hips just enough so he can pull it the rest of the way off. Somehow you manage to not break your kiss with Logan, which means he feels the pleased rumble you let out against his lips as Wade’s hand circles your cock.

“Not gonna lie, your cock is great, perfect size honestly, but I was expecting the carpet to match the drapes so to speak.” You and Logan both break the kiss, looking down at Wade, who’s slowly moving his hand up and down your cock, making it hard to dechiper what the fuck he means.

“Wade, what the fuck are you on about?” Logan grumbles out, a hand falling down on your thigh, squeezing without seeming to be conscious of the action. Wade looks at him, raising one hand up towards Logan.

“One: saw his full form." Middle finger up. "2: his partial transforming of his hands." Pointer finger up. "3: Why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to transform just this?” Ring finger comes up as he squeezes your cock, making your hips twitch up and cock leak pre-come.

“Oh for fucks sake you moron.” Logan scowls at him, hand squeezing your thigh again as Wade strokes over your cock, slowly. Something about the bickering like this is oddly familiar, but also very hot.

“Don’t bully me, I’ll cum.” Wade jokes right back at Logan’s words. You pluck his hand off your cock, even as much as you don’t want to.  “Hey, hey, I am not complaining enough for you to do that!” He tries to get his hands back on you, but you hold his wrists so he can’t move as you concentrate.

The transformation isn’t as smooth and effortless as your other ones, needing some concentration and muscles flexed in effort. Slowly your cock transforms, growing longer, thicker, tapered with a bulge towards the bottom, just above your balls.

Wade wolf whistles, Logan stares in stunned silence.

“Ohhhh, who made you realize you could do this?

“If you think you’re the first person that asked this question I’ve met Wade, sorry to disappoint.” 

“Oh no no no, no disappointment here, just utter delight that whoever they were helped you on your way to realize your full freak potential.” You snort letting go of his hands, which immediately goes to your cock. You throw your head back, your own hands finding their spot on the back of his head, not pushing, but clearly sending a message of where you want this to go eventually. 

Logan’s hand on your thigh squeezes down again, and you hear and feel him shift on the couch, leaning forward so he can smell over your throat.

“You smell like a fucking three course meal, and fucking look like it too.” He growls against your skin, and you feel sharp canines brushing against your pulse. Your dick pulses, leaking more pre-come, which is suddenly cleaned away by Wade’s warm tongue. You moan, one hand moving from Wade’s head to Logan’s, pressing him against your neck as you tilt your head.

He takes the invitation, pressing sharp teeth into your throat and biting down as Wade starts to sink his mouth down around your cock. Logan bite is not hard enough to draw blood, but you can tell he wants to with the way he keeps biting over the same spot over and over again, skin healing rapidly beneath his teeth.

You lick your lips, trying to find your words, but it’s hard with Wade’s mouth on your cock, and Logan’s mouth on your neck and his hands on your thigh and in your hair.

But you manage to find them, by the grace of whatever deity you believe in.

“Logan, I was shot today, I think I can manage your teeth.” You growl out, which Logan answers with a growl of his own. You feel Wade moan around your cock, his tongue working over your shaft as his mouth slides up and down your cock, as Logan finally bites down hard enough to draw blood. 

It stings, but it feels so goddamn good, especially as he doesn’t let up, not giving your sking a chance to heal, making the blood run down the side of your neck. 

Without thinking your hips chant up, chasing that pleasure you can feel cursing through your veins. Wade choking on your cock is expected, as he does you feel your cock twitch, even as he pulls off you to catch his breath. His hands don't leave you though.

“Fuck, give a guy some warning.”

“Wade, less talking.” Logan has only let go of your neck to speak in a low voice that is all grumble and no finesse.

“Yeah yeah, just a quick question, does your healing work on refractory periods?” 

“Yes.” You and Logan answer in unison, staring at each other for a few seconds before your focus is back on Wade, a wide smile taking up most of his face.

“Oh I fucking love my life, and fanfiction. I am going to make you come in my mouth first, then I am going to ride this freaky dick into the sunset. Or sunrise, cause I can go alllll night.” You roll your eyes. But, you like the sound of that plan, arousal stirring in your guts at his words. You need things to move along.

