#and when johnny gets a body he tries to make a habit of it as well

[totentnz]

18 I MEANT 18

Soft OTP prompts

18. Write about how each member of your ship smells. 

essentially they smell the same since even before their souls were fused they were so much alike.

the smell of fresh and old cigarette smoke somehow mixing, sweat (also old and fresh), cheap body wash/ deodorant (think old spice), whatever smell of the previous night partying lingers on them and that mildew-y smell when you leave your clothes in the washer for too long because you couldn't be arsed to put it in the dryer.

that might sound a bit boring at first but since they are mirrors for each other they eventually realise how bad they smell. whether they care about that revelation or not is a different question entirely.

additionally v has that sweet smell on her breath from drinking too much nicola/ spunky monkey/ energy drinks though i think most of it gets covered up by the smell of menthol cigarettes. she also uses gel/mousse/ hairspray to style her hair which would make for a prominent scent. there is a slight hint of wax on her since she uses it to make her clothes repel water. punks often use floss for their stitching so if she just got done customising some clothes i think there is that mint-y smell as well.

to add to the nastiness: you can def smell if she's on her period. not by walking past her but if somehow the other smells didn't bother you enough and you get close and personal with her, there is that metallic-y blood smell.

note: she DOES try to cover up all that with deodorant but as we all know it only makes it worse somehow.

johnny on the other hand doesn't smoke menthols, he's also got that leather-y smell from his pants (is it real leather? i doubt it but it's not impossible) he probably also wears some cologne some groupie got him to impress him. though i doubt he does a lot of maintenance on his arm i think there is the smell of grease/ oil wafting off it, as well as any other liquid/ (bodily) fluid that is stuck within it's creases.

overall MY silverv is s4s (stinky 4 stinky)

[reveluving]

Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤

LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 

And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.

“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.

And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?

Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.

And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 

With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.

You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 

Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.

But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 

In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”

And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.

It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.

Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.

Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.

‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).

But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.

Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?

“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.

But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.

A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 

Oh, the seats.

John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 

Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 

Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 

Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!

“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Sounds like a keeper to me.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[machveil]

Boyfriend!Simon Riley that tries to get into whatever hobby you do. you like to read? he’s reading whatever book you picked up while you’re in the shower so he can casually talk about it later with you. you like to draw? well, Simon might not be the best, but he’ll model for you if you want. he’ll doodle on napkins and leave them around your home for you to see - little, scribbled skulls with hearts.

Boyfriend!Simon Riley that makes it his priority to keep you safe. sleeps closest to the door, walks with his body closest to the road, stares daggers behind you while you talk to a cashier - he can’t help that one though, poor man just has a habit of staring.

Boyfriend!Simon Riley that’ll swap shoes with you if your feet hurt from wearing heels or the soles of your shoes are bothering you. takes his off without hesitation - if your shoes can handle it and you need a good laugh he’ll try walking in what you were wearing, “Bloody hell, how the fuck were you walkin’ in these?”

Boyfriend!Simon Riley that trusts his team to watch you if he has to step away. knows Price’ll scare off anyone with a glare, and Gaz will watch your drink if you get distracted. Chuckles when he comes back and sees that Johnny is talking him up - ever the wingman.

Wingman!Johnny that, even before you started dating Simon, would make him sound good, “Yeah, lass, toughest man on base— you better get with ‘em quick, yeah?”. fist bumps Simon when he tags in, “He didn’t give you too much trouble, did he, love?”

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[willowed-wisp]

stitches [simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you

Hopefully this doesn’t suck and makes sense for the most part. Thanks for anybody that reads this 🥰

WARNINGS: smut, descriptions of injury, body insecurity… a bit of plus size!reader

When you joined the Special Forces, you didn’t want to form attachments.

That was the only rule you held yourself to.

As a medic back at base, you thought it would be easy. Alas, fate had other plans in the form of Task Force 141.

Lead by Captain John Price- who had handpicked you for medical support- to stay back at whatever base looked like- whether it be a van or a safe house.

With that, you lived with the boys. John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. You kept yourself to yourself at first, not confident among four SAS soldiers nor in yourself. Knowing of them only.

So you planned to stay huddled in the corner and quiet.

Then in the middle of the night, you came face to face with a black balaclava and a gruff voice, “Ya good?” You only remember the nightmares… more so flashbacks. They were relentless- creeping in the recesses of your mind, waiting for times when stress peaked. Unfortunately this entire ordeal was nerve-wracking.

You only noticed the warm hand on your shoulder, instinct led you to stare past the noir covering the majority of his face and into his eyes. Caring eyes.

He had no need to check if you were okay, he didn’t know you but, nevertheless, it was nice to see the lieutenant as something other than a looming figure.

The seriousness became too much to bear for you, “Do you sleep in that thing?” Using humour to take the edge off- well trying to.

“Soundly,” Earthy, rugged… British yourself, he sounded awfully English. That was when your eyes dawned on the clock- the time more specifically. 02:01.

“Do you sleep at all?” Another attempt but he didn’t laugh- your smile faded, maybe a tad intimated. He wasn’t exactly small.

He stood away, no longer crouching at your bedside. How tall was the guy? You tried to hide the wonder on your face, “Better than you… when I do get a kip…” Some pain in those words. “Better get some shut eye, Y/L/N… see ya at dawn.” You slept better knowing at least someone in 141 had your back.

After that you started integrating more with the lads. You learned that Johnny could clean his messes up exceptionally well, and that’s why he was called ‘Soap’. Price still thought the name was bullcrap but alas, not your problem.

You also noticed that Ghost never showed his face. Black face paint shrouding the skin showing around his dark eyes or his sunglasses. You preferred the face paint.

He had a habit of watching you from across the room chatting with Soap and Gaz- you blocked any possible avenues of relationships. Not that they’d be interested in you (your own thoughts). You didn’t find yourself attractive or good enough. A bit too much weight, you continued to think.

It was a good thing, you couldn’t get distracted.

That was until that day…

Supply checks… stock up on the sterilised needle and stitch thread. You barely had any use to 141, just a glorified nurse who had no business being given a code name.

“Stitches! It’s LT!” The brash Scotsman bolstered his comrade over to the gurney in the impromptu medical van. Blue eyes flashed over into yours, hulking the larger man to lay on his back.

Ghost wasn’t having any of it, attempting to sit up only for more blood to gush from his thigh. You rushed into action, “Soap, get us out of here,” said all too calmly for someone under such pressure. The man did as he was told and they were off. Meanwhile, you had pushed the lieutenant down on the bed. He grunted in pain each time he made a move, “For fuck’s sake, stay still so I can fucking see.” Blue gloves on, as he stopped wriggling, “Thank you.” You were still unimpressed but at least he listened. Unbeknownst to you under the mask he donned a pained smirk- unaware you could be so commandeering. Almost proud of you.

A grunt paused his pride, “Fuck…” Through gritted teeth. Your fingers working the tweezers with expert precision.

He went to sit up, your left hand pressed against his sturdy chest- pushing him down, “Want me to snag your femoral artery, Ghost?” In no time, a red-coated bullet laid in the metal tray and he sat there in his boxer shorts- watching you work and hitching a breath each time the needle breached skin.

They were the gentlest hands that had ever worked on him. “What happened?” Eyes boring into his as you cast off the stitch.

“Someone got the jump on me, should see ���im,” you smiled at that, able to tell he was too. By his eyes.

The ones you dreamt of every night- except when the terrors returned. Johnny was too heavy of a sleeper to hear you, but Simon’s eyes were what you woke up to. In the flesh. He never asked what they were about, just comforted you.

When your deployment ended, and you returned home… you missed the guys. And his warm eyes whenever you returned to the land of the living.

Johnny contacted you. A pub crawl in Scotland, apparently Gaz, Price and even Simon were game.

Turns out you and Ghost didn’t live too far away. In ten minutes, a knock at your door and you met that deep gaze. “Johnny only just message ya, didn’t he?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m drivin’ us, don’t trust Gaz’s deathtrap…”

“Well… I just need to grab my stuff,” He started to walk away up the path to his 4x4. “You can come in and wait if you wanted?” Who was he to turn you down when you asked so nicely.

He helped you with your bags, “You sure ya gonna get through with that?”

“Haha,” dry humour, there was a reason you seemed to get on, “And if you want me to get more shit…”

You could see a glint in his eyes, “Nah, you’re alright, love…” That went straight down to between your thighs, the look on your face amused the man.

Surprisingly, the two of you weren’t awkward. Quiet here and there.

You assumed he wasn’t used to social interaction in general- especially wearing that balaclava, not good for conversation.

Simon was good to talk to, all waffled speech was redacted with him. Straight forward, sometimes sarcastic and wholly looking for banter- that’s what you preferred.

And there was no chance he would be interested in you. He has the aura of a guy who gets the attention of stunning women. Why would he want you? (You thought)

It was never going to happen.

By the end of that car ride, he learned about your messy string of exes and he had way too much Shania Twain on his playlist (and knew all of the words).

Johnny greeted you both with open arms, a tight hug for you, “You been ta’ing care of yourself, Stitches?”

