#dark johnny storm x reader

[cottagecheese1]

unhinged worlds 3

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new beginnings, but what happens when your new beginning comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.

paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea. warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

This all seemed so wrong–actually it was wrong. The way Andy was eating you out like a madman between your thighs seemed too good to be true, and the fact that some deep part of you liked this made you shiver. Maybe it was because of the foreign praise Johnny and Colin gave you while you squirmed in their grasp while desperately trying to give yourself an ounce of freedom.

“Aww, honey I just know you’re so close already”, Colin said with a mocking grin.

Apparently, Andy didn’t seem to be fooled by your desperate attempt to conceal the moans that were forced out of the back of your throat, because you felt his mouth attach to your clit and aggressively start sucking. You suddenly jumped back, trying to create some sort of distance between the both of you. Andy then just wrapped his arms around your thighs–pulling you closer, which caused a sudden spasm to exit your body.

“Mmm, look at you sweetheart, all sensitive and shit,” Johnny cooed while pinching your exposed nipples, which caused you to let out a weak squeal.

Colin chuckled and squeezed your other nipple roughly, “She’s just a Baby Johnny, she obviously can’t help it,” he said as he leaned down and pecked your forehead. “can’t you Honey? You’ve never felt this good, have you?”

You really haven’t ever felt this good before. Not that you would ever let any of the three men know that, but the desperate whine you let out as Andy shoved his tongue deeper inside of you just made the two men taunt you more, and the unwanted pleasure that Andy was giving you and with the crude words that spilled out of Johnny and Colin–you could feel that tension building up in your lower stomach want to unravel.

Johnny brushed your hair off your sweat covered forehead with his hand, then leaned down to give you a slight peck on your temple, “C'mon sweetheart, go ahead and cum for me–I know you want to.”, Johnny said with a teasing coo.

Andy then reached up to rub your clit, and that was your breaking point. You no longer could hold in that burning sensation, so you just let it go–feeling your body unravel all at once felt like heaven–you must have not noticed the pornographic moan you let out because the chatter of how ‘pretty she sounds’ came to topic.

As soon as your senses finally came back, you didn’t feel loved or cared about at all. You felt dirty, used even. As you lay on the couch with teary eyes, trying to keep up with the sound of your heartbeat, just so you could try to focus on anything other than the situation you're currently in.

Andy snapped you out of your train of thought when you felt your body being set up to lean against Johnny. Suddenly feeling exposed you bring your knees up to your chest while trying to somewhat cover your exposed chest, but considering the only two bare naked people in the room are You and Johnny–it didn’t seem to surprise you.

Andy then grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, so your gaze was meeting his, then he said, “You did really good honey, I know that was scary, but you sat there and took it like a big girl. Daddy’s so so proud of you.”, he then leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

Even though his praises did make you feel a little better–you couldn’t stop shaking–the heater broke at the end of spring, so it was always extra chilly in your house. That's why you always wore comfy sweaters around.

Johnny seemed to notice how much you were shivering when he wrapped his arms around you because he said, “You cold baby? Don’t you know I’m a human furnace?”, he asked with a teasing tone. You responded with a small, “yes..I’m cold”, and Johnny seemed to take that as a pass to go ahead and pull you on top of his lap while he adjusted his arms to wrap around you more tightly.

You didn’t even notice Andy left because he came back with what looks like one of his cable knit sweaters and a fresh pair of panties, then he made his way over to you with long strides before kneeling in front of you.

“Daddy got you a nice cozy sweater and fresh pair of panties for his special girl.” Andy said softly as he pulled the overly large sweater over your head and pulled the cotton panties up your legs.

Colin cooed teasingly at your flushed face before saying, “aww, that was nice sweetheart, what do you say?”, you looked down at your lap and fidgeted with your fingers–trying to hide your flushed face.

Andy chuckled before responding for you, “Don’t tease her, she’s just a little shy right now. Isn’t that right honey?”, you look at Andy's smug expression before nodding.