“I got lube in the bedroom, bottom drawer on the right nightstand.” 

“Damn, the one place I didn’t have time to snoop. Come on peanut, go get it, and then help me open up for this massive thing.” You expect some sort of protest from Logan, but he gets up, only pausing to steal a kiss and whisper in your ear. 

“I want to watch him ride you, to both of you break.” His dick is temptingly close to your face as he gets up, just a little lean forward and down, but you don’t move an inch, mouth dry and speech having left your for a few seconds as you watch him the whole walk to your bedroom, that fantastic ass on display even in black sweatpants.

“Deadpool fucking Wade, that man.” You look down at him. “What, I am Marvel Jesus, only fitting I take my own name in vain.” God he is on some nonsense, you mind less now though he kneels in front of you, shirtless, hard as a rock in his pants, a mix of pre-come and spit shining on his lips. 

Once more you push your thumb into his mouth, though this time the rest of your fingers rest under his chin, giving you a grip to guide him towards your cock.

“You talk too much.” He doesn’t protest at all, taking your cock into his mouth so easily and willingly, sucking on the tip before sinking down further, hands covering what his mouth and tongue can’t or don’t.

You hear Logan come back just a few short moments later, as he kneels behind Wade, who you feel wiggle as good as he can while keeping his mouth’s rhythm on your cock. The uncapping of the lube bottle makes you open your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had closed them.

Logan is fully nude now, Wade matching seconds later as his pants are pulled off by Logan. You tug your own shirt off, throwing it to the side, not caring where it lands.

You watch as Logan sinks the tip of one finger inside Wade. Wade reaches back, pushing Logan’s hand against him, making him sink deeper.

“More.” It’s barely audible around your cock, but it gets the message across, making Logan push his finger all the way to the knuckle. Wade moans around your cock at the feeling, which in turn makes you moan as pleasure shoots up your spine.

Logan pulls his finger out of Wade, but before he can protest, there’s two thick digits shoved inside of him. Wade’s hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise, but you know with your healing they will never appear, which is a shame, because you think to have Wade’s handprints on you would be hot.

Two fingers soon turn into three, and it takes some damn self control on your part to not come in Wade’s mouth as he groans around you because of the added stretch. 

He takes his mouth off your cock, licking over your shaft and balls before spitting in his hand, looking over his shoulder at Logan.

“I want you to fuck me first, spread me open for him.” Logan groans as Wade looks up at you, hand pumping fast over your cock. “And you are going to come in my mouth, then I’m riding you even if the fucking couch breaks and the stuffing is spilling out.”  You voice your agreement with this arrangement by leaning down and pulling him into a quick and messy kiss. 

“You better hurry up, or else I’m just going to spill all over your hand.” Your voice is deep, more grumble than words, but Wade takes those words to heart, mouth sinking down and around your cock once more.

Behind him, Logan sinks into him, slowly filling him up. You can tell he’s sunk to the hilt when Wade stops, a shuddering breath coming out of his nose.

The pause isn’t long, hands and mouth on your cock working hard on you to make you spill on his tongue. One hand goes down to fondle your balls, for a moment dipping lower, teasing, before going back up.

Logan starts slow, but Wade isn’t having it, reaching back like earlier, pawing at his ass, clearly wanting more. 

Which Logan gladly gives, the wet slaps of him fucking into Wade filling the room alongside the noises of Wade sucking your cock like a champion. 

One of your hands is gripping the couch so hard it’s a miracle the fabric hasn’t ripped, the other is pressing down on Wade’s head. 

Not that it’s needed, he’s sucking on you like a man starved, or a man on a mission. A mission to taste you, to make you cum before he does.

Which is nearly thwarted as Logan gets his hand on Wade’s cock, if the full body shudder is anything to go by.

But, by some miracle, you come first, exploding over Wade's tongue with just a shout of his name as warning. He almost chokes, but drinks you down, making sure to get every drop of you. He lets your cock fall out of his mouth to lick up what has spilled from his mouth, almost teasing if it wasn’t for how desperate his movements are. 

Your cock stays hard, through just minimal effort from you, though you hardly pay it any mind with how Wade moans against your warm skin.