“Better than you look, use more soap…” The laughs and hug came to an abrupt end- his stare directed over to Simon who loomed behind you. Was it just you, or did Johnny look scared?

“Let me show y’ where you’ll be sleepin’…”You went to grab your bags but Ghost already had it covered.

Poor you, you didn’t know what would await your stay at Johnny MacTavish’s.

The tip was a stretch, your head thrown back against the blanket pillow. Silent screams playing in your throat. He could feel the struggle and see the pleasure striking your visage. Murmurs of his name, “Si- Simon -!” Broken and whimpering. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the edge of losing his cool. You were pulsing around him so angelic.

“You’re takin’ me so well, lovie,” His hips took a full stroke, bracing your cervix. Thrumming and dripping wet. Another groan of his name.

The rhythm sank in, strangled moans trapped- your breathing wild against his ear. His thrusts swinging all the way back until they gutted you. Over and over. “Feels. So. GOOD -!” His hand covering your mouth, noting that the owner of the house was just next door and the other two at the end of the hall. Simon’s place supposed to be on the couch downstairs surrounded by Soap’s army memorabilia. Not right there, balls deep inside of you. Loving every second.

Cherishing every inch of you, kissing you in the moment to stay quiet so he could remain there for a while longer. So he may get some sleep, for the first time in a week.

Before you know it, his hand anchored around your ankles- spreading them to hook better. You’ve never moaned so loud in your life. Even echoing off the walls of the room. “Fuck it…” He was too far gone to care what the boys heard or thought. He had been thinking about that moment since he met you, looking so delectable with his cock hammering into you. Taking him so well.

You didn’t know if he would ever tire out, another rush of adrenaline and exhaustion swept over your limp body- numb to anything other than where his thighs slammed against your own and how raw you were going to in the morning.

Your legs fell, his grip focused at your jaw; leaning over- rubbing against sensitivity deep- and claiming your lips in a ravenous kiss that had your head spinning more than before.

Hands falling to your hips, thrusts sloppy as you tightened once again. “Where can I- ,” Drunk on how he tasted, your legs locked around his body.

“Inside,” Your hand found the base of his hair at Simon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Warmth spread downwards as your nails dug into his toned back and neck alike. A thick groan filled the air- enough to become addicted.

Neither of you panted, thriving in the silence. He savoured being hilted inside you, careful not to crush you beneath him. Hot breath spanning your collarbone. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve wan’ed to do that…”

You felt so small against him, so yearned for. No face covering on his end, no boundaries. Laid bare to him and he wanted you anyway.

Fingers stroked at his thick hair, “Same, Si…”

Neither of you knew who fell victim to slumber first.

The morning came around, the boys had looked proud of themselves… too proud, too giddy. Especially Johnny.

“I think the gutters need check’ng, heard some weird noise last nigh’,” You’ve never threatened Johnny’s mohawk before but that day you grew close.

Price even had a glint of mischief in those clear eyes of his, “Vampires common in Scotland?” You didn’t check your neck, too caught up in the heat the previous night.

Gaz had a smirk on his face, “Not from what I know of, sir…”

Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.

______

masterlist

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…

[inkbybambi]

soap has a piss kink, but not in the way you would think.

he doesn’t want you to piss on him, though he certainly wouldn’t deny the opportunity. more so that he likes watching you pee. he’ll follow you to the bathroom like an obedient puppy, sit at your feet while your panties lay by your ankles. he’ll squish his cheek right up against your knee and spread your legs, gazing lovingly at his favorite part of you. it makes you uncomfortable, at first, trying to press your knees together to hide him from your view. but he's stubborn in the way he's stubborn about how he takes his coffee, in the way he makes you kiss his cheek before he leaves for the day.

so you relent and spread your legs, feel the warm flow of piss as soap’s eyes dilate, watching with rapt fascination. you don’t get it, you mumble to him as he reaches for the toilet paper to wipe you dry. all he does is press a fond kiss to your knee and helps you up, panties snug on your waist when he’s done.

it becomes a habit to go with you to the bathroom when he’s home. when he doesn’t immediately get up to go with you, you’ll wait, hand outstretched. it becomes a comfort, that he’ll be with you no matter what. you miss him when he’s away, the spot on your knee where he would press himself seemingly colder than the rest of your body.

—

you start to take videos for him. you feel a bit silly, a bit dirty in a way that scrapes at your brain unpleasantly, but you’d do anything for him so you take a deep breathe before you start, and then click record. it’s awkward, at first, getting the angle correct. making sure your arm wasn’t in the way, that it wasn’t focused only on the toilet itself.

it took a few tries but when you were finally satisfied with it, the lighting and the volume just right, you send it off to him with trembling fingers, heart rabbiting as you wait for him to reply. you don’t know why you’re so nervous, he was the one that started this.

you didn’t have to wait long, a little heart reaction on your video followed by so many heart emojis, you had to scroll to reach the bottom. you giggle, heat flooding your cheeks at the caps locked praise, absolutely chuffed with his reaction.

as you wait for him to get home, you bite at your nail, suddenly shy about what you’ve done. he’s quick to abate the worries you didn’t even have a chance to voice when he comes in, large paws cradling your face so sweetly, pressing kisses across the bridge of your nose and cheeks, finally melding his mouth with yours to swallow your happy sounds.

“ah love ye so much,” he presses his adoration into your skin, burning like a brand, warm like the sun. “ah don’t know what ah did to deserve ye,” he says, awe laced into each word.

you wrap your arms around his neck to cradle him close, nails scratching affectionately at the nape of his neck. “i love you too,” you whisper into his skin, burying any reservations you may have had left into the confession, feeling like you swallowed a star with how he crushes you back.

—

it’s dark when you wake, the glow-in-the-dark stars faint on the ceiling. you’re not meant to be up this early, and you pout a bit into your pillow when your attempt to fall back asleep doesn’t work. soap’s arm is secure around your waist, an anchor in the black of the room.

“johnny,” you whisper, shaking his arm as you try to wriggle from his grip. you need to pee and you’d rather do it in the bathroom.

“johnny,” you whine, when he doesn’t show any sign of waking up. now that you’ve thought about how badly you need to pee, you can’t stop thinking about it, making it worse.

“ugh!” you huff as you shove his arm off you, almost near rolling out of bed in your attempt to free yourself. you stub your toe on his boot next, and you silently curse him as you hobble to the bathroom, hands along the walls as a guide.

you settle yourself on the toilet, sighing as you wait for the warmth to start. but it doesn’t, and you get even more frustrated because you’re sleepy, your toe hurts, and you just want to crawl back into bed with johnny.

“y’abandoned me,” comes from the doorway, the light flickering on as you startle, a noise between a gasp and a whine caught in your throat — not only by the light, but also the pouting scot that slinks his way to the floor between your legs, cheek nestled on your knee.

"s'too bright," you complain, bowing your head to rest on top of his mohawk, flattened by the pillows. he hums in agreement.

"you didn't need to join me," you say, after a moment's silence, and still unable to go to the bathroom.

"ah missed ye," he speaks mostly into your skin, and you relax back against the seat, cradling his face for comfort. "now go 'n be a good lass 'n pee so we can go back to sleep."

you snort softly, and you finally feel the relief of warmth from between your legs, keeping soap close as you slip back into a gentle sort of sleepy consciousness, content to have him there.

"tha's my girl."

[marshmallowdarling]

John Price got the letter early dawn, up just before the sun rises. A habit he and his boys can’t seem to shake after being at war for years, even if they had time to ‘relax’ now. 

John’s arm lazily wrapped around Kyle’s waist as he peers over the younger man’s shoulder to look at the recruit assessment forms with the sound of Simon’s cooking behind them, and the smell makes his mouth water. Food, actual food without the fear of living off rations around the corner, all of them had packed a few more pounds but John told them it was good, healthy weight covering their muscles and fuelling their bodies. 

A knock on the door breaks the soft morning atmosphere and all the men tense up, Johnny even pops his head in the doorframe from around the corner where he was still brushing his teeth. 

John pats Kyle’s waist and gives the others a soft reassuring nod before heading to the door, the others can hear soft muffled voices before John comes back with a letter in his hands and the boys can see the unmistakeable golden imperial seal, one they were all too familiar with. 

All of them had spent hours talking after finding out about the wedding, but a Knight couldn’t refuse an order and an agreement had been put in place after. Keep you safe even through their own emotions.

A few days and a multiple meetings later the boys are trying to tidy up the house, keeping their weapons that were strewn in every room in only a few now to not seem intimidating. The manor had originally came with help but John had let them all go, wanting his own privacy and knowing his boys wanted that too. 

John thought he had more time, way more time since the King hadn’t said anything about the actual wedding date or day or meeting you or your family…. But then you show up at their door with an imperial knight, your bags next to you and a letter in your hands with the golden imperial golden seal and John can tell it’s a marriage certificate without even opening it. 

He snaps into work-mode, his brain going a million miles per hour but his body nods to the Knight and opens the door wider for you to step inside, picking up your heavy luggage like its nothing to bring in after you as he kicks the door closed behind him. 