He kisses your forehead before standing back up and sitting by you and Johnny, “That reminds me, your uncle Lloyd is coming tomorrow to stay for a while–you don’t know him honey, but-”, Andy gets cut off by Johnny when he quickly responds with, “That fucker is NOT my uncle. Why is that asshole coming anyway?” Andy rolls his eyes at his banter before he continues.

“Well, I’ve been telling him about our little angel, and he wants to come and see her.”, Andy says sternly. This conversation between them both seemed to make you perk up because, who is Lloyd? Why has he been telling this man about you?

Andy seemed to sense your concern, so he pulled you onto his lap, “Oh honey, there's no reason to be worried...”, he said before he adjusted you on his lap, so you were straddling his legs, then he rested his hands on your hips.

Andy then continued, “Lloyd really likes you sweet girl, so there would be no reason for him to be mean to you unless you’re not very nice, but I won’t have to worry about that because you're a good girl, right?” You paused, trying to process his words, but the expression on his face said, ‘give me an answer now.’ so you just nodded.

“Words angel, I wanna hear that pretty voice.” Andy said sternly, so you responded “Yeah”, you could tell that wasn’t what he was looking for, but he seemed to settle thankfully.

Colin then pitched in, “don’t believe him baby, that guy is a total asshole–he’s probably into some fucked up shit-” Andy cut him off quickly before scolding, “Stop that, you’re scaring her..remember you’re in my house Colin.”

This new information makes you nervous. Scared actually. What if Colin was right–just like he was right about Andy. All you felt right now was overwhelmed and afraid, you never asked for any of this, so now you could only assume this random man was gonna come here and do worse things to you.

You could feel a sob bubbling up in your throat, chest tight, heart racing, you don’t know why you felt embarrassed about the tears that were running down your face. They are the ones doing this to you, it's not your fault, but you couldn’t seem to think when you were hyperventilating and a fresh rack of sobs coming out all at once.

Andy tried to calm you down, rubbing your back and squeezing you in a tight hug did little to cease how upset you felt, “sweetheart, look at me.”, you couldn’t think all you could do was trying to get away from him–you hated how he touched you–how safe he made you feel, how gentle he was. You hated this but you couldn’t help but look at him when he told you too.

“Such a good girl..I know you’re overwhelmed honey, but nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you when you’re here. Lloyd is not gonna hurt you because he knows he needs to be gentle with you.” Andy said as he pressed your head into the crook of his neck.

Johnny leaned over to rub your back and pressed a kiss on the top of your head before saying, “Colin was just exaggerating baby, he’s not that much of an asshole.” Johnny then got up and stretched his arms above his head before continuing, “In fact, he’ll probably treat you just like his little princess, I bet you’ll end up loving it as much as he does.” he ends as he walks away with a yawn.

You could hear a distant “goodnight”, being called, but you just laid against Andy’s chest–listening to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke once more, “He’s right honey, everything is gonna be okay..I’d explain more but you look sleepy, you wanna sleep with daddy tonight? I give great bedtime cuddles.”

You yawned tiredly before snuggling into his chest more and closing your eyes, letting sleep take you over. Andy chuckled before peppering a bunch of kisses on your face, “Alright cutie, let’s get you to bed. Goodnight Colin don’t say anymore shit like that again.” he said while giving a glare to Colin.

“Night’ Mr. B, tell my baby I said goodnight.” Colin responded with a smug grin.

Andy gave him a groan and carried you bridal style to his bedroom–setting your sleeping figure under the duvet. He walked over to his side of the bed, sliding his shirt off while watching your sleepy figure. Andy slid under the blanket beside you and reached over your head to turn the lap off. He pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crown of your head.

Andy yawned quietly, “goodnight honey, I love you.”

Tag list.

@xycnsstuff

@wolfsmom1

@abbyyourlocalmilf

@jeelsinha

A/n: its currently 12am, sorry I took such a long time for part 3, enjoy! (let me know if you would like to be tagged.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Good Tidings Your Way Come

Warnings: non/dubcon, allusions to stalking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: An old face shows up without welcome.

Character: Johnny Storm

Day Three of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - new SO at the family dinner

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take out the pies you baked the night before and put them on the shelf, juggling around the contents of the fridge to accommodate prepped dishes. Your meticulously planned schedule is outlined on the magnetic whiteboard. The turkey is in and all else has to be timed precisely.  