Logan is giving him as good as Wade gave you. Wade's mouth dance over your thighs before biting down as he cums, spilling come over Logan’s hand, and blood over his teeth and your thigh.

Logan is not far behind. Three pumps is all it takes for him to spill inside Wade, and you swear you see his claws peeking out from between his knuckles. Seconds later they are gone, Logan panting hard against Wade before pulling out. He’s still hard, which makes your mouth water and an idea forms in your head.

Before you can act on it though, you find yourself being manhandled onto your back, seconds later Wade is straddling you, hips spread wide. He grabs your cock, guiding it in, slowly starting to sink down. His cock is still hard or perhaps hard again, you don’t know or care to differentiate the two. You go grab it, but he bats your hand away. 

All it does is shift your attention to Logan, who is still kneeling on the floor, cock hard between his legs as he watches the two of you with rapt attention. 

The idea from earlier springs forth in your minds. You need your mouth on that cock. 

Right now.

You make what can only be described as a grabby motion at him, too focused on not coming again already, you cock inside Wade’s warm and wet hole making it difficult to be able to form proper words.

It does get the message across though, as soon enough you have Logan straddling your chest, your hands grabbing his ass as you guide his hips towards your face. He chuckles, which goes straight to your dick which makes it twitch inside Wade, who in turn moans.

He rests his tip on your lips, and you open your mouth, ready to feel the weight and taste of him on your tongue and in your mouth.

You suspect he was going to try to keep back, to deny himself and you just for a few moments longer, but it’s squashed as Wade also squeezes Logan’s ass, laughing at the grumble it gets him. 

“Come on, you know you want to, it's rude to keep a guy hanging.” For once you are glad Wade is able to quickly find his words, because yours is lost somewhere in the back of your throat where you wish for Logan’s cock to be.

He pushes his cock into your mouth, and you groan at the just perfect feeling of him on your tongue. You also shift your feet so you can meet Wade’s bounces, earning you a breathless laughter.

God, they feel so fucking good. Wade is bouncing on your cock like he was made for it, Logan fucking into your mouth slowly, clearly not wanting to choke you. 

But you want him to.

Not that you really can, having almost no gag reflex.

Which Logan seems to realize as you take him with no effort over and over and over again, your mouth and throat open for him.

He speeds up, abandoning his slow pace, matching Wade’s instead.

You start to rumble, deeper than either of them have heard from you before, making them stop in their tracks. 

"Fucking hell, you're like a god damn vibrator!" Wade laughs, an appreciative sigh coming out his mouth as he lazily grinds himself down on your cock. Logan lets out a low fuck, digging one hand into your hair, the other into the back of the couch, and you definitely see a quick glint of the tips of his claws again.

You’re not having this stopping, pulling at Logan, transformed claws digging into his ass as you encourage him to keep fucking into your drooling mouth, and pump your hips up into Wade. They groan in sync, starting to move again, and you feel your second orgasm rolling up on you.

All it takes is one tug off your hair from Logan and a squeeze from Wade’s hole to your to spill over the edge. 

The continued vibrations in your throat as you growl while cumming send Logan over the edge, spilling all over your tongue, making you swallow it all down greedily. Wade is just a second behind, the feeling of you spilling into him being enough, making him sit down fully on your cock, milking you for every last drop as he spills over Logan’s back and ass, some of it dripping down onto your stomach.

It takes a while for you to come down, to get your senses back enough to let go of Logan’s ass, letting him pull out of your mouth. You both gasp for air, seconds later he is down and on his back on the floor, catching his breath. Wade is in a similar state pulling off you, out of breath, but he plops down on top of you instead. 

You feel him leak down on your thighs, and there’s Logan’s cum on your chin where some escaped your mouth , and given a 15 minute rest, you could go again.

You don’t push for it though.

A few minutes go by, and you realize it’s the longest you’ve gone without hearing a word from Wade without anyone else talking. You lift your head, looking where he has his head on your chest. You raise two fingers against his neck, but it’s batted away, albeit weakly.

“Five more minutes.” He sounds half asleep, which he probably actually is.

“Were you going to check for a pulse?” Logan says from the floor, humor evident in his voice.