✮✮✮✮

It’s weird at first for everybody, obviously, but the boys get a big surprise. They had all brainstormed various of ideas on what you would be like, maybe a pompous spoilt brat, or scared out of your mind living with four blood-stained men, or maybe you would fight back and make their life hell but… 

You don’t care…. You *don’t* seem to care about their reputation. Your polite enough, only taking as much as you need, making little conversation but keeping to yourself, seeing that they already had a system. 

They had tried to keep their secret around you, they really did. Not wanting to make you seem like an outsider and not wanting to feel your judgement but all of them get restless. 

Simon was training most of the time with his balaclava on always even thought he had been finally working on letting himself relax a bit after being retired before you came along. 

Kyle was at work pulling more over time, training the recruits harder and before to try and get his frustrations of keeping his emotions at bay out. 

Johnny was at the local blacksmith, forging the same piece of metal over and over again while zoned out, hitting the same piece of hot metal with a cross peen hammer with all of his force. Feeling so pent up he was going to burst. 

And John Price, their ‘General’ who had always seemed to be so collected in every situation for all of them, is hit the worst. Wanting to stay around to make sure you were okay and settling in and he never thought he was a needy man but *Gods* did he seem to have taken for granted the small touches and praised words they all would share, especially since he saw how much it affected *his* boys and everything in him screamed at him to go make sure they were okay. 

Until the secret gets out when you walk into the kitchen late at night, having drank all of the water on your bedside table, to see John on top of Simon. Not having seen Simon’s face with his Balaclava half rolled up to only reveal his lips since it was dark with one a small candle lit. 

John rushes and stumbles over his words to try and say something but Simon stays silent, just wrapping his arms tighter around his captain’s waist almost possessively.  “It’s fine, I don’t know why you think I would care. I already knew.” You say so casually it wipes John out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT?! I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO SAY RAHHHHH AND I WILL FEED YOU MY RAMBLES IF YOU WANT!!!

Also this MIGHT turn into dark content later down the line so please be careful with my profile! Also its 1am, ignore any mistakes.

Tag list (omg look at me mom, ive made it) : @sheep-from-rad

[visionsofmagic]

watching them as they train. ⭒ mk1

—✦requsted by anon.∗ imagine watching liu kang, kenshi, bi han, kuai liang, and tomas working out. you can’t help but ogle them. their muscles straining visibly, they are panting, sweat is rolling off them, THEN feeling them up. how do the guys feel about this?

╰┈➤ tags: spicy, sfw, pet names, sweating, watching, flirting, tattoo, gn!reader, use of y/n, no specific use of gender, boyfriend dynamic, fluff, ‘s all I suppose. ✩ wc: 2.3k ✩ rose’s notes: offf, this one was so spicy to write and I like how I imagined this entirely while reading your request, lol, love ya & thanks for this hot request! hope you all will like, enjoy. [also, changed the aesthetic of requests post, hope this one is prettier. muah!]

✩ liu kang.

being the god of fire, protector of the earthrealm, and having a decent power in his system, he needs to train his muscles, physical strength, and power as well as he does with his mindset. watching him sitting down on the carpet, eyes closed, hands connected while being inside his mind to power it up as if he’s not the most powerful soul in the entire timeline is the thing you do as a habit now, so, it’s not surprising when you find yourself sitting on one of the benches on the training area as he trains alone – no one else, just you and him.

it’s different than watching his peaceful closed eyes, a little smirk on his face from time to time as he knows you’re there to take a sight of his meditation – because he gladly allows you to. it’s different even within the air – it’s too hot to handle and the wind doesn’t help at all because how he has no particular sleeve on his upper part, wearing just pants as he trains with his sharp movements.

muscles getting tighter, sweat running from his neck to his exposed chest, professionalism is as clear as the sun’s rays and you can’t stop thinking about how easily he will use his skillful hands on your body – he’s making you weak by only training and you know that he acknowledges his effects on you, making his training session sharper and more powerful than it is needed as he turns his back, arms move fast, making his back’s muscles go visible to your eyes.

mouth getting wet on its own, your eyes travel from his sweaty hair to his sharp jaw, arms with visible veins, white tattoos covering his arms and a part of his chest beautifully, sweat flowing from there until they reach his abdomen, making you gulp in excitement.

is it wrong to fantasize about a god? you can’t answer, and you don’t care about it either – well, at least, your instincts don’t care because without calculating its outcomes, your legs move on their own as you get up, slowly approaching him. with each step you can hear his deep breaths, and can see his sweats shine under the light of the sun.

he stops at his movements when he feels you near, chest rising up and down still. standing in front of him with warm breaths hitting his hot chest, you can’t help but touch his arms’ tattoos full of sweat – slowly enough to get a warning from his parted lips. “y/n –“

“yes, my lord?”

you can see his eyes narrowing, mind studying the situation and knowing that you will not stop, not after both of your hands happen to be on his chest, rubbing his muscles from time to time and earning another warning from him as he grips your wrists – fingers still playing with his arm muscles, getting wet, “you should stop, I need to train for one more hour, pretty.”

“train with me,” you say, putting a kiss on his exposed chest before turning over, knowing the god of fire, the man of determination, can’t resist your open invitation, and agreeing.

“you will be the death of me, my love,” he says, picking you up in bridal style as he goes to his room – to train with you of course, much hotter this time.

✩ kenshi.

to get back his sword from johnny, and be worthy of his clan once again, kenshi tries his best – so hard to accomplish his aims – he needs to be strong, he knows it, and the knowledge pushes him to train over and over again until he can beat everyone who crosses his way and avoiding him to reach his destination.

and there’s one more reason behind it – having you as his audience. his beloved lover who likes to watch him get a good view of his exposed body, half-naked, showing his muscles off even though he will deny it. he can have his orange training clothes to wear but in that way, he won’t be able to see your parted lips that you bite and lick occasionally, eyes shining as they travel on his body shamelessly, hands move rapidly because of not knowing where to put them because your mind is not working entirely when he winks at you whenever he changes the way he trains – legs, arms, back muscles – doesn’t matter as long as you get heat rushing on your body which he knows so well.

“liked what you see, love?” he will ask, smiling down at you when he takes a break, chest rising up and down as he stands on his foot, hovering over you, teasing because it’s so fun to play with your cute mind.

“u-huh,” you say, looking at his chest and waist covered with sweat rather than his eyes directed at you, “like it so much –“ you add, and to his surprise, you put your hands on his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sit on the bench still, and eyes turning up to find him, “are you doing it for me to like it?” you tease back as your hands move from his waist to his abdomen, feeling his six packs tighten under your fingertips. “cute.”

“not as cute as you, prettiest.”

then, he will make sure you put your hands on his body whenever he takes breaks until he is done with training and takes you into his room, admiring your body the way you do to his. after all, he is such a pleaser that he needs to return the favor.

✩ bi han.

for being the grandmaster of the lin kuei clan, the man who seeks great power, bi han trains a lot – he needs to, he has to.

he never gets exhausted by training with his potent stamina and determination to become the best – the strongest to bring great accomplishments to his clan. also, he never gets tired of having you beside him as he trains after he tells you to watch him closely to see what a true and good training session will look like – well, half truth half lie because it’s not the only reason why he keeps taking you into the area, having you sit down on the carpet, on your knees and watch him – it’s all because of you though, you were the first one who requested to do it and from the way you look at him, his body and mostly muscles with parted pretty lips, he can’t bring himself to train alone when he can your pretty face lighten up with desire of him as he does it.

knowing he does it on purpose, you sit down on the carpet calmly – as much as you can anyway, watching him having only his pants on, ice appearing on his hands until it reaches his elbows, the temperature getting colder but you don’t – it only gets warmer for you when your eyes travel on his torso, chest, shoulders, arms – full of muscles and sweat, getting tighter from time to time with the impact of his hard training. oh, you think, he truly deserves the title of grandmaster.

thighs clenching together, hands getting between your legs, eyes sparkling, and lips getting licked, you know bi han laughs menacingly inside his mind whenever he takes a look at your messy situation – he definitely does it on purpose, doesn’t he?

your question is answered when he cleans his sweat with a towel before sitting in front of you on his knees, hands positioned on his lap, raising an eyebrow he asks, “did you learn anything from my training, y/n?”

nodding, you challenge him by saying, “yeah, I learned how your muscles move so beautifully, sir.”

he chuckles deeply, and letting you do what you wanted to do before, taking you by the wrist, he puts your hand down on his shoulders, “now learn how they feel under your touch, doll. it’s what your hands carve after all.”

instead of saying anything, you use your hand movements as an answer – massaging his rigid muscles on the shoulders, moving from his chest from there until they find his abdomen, full of thick packs, showing his masculinity off so perfectly that you put a kiss on his exposed body, earning a low growl from the man.

“if you keep doing that, I will use your body as my training tool, princess.”

he sounds deep and hot – you’re being a brat. “then, do it.” and he does it in a way you can never imagine before experiencing it.