As you get out the stuffed olives to put pit on the wooden board with all the cheeses and crackers, the doorbell rings. You set the jar down and wipe your hands on your apron. You huff as you hurry out of the kitchen. 

"Why are you knocking?" You call to the door, "go ahead and come on in. You know the rules. Just kick the snow off--" 

You grab the handle, even as you beckon to the expected visitor. One of a few. Maybe their hands are full. Naima is always far too ambitious. You're not quite sure where your youngest got that from. 

You blink at the figure on the other side. It isn't who you expect. Not any of your daughters. It's not anyone you would expect to see on the holiday you've been coveting all month, along with the time off. 

Johnny smiles as he hugs a cardboard box, tufts of tissue paper and bows peeking out over the top. Your face and your heart fall. How did he find you? 

"Hey, cookie, happy holidays," he winks. "Mmm," he sniffs emphatically, "smells good. You still put cranberries in your stuffing." 

You cheeks twitch. You clutch the edge of your apron and gulp, "Johnny, what are you doing here?" 

"Ah, go on, ask me how I found you? You know I hate niceties," he shoves the box towards you, "those are for the girls." 

"Girls?" You utter. 

"Naima, Marcie  and... what was it...Evelina." He recites as he jiggles the box in his arms.  

"How--" 

"Brrr, it's chilly," he steps close until the box presses to you. "Sure is coming down." 

You stare at him, stunned. You bring your arms up to take the box as he sidles in past you. That little voice that follows you from consciousness to nightmare nags in your ear. Stop him! What are you doing? 

"Just gotta warm up," he looks around the entry way as he rubs his hands together, his fingers lighting with licking flames as the air ripples with the heat. That's what you're doing. Being smart. "Too bad about the old place. Heard the landlord was pissed." 

You stare at his hands and the flames that threaten his leather jacket. He's entirely unbothered as his flesh is unaffected by the fire. He parts his hands and snaps his fingers. The flames die. 

"You know pecan's my fave. You make it this year?" 

You can't speak. One mistake. One stupid act of charity and now you're cursed. One year isn't long enough yet you don't think he'll wait so long the next tome. 

"Apple, pumpkin, and pecan," your voice creaks. 

"Mmm, delicious," he unzips his jacket slowly. "Dessert to go with..." he eyes you up and down, "dessert." 

"Please, why are you here?" 

"It's the holidays. It's a time to spend with those who matter--" 

"Johnny," you plead. 

"Don't." He snaps, "you always pulled that pathetic act, didn't you? And I spent all that time trying to comfort you only for you to ditch me--" 

"You... it was a misunderstanding. I only ever wanted a friend," you sniff. 

"I didn't. I just wanted you but I guess you thought you were too fucking good," he sneers. "Funny, seeing as the ex dumped you for that young EA of his." 

"Stop--" you say. 

"Huh, you're right. We don't need to stay hung up on old wounds. It's a time for cheer. To be together." He bends to unlace his boots. "Can't wait to meet the family." 

You watch him move his boots onto the mat. He stands straight and takes the box back. You shiver as his blue eyes stick to you. 

"How about you come back tomorrow--" 

"So you can run again? You're not getting away. Not doing this to me again." 

"I didnt--" you choke as his eyes blaze a vibrant orange. 

"This is an old house. Nice. Bet the baseboards are real oak. I mean foundation's probably concrete but not much without walls." He smirks as he meets your eye, "so, should we put these under the tree?" 

"Um, sure," you agree. 

His threats are subtle but not missed. Your daughters, your home, you. It could all be destroyed by the snap of his fingers. Literally. 

"Probably a bit awkward at first," he says as he enters the living room without invitation.  

You close the front door before you follow. You hover at the door anxiously. He bends to put down the box and unpacks each present before delicately placing them under the decorated tree. 

"I mean, the age difference might be a bit shocking," he stands up with the empty box and it flashes into cinder, falling to the floor in a pile of ash. "Should probably sweep that up, honey." 