“Haven’t heard silence in so long, needed to check if everything is alright.”

“You are so mean to me.” Wade’s eyes are closed and his voice is flat, but you can feel the smile stretching his lips against your warm skin. “Mind blowing sex will do that to a man, even one as strong as me. You are both invited to fuck me unconscious again.”

“Aaannndd it’s gone.” You roll your eyes as it seems Wade is slowly rebooting, at least his mouth is, the rest of his body is limp and heavy on top of your own. “Come on, up you go.” You push at his shoulder, and he whines, actually whines, which shouldn’t go to your dick, but it does.

You ignore it with a sigh, maneuvering him enough that you can stand up on your own, leaving him on the couch, before leaning down to throw him over your shoulder like a rag doll.

“Hot.” He mumbles and you snort, turning towards Logan who is now at least sitting up on the floor. His hair is a mess, tufts long gone, disheveled locks only being pushed into somewhat of an order as he drags a hand through his hair.

“I would offer to carry you too, but I know my limits.” Logan snorts, reaching a hand out, which you take, helping him up from the floor. “I suggest we all cuddle up in bed, have a nap, then figure out something to eat.” Logan reaches for the remote, turning your TV off.

“Or we could go round three. Just give me an hour. Or two. You guys fucked me up real good.” You both roll your eyes at Wade’s words, heading to the bedroom. Logan grabs three water bottles on the way, closing the door behind you as you put Wade down on your bed. You grab your disregarded t-shirt from earlier to wipe Wade down, using a little bit of spit to loosen up the dried blood on his shoulder. He lets you without much of any noise, you would think he was already asleep if it wasn’t for the fact that barely open eyes watch you as you do so.

Logan gives Wade a water bottle, cap already off, offering you an unopened one.

“No princess treatment for me?” You jokingly ask, finished with cleaning Wade off for now, still holding onto the shirt you used to clean him with.

“You can still walk.” You chuckle before chugging half of the water bottle in one go.

“Smug fucks.” Wade mumbles, watching your throat as you chug.

“Here, let me.” Logan grabs the t-shirt from your hand, wiping away Wade’s cum from your stomach, your blood from your neck, and his and yours mixed release from your thighs. “All clean.” He spots the little spot on your chin. “Except riiiighhtt…” He licks his come away. “There.” Wade groans from the bed, making the both of you look at him,

“Still fucking hot. Scratch what I said earlier, 30 minutes and I will be rearing to go, you too hot for anyones good motherfuckers."

“Oh shut the fuck up Wade.” You say in unison. You put your water bottles to the side, Logan throwing your now very stained t-shirt into a corner as you both get on the bed with Wade. You curl up behind him, Logan against his front as he pulls the duvet up over the three of you.

Sleepy and comfy silence fills the room, only broken by a couple of yawns.

It lasts for about a minute.

“Chat, does this make me a furry?” 

“Don’t make me fucking gut you Wade.” You growl, letting your nails just grow the tiniest amount so they poke into the flesh of his stomach from where you have your arm thrown over his waist.

“Ohhh, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“God, you are so fucking strange.”

“Say you, you nasty dog.” Wade pushes his ass back against your crotch, where your cock is still sensitive, though transformed back into your normal form. You and Logan growl in unison, stilling any movement Wade tries with solid hands on him.

“Shut the fuck up, and go to sleep Wade.” Logan mutters against his forehead.

“Alright, alright Wolfie and Wolvie, but you both run hot, so if I wake up in the middle of the night because I died of overheating, it’s your fault.” You scoff, nose buried against the back of his neck, the texture and sweet smell of him by now familiar, lulling you into sleep. 

It also helps that he smells of you and Logan.