✩ kuai liang.

he doesn’t mind having your company when he finds alone time to train his abilities to make them reach the highest point; on the contrary, he finds it amusing how you even bring snacks with you as if his training session is a scene coming out of your favorite show – you admit it though, he’s your favorite show to watch because how it cannot be when he has sightworthy attractive and cute features, especially in the training area in which he has nothing on the half of his body – yes, you see it every day and night yet it’s far more different when it comes to seeing him training with his tools to strength himself up.

watching him jumping, crouching, using his knives with long ropes you happen to have on your wrist a night ago, your hand stop in mid-air, not being able to eat a snack because of how your mouth keeps getting wet – the hotness coming from him and hitting you on the face heavily isn’t related to his ability, no, it’s only coming thanks to being so damn attractive right now; all sweaty, breathing heavily and rapidly, movements perfect, gaze he gives to you breathtaking.

“what is it princess?” he will ask, a knowing smile on his face, taking a bottle of water to drink as he sits down beside you, radiating two different kinds of warmness to your body, “I am the one who trains and you seem to be the one with no steady breath.”

his teasing stops when you can’t help yourself and touch the scorpion tattoo on his thick and big arm, moving from there to his shoulder slowly. chuckling, you say as your hands travel on his wet chest and abdomen playfully, “who has no steady breath now handsome?”

“oh?” he holds your wrist, pulling you closer, hot breath hitting your neck when he puts a kiss on there, “when I am finished with the train, you even won’t be able to have a brain to remember how to breathe, pretty.”

✩ tomas.

“what now?” he will ask firstly, trying to find a few excuses to tell after you sit on the ground, smiling widely and telling him you want to watch him as he trains – because, ugh, he knows he will get all shy and missing a few steps, or doing his sessions incorrectly with the effects of having your piercing eyes on him, studying him, literally seeing every move and it makes him a bit nervous because being the cute little boyfriend, tomas wants to be as perfect as he can be in front of you – no one else’s, except his brothers.

his desire to impress you in every way, the situation as possible gives him a bit of sadness when he shows some weakness as he does exercises, you behind him, sitting and watching – oh, he sucks, isn’t he – he will think until the moment he realizes that you don’t watch him train – well, you do, but not with the way he excepts.

your eyes scanning his arm muscles, back, thighs, and hands as if he’s a piece of art with thick and sharp features he has – he can see how you bite your lip from time to time, smiling face is long gone, replaced by the expression of passion and tomas can’t decide which one makes him happier; to realize his not-so-perfect training isn’t understood by you or to witness your greedy gazes as you keep your eyes on him, clearly liking what you see.

being addicted to pleasing you, tomas smiles at himself and without hesitation, he takes his tight sleeveless top off of his body, showing his body underneath it – getting proud when you begin to lick your lips, thighs getting clenched with pure instincts.

even at his shiest moment, he teases you by standing between your legs, holding you by the chin, and making you look into his shining eyes with joy, “you’re quite an admirer, my love, aren’t you?” he asks, leaving you dumb for a moment before you come into your senses, smiling as your palms position on his exposed chest, playing.

it’s his turn to be dumb at the sudden action, “after what I am watching is the most beautiful sight in all realms, of course.” your hands are shameless as they flow on his top, admiring it as a true admirer.

“then let me put on a show only for you, my goddess.”

[the-entitie]

"Just, please... please. I'll beg."

Poly_TF_141 x sex-demon_reader Prt:2

Read part 1 here 》 ....

A_N:... Continuation of the previous! This is part two, and to do with Werewolf Soap going into 'heat' but not the abo kinda heat. Soo, expect more wolf like behavior, and again, the same warnings apply.

CW.|.TW:... Sexual content. Intended male reader. Bottom but Dom reader. Polly-cule TF 141. Religious depictions of demons. Allusion to Reader having an Eating Disorder and the recovery there of. Ghost x Soap x Reader

It had taken some time and effort, but finally, finally, you were OK with the casual emotion that the team shared with one another.

Being a permanent member of the team seemed to help. You even put on weight in the recent months that you've actually fed semi regularly, although it wasn't anywhere near what you should be getting but it was miles better then the months you used to starve through.

Price made sure that any time between missions, there was some form of sexual intention in his team.

Not the hardest thing when all of them have been intemit with each other for years before you joined in with the physical side of things. And Price let you have your fill of him whenever he saw that drop in you again.

But someone else came knocking that night.

A blushing Soap who was leaning heavily on your door frame, looking almost shy for his bulkier body. He hardly says anything as you beckon him in. Eyes still down cast even as he leaves the door ajar and is sitting all but an inch away from you.

"I wan'ed te ask ya if yeh would..." he starts, blush spreading down his neck. "Can ye. I just wanted.."

That's when you felt a pulse of a sweeter emotion, a spiking arousal that was tainted with a primal urge. This absolute need for something so deeply sexual it was practically making your mouth water.

"Your lycanthopic urge?" You question,

"Aye, my heat kinda snuck up on me." He answers with a curt nod. Still not looking at you.

Your fingers find his chin, easily lifting his stubble edged jaw, so he was nose to nose with you.

Soap had dilated pupils, only elipsed by this thin sliver of his irus. Those needs already making his mind want to lean in and chase those lips of yours. Instead, he flicks his eyes back up, that emotion growing thicker, sweeter, with the movement.

"Just please..." he half begs, already so desperate. "Please. I'll beg. I'll go away if ye don't wanna, but I just.."

"Ok, I will lend you help."

You've hardly gotten the sentence out before Soap jumps you. Stealing breathless kiss after breathless kiss.

Guiding your hands to his skin, slipping them under his clothes, and soaking in the warmth with your skin on his. He gets so touch starved, so sensitive to it, when he's like this.

You near fucking his throat with a long split toungue isn't helping him think any more coherently. He tried to ignore the gentle tangle of your hands as you started getting him undressed. Body more demonic with the crackling desires streaming from Johnny's need for intimacy.

"You still got your mind in one peace there lad?"

A deep rumble follows from the door, Ghost standing there with his head tilted. Commenting, "Dumb Mutt just got one thing on his mind."

"You came to watch or pass along something or another."

"Oh, I wanna watch."

Simon crosses the distance from the door to your bed in two quick strides, fingers gliding in the panting Soap's hair. Pulling him back by the grip he has on the werewolf's Mohawk.

"Mainly to see this one don't hurt ya, hun. But to see if yah would need help."

Johnny rolls his hips against your thigh, toungue lulling out past his fangs and bruised lips. Eyes unfocused as he tries to keep his body still while miserably failing.

"Can get a bit one tracked and forget who's helpen 'em. And Price warned me yah got a habit of ignoring yourself."

"Acceptable. Just help me strip him before he cums in his pants."

"Alright hun."

You end up kneeling with Soap, hopelessly humping against your thighs with you stretching out your back so you can reach for Ghost as he leans back. Your hands trace over the fat of his thighs before using your tail to wrap around Johnny's waist, keeping a firm grip to help him actually get what he wants.

His cock already painfully hard, pulsing with each beat his heart had. He was happy to be pulled to where you wanted him, all but panting into your nape as he ruts up against you.

It's always that first breach that knocks the breath from you, but Soap sits still after he's fully sheathed. Just trying to feel as much as he can with skin against skin as that lusty haze fills his mind.

When he does start moving, it's at a brutal pace. Hardly pulling out before shoving back in all the way. Jolting your whole body.

That thickly suffocating emotion had your throat vibrating in the closest thing your kin could produce to a purr. Easily keeping him steady and against you with your tail. You could feel his back tense and ripple with each roll of his hips, with your tail snugly against his waist as he licks along any skin he can.

You heal too fast for him to see the hackies he's working along your shoulders, but the darker marks of his teeth do stick just a bit longer.

It's Simon who traces the rivets of your ram like horns, eyes watching the hitch in your breath. Fingers ever so gentle as he traces all the dents and scrapes along them; careful to rub his palms down the curve against your skull. And you can taste the lust that's just as strong from him.

When Soap had cum with a snarl, as he bared his teeth against your spine, you could feel how the tired feeling was pulsing along the need to keep going. He was hard and needy as he couldn't set a rhythm with the fatigue settling along.

He must have tried to get off before getting the courage to ask for your help.

Feeling a bit sorry for the werewolf, you roll him over; turning to face Simon as you hover over Johnny's body. Watching as Soap mouths over Simon's dick through his boxers, those sex blown eyes watching him.

When you started the roll off your hips, against the shivering Soap who moans egging you on; you saw Ghost lift his gaze. Watching you ride the other with ease.

"Shit." Ghost comments,

He hefts himself up to his knees, nearly covering Johnny's face with his crotch. The wolf didn't seem to mind. Just mouthing and licking at all he could reach. Soaking more of the fabric with his spit.

"Price gave this view no justice when he told me 'bout it."

Redoubled your efforts as more warmth flooded you, but Soap didn't soften. He only meets every roll down with a thrust up.

"Don't know why any of you enjoy it, and not the action."

Johnny is whimpering under Ghost, body trembling in over stimulation. Mind lost in the throws of the absolute pleasure you're helping pump through his very soul.

"More ta do with ya looking like yah enjoying yaself then the act alone."

"You have to be none-"

Those fingers dance over your horns, finally pulling a quiet noise from you. He leaned into you, sharing the quick hiffs of air you're both taking.

"That," Ghost repeats the action. You don't moan this time, but the effect is still evident. "Is what we enjoy of this."

"Prove it."

"Gladly hun." Before his eyes roll back into his skull, "Fuck... watch the teeth soldier."

Soap had pulled his boxers off with just his teeth, getting to his dick. At the comment, Johnny bared his teeth against the intimate skin of Simon's inner thigh. So close to him that the danger runs his blood just that bit hotter.

And for all that Ghost likes the danger, that bit of pain, he doesn't actually want to bite him. And not nearly as hard as he bites at you.

"He will tire out soon, just a warning."

Simon clasps at your horns, pulling you closer by them.

"Not for long hun, he'll be up and wanting more in no time." He presses his lips against yours, mumbling with a smirk, "and I wanna tag team him when he does."

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Daddy!Dom!Johnny x sub!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. Fingering. Unprotected vaginal sex. Morning sex. Praise kink. Degradation kink. Getting caught by Taeyong. Cock warming themes. Exhibitionism themes. Creampie. Fem!oral. Hands free male orgasm. MLM behavior.

| wc: 2.9k

aurora's note: prompted by this anon! <3 this ended up being WAY longer than intended lmao

Johnny was the first to wake up, his hands wandering around your body, pulling you closer to him so that your back was flush with his chest. You guys promised that you were going to fall asleep early last night. You’d been out late walking around the city while talking and enjoying each other’s company before he would have to leave for tour within the next few weeks, but he said that it was important to get to bed early and wake up early in order to do some work. He was his own worst enemy in that case. Every time you offered to walk back home, he kept going along the path you guys were on. When you did make it home, you tried to climb into bed almost immediately, but Johnny insisted on talking for another few hours while cuddling with you. So when it got too late to consider the idea of falling asleep early, Johnny promised that you two would get to sleep in at least. He also lied about that.

His wandering hands were enough to gently coo you awake. With a quiet, tired groan, you rolled your hips and opened your eyes, hoping that was enough to get Johnny to release you, but it had the opposite effect. Upon squirming in his grip, you felt Johnny’s morning wood pressing against your ass.

“You can’t be for real,” you grumbled into the pillows.

“Sorry, baby, you just look too cute…” His breath was hot on your ear while he grinded his erection into your body. “Can I?”

“What happened to needing to get to work early today?”

“Work can wait.”

Honestly, you didn’t need much more convincing than that. Ever since Johnny told you about tour, the two of you were fucking like a pair of rabbits, constantly touching each other, begging for each other no matter the situation. Even in public sometimes he would shoot you a look and then you’d end up bent over a bathroom sink with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a rough pace. So you obliged him, slowly hitching up your left leg in order to provide more space for Johnny to push the fabric of your shorts covering your pussy to the side, his index finger massaging your clit gently so that he could first get you as worked up as he was. It worked. You were exhausted, yes, but you could bear the thought of being his pillow princess for the morning, allowing him to use you however he wanted… so long as you didn’t have to roll over or move a single bit. If he wanted to get his dick wet so early in the morning, he needed to do the heavy lifting.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear. “Keep quiet for me, okay? Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nodded vaguely just before he pressed his middle finger into you, all the way down to the bottom knuckle as a test to see if you were wet enough for him yet. You weren’t. But that wasn’t anything Johnny couldn’t remedy. His finger continued to slowly work its way in and out of your hole, his wrist twisting slightly so that he could roll his thumb over your clit.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.”

You mewled when he curled his finger into your sweet spot. “J…”

“I know, I know, just let me have my fun first.”

Johnny knew how to get your riled up. The praise in your ear, his lips drifting over your skin tantalizingly slow, his fingers pleasuring you so well that you had no choice than to hide your face in the pillows so that you could stay quiet like he said. The boys had a terrible habit of walking into rooms unannounced. It didn’t matter if they knew you were playing with one of them, or if they knew that the boys were playing with each other, they would walk in without a second thought, interrupting anything and everything just for fun, or due to their obliviousness. If you showed any signs of being awake, someone would likely come to bother you and Johnny.

“You ready for me, darling?”

“Stop teasing me,” you grumbled, fisting the sheets tightly.

“But it’s so fun.”

Despite the entertainment you were providing him, Johnny was just as eager to fuck you, so he finally gave you some reprive by pulling his finger out of you and using the wetness that came along with it to slicken up his hard cock as he fished it out of his pajama pants. Johnny then held your left leg steady while it was curled up towards your torso, and with a deep breath and a grunt, Johnny’s tip found your slick entrance almost immediately.

“Remember to be quiet, yeah?”

You nodded again— But right when you thought you were prepared, Johnny purposefully shoved his entire length into you with one smooth motion of his hips. You woke up completely. The moan you let out wasn’t into the pillows like it should have been, and you certainly weren’t quiet.

Johnny chuckled in your ear. “Sorry, princess, must’ve gotten ahead of myself.”

“F-fuck… Fuck…”

He thrusted in and out of you slowly about three times before stopping. “You’re too tight, baby, relax.”

It wasn’t for the lack of trying or anything! He was being a dick on purpose in order to wake up the whole house to the sound of you two fucking, and it only occurred to you after he started fucking you so deeply.

After Johnny released your leg so that you could loosen up, he continued fucking you. His hands moved to your hips to keep you steady. The pace was just fast enough to squeak the bed frame, but not so fast that either of you would get close to the edge just yet. It felt good to be filled by him, despite how sudden it had been and how tired you were, and you felt satisfied knowing that you’d get off and stay in bed all day while Johnny and the other boys had to go to work.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he complimented with a smug chuckle. “So fucking pretty. And my perfect girl who spreads her legs for me whenever I ask nicely.” He swiveled his hips to hit another sensitive spot. “Just like that—” He bit down on your shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

The sound of footsteps echoing throughout the second floor hallway caught your attention suddenly. It wasn’t your fault. Johnny was being loud with all his dirty talk in your ear, of course someone was curious about the creaking bed and the whispering coming from his bedroom. You hoped that he would’ve heard it too and stopped for just a moment in order to trick whoever it was wandering around that nothing was going on, that you two were still sleeping so they shouldn’t have tried opening the door. But no. Johnny continued to fuck you at a brutal pace, completely distracted by the tight grip of your walls around his length to think twice about the approaching footsteps.

“J, someone’s coming,” you warned him frantically.

“Pretend you’re asleep.”

“What!”

“Close your eyes.”

And right then, the door flew open and you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed the reality of what was going on in the bed would go unnoticed by the intruder. You hoped that Johnny’s stupid act would actually work and you’d successfully not get teased for the rest of the day by the other boys.

“Johnny-hyung, do you want to get coffee before we—” Taeyong stopped in his tracks. “Oh,” he whispered nervously, realizing that he’d been too loud. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny reassured him with a whisper. He was trying to keep up the appearance that you were asleep, but it was just downright corny to you. “You wanna get coffee before work?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.” He slowly thrusted into you again, catching you off guard, nearly making you moan again. “Just give me a few minutes to finish fucking her.”

And then there was silence. What did he say? Did he actually… What was the point in making you stay quiet and pretend to be sleeping if he was just going to announce it like that? You kicked his ankles under the sheets. In retaliation, Johnny grabbed your hips and began fucking into you with short yet rough thrusts which took your breath away, forcing your eyes open while you grabbed onto his arm in a desperate attempt to escape him, but he was far too strong, and he was having a blast fucking you in front of Taeyong who was still standing in the doorway, speechless. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. Hell, he’d participated before. The shock of knowing that Johnny had been lodged inside of you throughout their entire conversation meanwhile you were pretending to be asleep was so different from anything else Taeyong had accidentally walked in on before.

When he tried to back out to give you some privacy, Johnny told him, “Don’t stop watching.” Taeyong stayed. He bit his lip and trembled slightly while he watched Johnny rail you in bed, moans dripping from your tongue consistently, pleas for Johnny to slow down going ignored.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear, “then I’m gonna make him clean up my mess before we leave.”

You shivered at the thought. Your core tightened, a sudden urge to approach your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Johnny hissed in response to your walls tightening around him.

“He’s hard for you, baby, look at him.”

Your gaze readjusted onto Taeyong once more to find him palming himself over his pants “inconspicuously” in the hopes that Johnny wouldn’t tell him to stop, which thankfully he didn’t, but he wasn’t allowed to fully touch himself either.

“Gonna fill you up… Fuck…” He kissed the sensitive spot just behind your ear while he picked up his pace.

His hand reached around your body to squeeze between your thighs so that his index and middle fingers could return to flicking your clit quickly. You threw your head back against his shoulder. There really wasn’t any point in trying to be quiet anymore. You’d been caught, the boys were likely to find out on their own even if Johnny didn’t immediately go to brag to them about it. So you let it all go. You moaned Johnny’s name loudly, clinging to him in the hopes that he’d fuck his cock deeper into you while he chased your orgasm and sent you spiraling into one of your own.