[kamaluhkhan]

read below the cut if you wanna know more about each option ;))

HER CANINE TEETH IN THE SIDE OF MY NECK (werewolf!vi x vampire slayer!reader)

slightly canon-divergent....basically set during pit fighter!vi arc except in this world we've got vampires! and werewolves!!!! (can you tell i've been rewatching buffy the vampire slayer and first kill???)

so reader is also a pit fighter -- they literally meet for the first time when they're competing underground. the next morning vi wakes up with a wicked hangover in some stranger's apartment and that stranger is you! and your dog! vi doesn't realize this yet but you saved her drunk ass from a vampire anyways, you invite vi to train with you and some other girls, which she denies at first but vi's eventually like,, tired of the whole lone wolf thing but still very scared to let people in after what happened with caitlyn,, so she joins somewhat reluctantly and you become friends ("whoever wins the most fights that night picks up the tab for the bar.") and vi maybe has a crush on you but she tries very hard to keep her identity a secret.....while you're also trying to keep the whole vampire slayer thing under wraps....perhaps unsuccessfully, but i don't want to spoil it hehe. i will however share this moodboard thing that i spent a bunch of time at work making

IS IT CASUAL NOW? (college fwb!vi x reader)

SO this is probably my most self-indulgent fic oops - it's kinda inspired by leighton's arc in sex lives of college girls season 1! basically, vi's on the varsity soccer team and after a series of unfortunate events (anger issues, bad breakup) is put on academic probation and has to volunteer at the women's centre or else she'd get kicked off of the team. she goes for her first shift and she's like...that president looks awfully familiar?? and reader's like, yeah, i work at that bar you keep starting fights in....so off to a great start. reader and vi don't really get along at first bc obviously vi doesn't wanna be there and reader is just not having it so there's TENSION. but then vi's like ,, oh this actually isn't so bad??? these ppl are kinda cool??? and maybe wait is reader kinda hot??? and reader's like....maybe this angry butch lesbian has a soft heart (vi is the definition of looks like she could kill you and she COULD but is also a huge cinnamon roll). eventually turns into a friends with benefits situation. (yeah, we bang on the couch.....yeah, she's knee deep in the passenger seat eating me out vibes). but then there are like moments where it's like....are we dating? like, reader will run into vi at the library where she's checking out feminist literature and reader's like...since when are you into this stuff? turns out vi is taking a gender studies elective so she can impress reader; vi starts showering at reader's place after practice bc she just really loves smelling like reader's shampoo, and reader keeps her fridge stocked with those energy drinks vi is obsessed with; reader wears vi's jersey to one of her games, meets her family, and they insist that reader join them for dinner to celebrate (i fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner!!! your parents at the table, you wonder why i'm bitter!!!); one night vi is worried when reader doesn't show up for her shift at work so checks in on reader and turns out she's having really bad period cramps and is like super stressed so vi stays in bed with her watching movies until she falls asleep and then cleans up her apartment (vi is such an acts of service person!!!); they both hate doing laundry so they do it together on a sunday morning after spending all of saturday night fucking. something about being happy doing laundry and taxes with someone (iykyk). spoiler alert, it'll end with the centre in dire need of funding so reader's scrambling to save it and one day reader sees vi talking to her ex and gets super jealous but then vi's like ,, babe ,, i was trying to convince caitlyn to get her family to donate and it WORKED !!! so ,, yeah ,, reader is convinced vi's the woman she'll one day make her wife (and she's more than happy to get down on her knees for her oop). the centre is saved and reader and vi confess their feelings for each other and live happily ever after <3

GLORY AND GORE (the hunger games au)

basically sapphic katniss x peeta. vi and reader are picked for the 74th annual hunger games ,, they do the whole fake relationship for the camera thing that eventually turns into them needing each other to survive in the arena...and then after they're like oh shit not only can i not survive without you, i don't wanna survive without you.

LIKE SOME MISPLACED JOAN OF ARC (spiderverse au)

vi is spider-gwen spider-woman! she's in college, plays drums in a band, has an internship at some lab and spends a lot of her time saving the city but there's the lingering guilt that she couldn't save you (canon event: losing their first love). one day she's fighting some villian and....a portal opens? and she's transported into another universe?? the only place she knows of for sure is her apartment and when she knocks on the door, her heart almost stops -- because you're the one who opens it. turns out in this universe, you're spider-woman, dealing with some demons of your own (two canon events rolled into one: losing their first love and not being able to save the life of a police captain....and your vi was an enforcer). basically you have to work together to get vi back home and maybe fall for each other along the way even though you both really really don't wanna go through losing the other and it seems like it's inevitable. but, fuck the universe, right?