“Please, daddy, may I cum?”

“Dirty girl, princess. Cumming on my cock while our Taeyongie watches. You want him to eat you out that badly, baby? Overstimulating your swollen clit, fucking my cum back into you with his tongue…”

“Please, please, please—”

“Hold it.”

You gasped and hunched forward in his grasp, trying to get his fingers away from your clit because they were the main contributing factor to the orgasm in your stomach that you really, truly couldn’t hold back despite Johnny’s demands.

When Johnny’s thrusts became more sporadic and his fingers struggled to find a rhythm, you realized that he was close, too. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, fuck, fuck, fuck—” And with another few deep thrusts, Johnny came inside of you. “Cum, baby.”

You immediately let go with a satisfied moan while your legs tensed up and your whole body spasmed through a strong orgasm.

Johnny panted as he caught his breath. “Good girl…” And while he was still twitching inside of you, he grabbed a handful of your ass a bit possessively. When he was done, Johnny slowly pulled out of you, then he flipped the covers off your bodies, revealing how lazy the two of you really were by not even going through the trouble of removing your clothes before fucking so early in the morning. “Taeyongie,” he called out endearingly.

You rolled onto your back, also trying to catch your breath.

“Come here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicked between you and Johnny, wondering if it was safe to approach or if he should have made a run for it. If he tried that, one of the Doms in the house would’ve gotten their hands on him regardless. So Taeyong stopped touching himself before warily approaching the bed. You spotted Johnny combing his long hair out of his face while sitting up, grinning at Taeyong who kneeled on the mattress.

“Clean her up for me while I get ready for work.”

Taeyong eyed you. “Can I—”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly. He wanted you clean, he didn’t want Taeyong to get off. If he was going to interrupt your morning, then he would get to suffer without an orgasm. “I'll be back.” Then oh-so-casually Johnny slid out of bed and strolled into the adjourning bathroom.

Taeyong got to work before you could brace yourself. What was it with the boys and wanting to surprise you all morning? He put his hands on both sides of your waist before pulling you towards him so that your head was no longer resting on the pillows and you couldn't escape to cover yourself with the sheets. Taeyong licked his fingers. The shower in the bathroom started running.

He regained your attention by collecting Johnny’s cum on the inside of your thighs on the tips of his fingers, then he pushed three of his fingers into you. Your back arched off the bed, hands immediately finding Taeyong’s long dyed hair, tugging on the strands to urge him forward so that his tongue could start lapping up the mixture of juices between your legs. He moaned at the taste. Your wetness, Johnny’s cum, your cum… It was all being cleaned up by Taeyong’s tongue laying flat against your skin, drifting inwards towards your entrance where his fingers were still forcing Johnny’s cum back into you. When everything was cleaned from your thighs, Taeyong began kitten licking your clit.

“Yongie—”

He groaned happily in response to the nickname and the tug in his hair.

“Too… Too sensitive… Fuck…”

But he was given a task that he couldn’t disobey, and he wanted to do such a good job, not just for Johnny but for you too. He loved the way you shook against him. Your legs closing in around his head, your fingers desperately playing with his hair, hips bucking around in a very desperate attempt to escape his overstimulating actions. That only encouraged him further. The light licks against your clit and the soft pushing of his fingers into your pussy alternated into his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and sucking harshly on it while curling his fingers deep inside of you.

“Please,” you begged helplessly.

The shower shut off.

Taeyong’s efforts doubled in speed, hurtling you towards another orgasm. No, no, no, Johnny didn’t say anything about that— He wouldn’t be happy if he found you cumming on Taeyong’s tongue and fingers. But nothing deterred Taeyong. You watched him with pleading eyes as he focused on you while grinding his hips into the mattress, probably trying to get some kind of friction to alleviate his unbearable erection.

“Taeyong—”

“You better not be cumming.”

The tone of voice coming from the bathroom doorway halted his actions immediately and pulled away with a devastated moan that had you second guessing if Johnny was speaking to you or…

Taeyong’s face was so red.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to better gauge the situation. In front of you, Taeyong was adjusting his pants uncomfortably, his eyes crossed, and gentle moans falling from his lips. As your gaze dropped, you saw a wet spot forming in Taeyong’s pants. No… It wasn’t possible? Was it?

Johnny walked forward, a towel hanging low on his hips while his wet hair dripped water down his back and onto the wood floors. He tsked his tongue, disappointed. “Did I ruin your orgasm?”

Taeyong nodded silently.

You’d never seen Taeyong cum hands free before— Hell, no one had even mentioned it before, you didn’t know it was something he was capable of. Telling by the look on his face, he didn’t know either.

Johnny cupped his hand under Taeyong’s chin, forcing him to look up with shame and embarrassment radiating off of him. “Give me a taste.” He said it like it was an offer rather than a demand before he began kissing Taeyong passionately, swallowing all of Taeyong’s desperate moans and reveling in the way Taeyong kissed him harder and more passionately in the hopes of getting more relief following his ruined orgasm; However, Johnny pulled away with a grin, leaving Taeyong untouched. “You should go change. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

You and Taeyong shared a quick glance, both of you disappointed in the fact that Johnny was purposefully ending your playful morning with Taeyong’s ruined orgasm and your edge, Johnny’s cum still seeping out of you. Reluctantly, Taeyong stood. His erection was still prominent in his pants, poor thing. You wanted to take pity on him and help him out, but Johnny was keeping a close eye on the two of you, making sure Taeyong left without stealing another taste of you or getting himself off. John smiled at you. You slumped back down on the bed, limbs sprawled out of exhaustion.

“Meanie,” you croaked.

Johnny chuckled while walking back into the bathroom. He was clearly enjoying the idea of having something new to tease Taeyong with.

[rejectedbytheempty]

from the dirt we rise, ch. 3

pairing: farmer!john price x reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.1k

cw: mentions of blood, vague body shaming (not john)

synopsis: when your car breaks down in the middle of the english countryside, a tall, dark stranger comes to your rescue

ch. 1

when you got upstairs soap had already set your bags in a spare room, though you noticed that they hadn’t been snooped in, probably ghost’s doing.

nathan was sitting on the bed huffing loudly, having thrown his luggage on the floor in exhaustion after going up the stairs. he didn’t say anything, just gave you a glaring side eye and went back to his huffing and puffing. the room was.. nice? like genuinely nice.

it seriously could be a picture on some teenage girl’s cottage core bedroom inspo pinterest board. which is not something you thought you’d ever say about an adult man’s decorating style. he had delicate flower print bedsheet, sheer curtains with lace trim, an antique dresser, and cream colored wallpaper.

“this room is nice, isn’t it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

nathan just glanced at you, “it’s creepy. and this bed is too hard.” you just rolled your eyes when he turned back to go through his luggage to grab his phone.

“right, well, i’m going to head downstairs, help them get dinner ready. you can stay up here, if you want.”

nathan just grumbled an affirmative, his eyes glued to his screen. you made your way down the creaking stairs, now quite sure that you

couldn’t get a drink of water in the middle of the night without alerting the whole house.

“how’s the room for you? need anything?” john asked, hearing you coming around the bend to the kitchen.

“it’s beautiful, actually,” you said, a grin on your face.

soap laughed, “didnae peg the big guy to be an interior decorator then?”

you shook your head, “no, actually, i didn’t.”

john just waved johnny off, “i’m not an interior decorator, i just had some stuff laying around the house, you know?” when he turned around to grab a towel off the counter, johnny gave you a pointed look as if to signal that he was only telling a half-truth.

you giggled slightly, then muffled it behind your hand when john turned back around. he eyed both of you apprehensively but returned to the stove.

“what are we making for dinner?” you asked.

“i was thinking potato soup, if that’s alright with you?” john asked, pulling a sack of potatoes from beside the door and hefting them onto the counter.

“is there anything i can do to help?” you asked.

“och, no, cannae make a lady such as yerself get her hands dirty” soap said, making you laugh again, blushing slightly.

“you can help peel the potatoes?” john offered. you nodded, taking a knife from him, then picking up a potato, you started peeling along with price and soap.

“where’s simon, by the way?” you asked, suddenly wondering where the masked behemoth of a man had gone. it’s strange how well he was able to disappear since he was such a big man, seems like it’d be the opposite. though, you suppose, that was his job for however many years, hard to break the habit of being stealthy.

“he’s checking on the animals for me” john answered. he and johnny were going noticeably faster than you, and you tried to pick up the pace.

“animals? you mean you have some here at the farm?” you asked. “some chickens, a few pigs, and a couple cows”

he answered, “if you’d like, i can show you around tomorrow morning?”

“that’d be wonderful! tha- shit!” you cried out as your knife slipped and you sliced deep into your hand.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, i’m so sorry” you said, cradling your hand to your stomach, watching helplessly as blood rushed to the surface of the cut.

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you don’t have anything to be sorry for” john said, rushing to your side with a towel, taking your hand in his and pressing the towel onto your hurt hand.

“i’m gonna get the first aid kit” johnny said hurriedly as he rushed off into the other room.

the room spun slightly, and you wobbled into john while trying to keep yourself steady, “sorry” you muttered.

“it’s okay, stop apologizing” he said gruffly, leading you to the couch. you sat down and he maneuvered your other hand on top of where his was a second ago, “keep pressure on this, alright?” you just nodded, deciding to focus on holding the towel rather than the faint ringing in your ears. you closed your eyes, willing the nausea to go away.

after a while of keeping pressure on your wound, john found it okay to take it off as the bleeding had ceased. johnny brought over the kit, which was a metal box with a red cross symbol on it, and a bottle of whisky.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what’s that for? cleaning the wound?”

johnny laughed and shook his head, “it’s for yer courage, lass, dinnae wanna waste a good whisky on yer hand.”

he fished a bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of the metal box and showed it to you, “this is for cleaning the wound, aye?”

you just looked to john who nodded, “he’s right. the cut is big enough that we’ll probably have to stitch it up, and i find that it’s better when your senses are a bit dulled.”

he grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet and walked back over to pour the whisky. he offered it to you, “i’m not gonna force you to take it, but i think it might do you some good.”

you hesitated for a moment and then grabbed the drink from him. you paused for a moment and then threw it back, the alcohol hitting the back of your throat. you coughed at the sensation, making both men laugh.

“good, ain’t it?” johnny said with a toothy grin.

you grimaced but nodded, “strong” was all you could get out.

“now’s the hard part, you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?” john said, sinking to your level, his dark brown eyes had softened as they looked in yours.

you swallowed thickly but nodded, “yes, sir.” he smiled softly and started opening the bottle of peroxide.

“ye want to hold onto my hand, bonnie?” you looked to johnny, who had sat beside you on the couch with an outstretched hand. wordlessly, you took his hand with your unharmed one and squeezed it appreciatively.

soap maybe regretted his offer after john poured the peroxide onto your hand, finding the tips of his fingers had gone bloodless from you squeezing the life out of him. he seemed to be having a worse time of it than you, he was barely holding back numerous curse words from spilling out.

“see? all done” john said as he gently dabbed at the wound. you nodded weakly.

“you’re doing so good,” he said in a softer voice, brushing your hair behind your ear. it was actually embarrassing how quickly that made you flush.

“stitches next, alright? you need to take a break or anything?” he asked. he looked so earnest, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time nathan had ever looked at you like that, maybe never.

“i.. i’m fine, you can keep going, thank you” you said, hurriedly.

he nodded and got to work, moving quickly with the needle like he had done this many times before. he probably had, now that you were thinking about it, ended up in some desolate place with just the stuff on his back and some kind of bullet wound. and here you were, complaining and whining about getting stitches in a nice, warm house after you accidentally cut yourself while peeling potatoes.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make this into such a big deal,” you said as he finished.

the scot breathed a sigh of relief when you let go of his hand, shaking it about to get the blood flowing again. “och, nonsense lass, nothing to be sorry for. it was a nasty cut, think that any one of us might’ve reacted worse than you, aye?” johnny comforted you.

“johnny’s right, no sense in apologizing for things you ought not be sorry for.”

“so-“ you stopped yourself before you apologized again.

“alright, thank you, then.” both men’s faces brightened.

“ah, anytime, bonnie.” “of course.”

after john finished wrapping it in gauze you heard the creak of the stairs. you looked over to see nathan coming down the steps, seeming like he had gotten over his temper tantrum. his eyebrows furrowed when he looked over at you three,

“what the hell happened?”

“i.. cut myself when i was peeling potatoes.”

“god, well, here, let me see” he said, walking up to you and grabbing your injured hand. he twisted it back and forth sharply trying to see the injury through the gauze, making you cry out in pain. “hey! be gentle with her, i don’t want you to rip her stitches.” john said, quickly rising to his feet.

“i was just trying to look at it, i didn’t hurt you, right baby?” nathan asked you. you looked between the two men and could only stammer out an incomprehensible response.

“speak up” nathan said.

john stepped closer to him, “don’t talk to her like that.”

johnny quickly stepped between the two, sensing that this argument was going to just get worse and end with someone in the hospital. “let’s just calm down, don’t wanna do anything we’ll regret, aye?” he looked pointedly at nathan.

just that moment, simon walked in the door, peeling off his muddy boots before he looked over at the spectacle in the living room.

“what the hell is going on here?” he asked, immediately straightening up, his eyes narrowing. if nathan thought that he could maybe take on john, or johnny, he was sure he couldn’t take on simon, so he withered under simon’s unabashed glare.

“it was just a misunderstanding” johnny explained, which nathan nodded along vigorously to. seeming satisfied, simon just huffed and continued stripping off his muddied outerwear.

ghost, soap, and john all finished peeling the potatoes, though they made you swear you’d never go near a knife again. something that you agreed to readily, you needed a break from sharp things, for at least a little while.

you couldn’t imagine how things would have gone if you were by yourself when it happened. or even if nathan was there, he didn’t seem much help and he even ended up gripping your hand a bit too hard later, something that got another silencing glare from simon.

once john had finished the soup, he ladled it out into bowls and set them onto the delicately decorated table. you bit back another comment on him being an interior decorator, guessing he had been teased enough by johnny and simon.

“it looks delicious, thank you” you said, picking up your spoon.

“i wouldn’t thank me until you’ve tried it” he said, taking his place at the table.

“dinnae be putting yerself down cap’n, besides, not easy to mess up this soup.”

“well, soap, i’m sure price can do anything he puts his mind to” ghost said, his eyes crinkling with a smile, he had taken his mask off to eat, revealing a face that was ruggedly handsome, especially because it was covered in scars, a particularly large one slashed through his lips.

john just shook his head at them and started eating, you followed suit. it was delicious, almost worth stabbing your hand for, really.

nathan hardly touched the stuff, however, claiming that he wanted to stay in shape, and nothing so fattening as potatoes and cheese. he gave you a pointed look as you finished your bowl, making the food settle like a stone at the bottom of your stomach.

john stood up from the table suddenly, the chair scraping on the floor harshly, “alright, that’s enough of that. i’ve tolerated your comments and actions long enough but that’s the final fucking straw. you’re in my house now, and in my house we are kind and respectful to women,” john said, pointing an accusatory finger at nathan, whose face turned a bright shade of red.

“i don’t care if it’s your fucking house, that’s my fucking girl that you’ve been basically flirting with all day, and you know what? i’m done with it. i’m done with it all. i won’t take this disrespect anymore. get up, we’re leaving. i’ll call my dad to come pick us up,” nathan said, pulling up at your arm.

you stayed put, looking around the table, simon raised his eyebrows to you, as if silently asking for the signal to take care of him. you looked from nathan’s angry face to john’s stern expression back to simon and shook your head.

standing up, you turned to nathan, who looked mildly relieved that you had listened to him. “nathan, i have something to tell you.”

he rolled his eyes, exasperated, “can it wait?”

you forced down a scream, “no, it can’t.”

he sighed, “okay, spit it out then.”

“i’m breaking up with you.”

a/n: thank you so much for your support on the past two chapters!!! i’m sorry this took so long and was so rushed, i’ve just been so busy w exams and holidays and work and i just forced myself to sit down and finally write this part. so here it is!

side note: i honestly hc that john watches hgtv or some variation bc one time it was the only thing palatable on tv. he denies ever watching anything of the sort but best believe he can outdo martha stewart.

taglist:

@the-disaster-in-waiting

@night-girl-301

@darkangel4121

@valeissocute

@dneicjefx

@liidiaaag

@lilynotdilly

@sleep101

@yellow-cat

@snailss

@nellabear

@eternallyvenus

@bookishthoughtss

@lunerbitch

@horny-bish

@sunna-fangirls

@nexthyperfix

@princeofnonsense

@supernova2205

@beebeechaos

@appl3-0rchard

@shadowwolf8002

@mismatchsposts

@dragonbe-writing

[four-dogteeth]

Simon “Ghost” Riley

•Ghost was a dumb nickname. He wore the stupid mask his brother used to scare him with as a recruit. It was supposed to be a way to reclaim it, he’d guess, but also secretly to hide the little scars on his face. A few snake bites from his fathers abuse he hated to see and the uneven split of his cheekbone from a bottle broken onto his face. It was a stupid argument and he hates that the stupid scar always reminds him of it.

•He cant stand to see his body after Roba. That’s when the mask started to really matter to him. They just made it so much worse. He was hung on a meathook and the scars Still get shocks of pain all the time. They performed a fucking penectomy. He can’t stand to see his own body and remember the pain.

•Expanding on the penectomy. It nearly ended his life. Price and him have an unbreakable bond because he pulled strings to keep that entirely off the records. When Simon tried to kill himself out of shame, Price fucking saved his life and did everything in his power to get him back on the team. That was what saved his life.

•His family being murdered is what really inspired him to adopted “Ghost”. To wholly embrace it. No one knows his real name, not anyone he doesn’t trust, even if his family is already dead. He wants to protect the people he cares about a lot.

•He’s become a bit of a chainsmoker. It’s nasty and he tries to hide his addiction, and often actually calls himself disgusting for the habit. But he can’t quit bringing a cigarette to his lips.

•He has to say Soap is his best friend. The banter comes natural with him and he finds himself being more honest with the guy than he means to be. Sometimes he can’t help it and he just blurts out something insane like “my parents are both dead.” Soap would go quiet and kind of fidget. He gets this weird look on his face, almost gentle. “Yeah?“

•Often jokes about the two closest people in his life are named John.

•He likes television. It’s stupid and boring and none of it is good. He doesn’t admit to enjoying any shows. But whenever there is one available he definitely has it on and he won’t admit it, but you’ll catch him watching it.

•He has a flat, but he doesn’t go home often for leave. He tries to avoid the place entirely, actually. It’s barely decorated, very little furniture. Probably not even a drop of food in the place. On holidays, the team actually has him come home with them. Usually he goes with Johnny, but he’s joined the others, too. Their families are usually delighted to meet him.

•Sometimes it does make him miss his family. He’s a beautiful guest, he’s polite and engages in conversation. He even takes his mask off if they really insist. But it’s really bittersweet because inside he misses his family. The rage of what was taken from him is hard to ignore.

•Johnny is special. His mom is a delight and they have a charming home. His father is a little colder, but not entirely cruel. He uses a phrase Simon is not familiar with - buffty. When he tries to ask Johnny, the other won’t explain. He could look it up, but people have secrets for a reason and he won’t push.

•Actually he thinks about Johnny a lot. It’s dangerous, being this attached. Sometimes he wonders if he’s honest to God crazy. (He doesn’t have a clue he’s in love)

(I’m well aware a lot of this isn’t really canon but that’s kind of the point)

[freyito]

⎯ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ & ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ + ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

i don't really know what im doing. this is self indulgent. i've been have a really rough time and theres a lot of stress and pressure put on me and i think i may crack? it's not cause of tumblr, i find writing here calming. but hey, i'm moving, im still working on three certs, im worried about college, im writing a book, and im playing therapist to friends.

cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi can feel your stress from a mile away. He doesn't need sight, he doesn't need sento, he doesn't even need to touch you to know. He can see you so clearly in his head, hair messy, eyebrows near constantly furrowed, and just how tense your body really is.

So, when you dodge out of his touch and end up hiding in your room, he doesn't take it to heart. However, he understands. And he will do everything in his power to get you to destress.

He opens the door ever so softly, yet makes sure his presence is known. He reaches out to you, hunched over at your desk, hands hiding your face, your fingers digging into your hair. His hand meets your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

He leans in closer to your ear, and whispers for you to come to bed with him. When you refuse his request, he's a bit more firm. He doesn't demand that you join him, no, but you can hear the traces of longing and concern in his voices.

Once he's convinced you, he leads you to the bed. He's memorized the layout of the house, don't worry. He won't ask questions, he won't press for any answers. All he knows is you're stressed and overworking yourself, and that's cause enough to pull you away.

Kenshi prefers to give you a massage, not only does it work out the knots of your body, but he believes it is a great way to destress by being close to the one you love. He works his way down your body, kissing the nape of your neck when he reaches your waist.

Once he's sure he's gotten all the stress out of your body, he finally cuddles up to you. He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He refuses to let you leave his arms. You need sleep, and he's going to make sure you get it. And don't even think you can slink away from him in the morning, he's going to pull you right back into his arms.

Johnny Cage

Johnny can't let you get away with sulking, he needs to see you relax, stress free. Seeing you messed up (and not cause of him), it makes his heart hurt. Of course, he understands. He's got a bad habit of overworking himself, too.

But, he isn't going to let you hide from him. Don't think for a second that you can get away with that. Before you can even run into your (shared) room to hide away, he whisks you off your feet.

Don't even think you can convince him to let you down, either. Nope. You're stuck with him now. And what is he going to do? Funny you asked, he's already ordered your favorite food, and he's got your favorite movie queued up. And one of his own.

If he could tie you to the bed to make sure you couldn't escape, he would. Fortunately, his mind is a lot sounder. And he knows your going to stay and wait with him for the food to arrive. Meanwhile, he's trying to get you to talk. About anything. He just wants to hear your voice, really.

Johnny doesn't leave your side. Once. He's dragging you along to go get the food with him, and he's holding your hand during dinner. So what, he's having a hard time cutting his food? He doesn't care. He needs to know you're still with him, not only is it grounding for him, it's meant for you, too.

After dinner, he's already on drawing a bath for you. (and for him, c'mon, he has to!) He's thrown in whatever he can think of- Epsom salt, bath foam- and lights some candles. He tries to make it look all romantic, with rose petals scattered in the bath and around it, too. You can feel just how proud of himself he is when he carries you to the bath. Which, is also a non-negotiable.

Johnny doesn't care if you've reached the height of relaxation after the bath, either. Nope, he's made sure your schedule is cleared for the next week, at least. He condemns you to stay with him, he'll take you wherever you'd like. All the fancy restaurants you could eat at. Or, if you'd rather just stay home alllll week, he doesn't mind that either. As long as he gets to stay with you.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[the-ace-with-spades]

Random headcanons for Ghost and Soap (and Ghostsoap) part 1

- Soap has the habit of placing his hand on the small of Ghost's back. It looks adorable because next to Ghost, everyone looks tiny and yet Soap oozes such confidence that Ghost feels small whenever he has Johnny's hand directing him by pressing into the small of his back, sometimes Johnny's thumb is rubbing little circles over his spine. He always blushes, too.

- On the other hand, Ghost has a habit of pulling Soap by the hip any time he's about to get himself in trouble. Someone says some shit, Soap turns to the side and opens his mouth and Ghost just reaches his arm across his back and with his fingers digging into the v curve of hip steering him away before he can open his big mouth and get himself in trouble. This is inspired by the Tom Holland&Zendaya photos

- Ghost is always cold, Soap is always hot. It looks absolutely comical during spring when they go out - Ghost has warm sweats and jacket and a hoodie and a hat/mask on and Soap is in shorts and a hoodie with cut-off sleeves. Gaz calls it Soap's slut behaviour

- This means Ghost is a blanket hog. They often sleep in the same bed but separately because Soap just feels too hot to cuddle up under the warmest duvet available in store which is Ghost's preferred one.

- They are decent cooks but Ghost is better at cooking and Soap is better at baking. They also have different cooking styles - Ghost cooks to relax and doesn't stress about the results and Soap takes cooking as a challenge.

- Ghost doesn't get jealous, really. He's too in control to get jealous and he's the ride or die kinda guy so he's put all of his trust into Soap and is used to Soap's overfriendly, borderline flirty personality. It's endearing to him.

- Soap, on the other hand, is a jealous beast. Recruits, other teams officers, strangers in a bar, anyone who gets Ghost's attention or tries to get Ghost's attention, Soap always struts in and stands way too close and asserts his position as soon as he notices. Ghost pretends it's annoying but he finds it cute (he's never had anyone get jealous over him).

- Soap never stops calling Ghost per sir. Not when they're on leave, not when they retire. Sometimes it happens in public and because Soap only calls him sir when he's feeling cheeky, he sounds really bratty and people make their (dirty) assumptions.

- Soap is not a fan of Valentine's Day. Ghost likes to pretend he isn't either, but in the week before the day, he'd do small romantic gifts/gestures every day.

- Soap is the 'leaves his dirty socks on the floor' kinda guy, meaning he never puts back stuff in its rightful place, has tons of dirty mugs lying around, piles of sketchbooks and books and about a dozen of pencil cases, he forgets to make the bed, doesn't fold the laundry for days after taking it out of the dryer, just leaving in the corner in the kitchen. Ghost feels tested when they move in together because he's a neat freak.

- Soap is a hairy beast. He's got dark thick hair everywhere - his chest, back, arms, the happy trail, the other happy trail that goes down his inner thighs. He'd have to shave twice a day if he had to keep a clean-shaven look.

- Ghost is not exactly hairy but also not hairless, it's just that the majority of his body hair is very pale.

- Ghost unironically likes Vimto. His favourite takeaway is Chinese and he actually likes beans on toast for breakfast and scotch eggs. He, however, can't understand how Soap can eat oats for breakfast every day.

- Ghost does, in fact, have a soft tum. Soap also has a healthy layer of fat over muscles but Ghost doesn't really have the abs shape - he's teddy bear shaped.

- Ghost feeds stray cats scraps of meat any time he cooks off base.

- Soap definitely has ADHD. He doesn't shut up and his mind is brilliant but very scattered.

[partycatty]

I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~

Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕

i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation

johnny cage > call me

johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early

warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE

notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?

masterlist

• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.

• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.

• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.

• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.

• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.

• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.

• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.

• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.

• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.

• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.

• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.

• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.

• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.

• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.

• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.

• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.

• call me. please.

• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.

• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.

• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.

• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.

• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."

• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."

• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.

• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."

• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.

• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.

• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."

• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"

• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."

• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.

• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.

• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.

• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"

• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.

• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.

• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.