You give him a long look. He doesn’t flinch. You leave him to get the broom and dustpan. You return as he nonchalantly paces the room. He admires the decor, toying with the ornaments on the mantel and running his finger along the hanging tinsel. A wisp of smoke wisps after the motion but no sparks fly. 

You gather up the mess on the floor and dump it in the bin. You shut away the broom and pan. Back in the living room, he admires the hung portraits of your daughters. He’s very deliberate in his examination. 

“It’s okay, you know? We’ll work through it as a family. I can only imagine it might be a little weird. To think of how you seduce me. A much younger man than you--” 

“Johnny, I get it. You don’t have to—If you just go, we can talk about this later--” 

“Talk,” he says sharply. “We did a lot of that. Talk, talk, talk,” he puppets his hand with the syllables and faces you. “Then you ran.” 

“I appreciate everything you did for me, but I wasn’t ready--” 

“It’s been over a year so are you ready now?” He snickers as he comes closer, “I mean, that’s rhetorical so...” 

Your lip quivers as he stops right in front of you. His gaze bores into you then slowly descends. He brings his hand up to run his thumb across your lower lip as he bites his own. You wince and he angles his hand to grab your chin gruffly. 

“I’ve waited longer than that. I’ve been patient.” He takes a breath and tilts his head dangerously. “I’ve known where you are. I sat and I watched. Baby, I gave you all the time you need to get past that deadbeat husband.” 

Your lashes web with unspent tears as you pout. You can feel the heat in his hand, ready to singe at his smallest whim. He pulls you toward him and you tense. His breath sizzles around you. 

He raises his other hand and the air whisks as flames jump to life around his digits. You watch them encase his flesh and the thick golden signet around his middle finger. His eyes follow yours to the spectacle of his fiery touch. He looms it closer to you and chokes a whimper for you. The air roils across your face. 

He closes his fist and the flames go out. He’s toying with you. You search his face for any hint of mercy. For any strand of the man you once believed he was. His blue eyes are icy even if his touch is searing. 

He walks you back and you yelp as he lowers his hand to grab your hip. He spins you and you catch yourself on the armchair just in front of you. He jerks you as he tugs on your jeans, the button tugging before popping out to dangle on the thread. He bares your ass as you brace the frame of the chair. 

You cry out as hot metal burns into your flesh. He presses his knuckles against your soft flesh as the ring brands a welt into your flesh. He keeps it there until your whining and writhing, his other hand still hooked around your neck. 

He pulls you back until your spine arches. He steps closer and crushes his hand between your ass and his crotch. He huffs and snarls. 

“This time, you won’t forget who you belong to,” he twists his hand so the metal burns deeper into your skin. “Now stop fucking crying. It’s a special day, we don’t need you ruining it.”

There's voices from outside. You know them well. You flick your lashes as Johnny lets you go and swipe away your tears. You can't ruin today, not for your girls.

"That's a good girl. They wouldn't wanna see mommy crying," he heads for the door. "Especially for no reason. No one likes a drama queen."

You suck back the last of your horror. It's just what needs to be done. Not just to keep yourself safe, but to keep them safe. You were wrong when you thought running would do that. 

[krirebr]

Updated 9/19/24

Tag lists are open

Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my stories are intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.

Requests are closed but my asks are always open! Come riff with me or send asks/what ifs about any of my works! But no NSFW GIFs, please and thank you! 💜

🖤 Dark 🩶 Soft!Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut

Trapped AU

Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤 😥

Head Over Heels

All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.

I Know I Should Know Better series

Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Luck Be a Lady

Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head? 🩶🥵

Drabbles & Headcanons

Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤

Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵

Curtis + Possessive 🥵

Just Part of the Process - I Know I Should Know Better AU - Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader 😥

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Relax

A Merry Little Christmas

Killing Moon

When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.

Giving Me a Thrill

A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.

Psycho Killer AU

A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two 🖤🥵😥

More Than This series

Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn. 😥

I'm Feeling Like I Never Should

It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Jealous Ex Ransom

Sequel 🥵

End

No Way of Knowing - More Than This What If 😥

What You Can Do For Your Country

Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤

Everybody Wants to Rule the World series

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two

Drabbles & Headcanons

Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon

Tell Me One Thing - More Than This What If 😥

What if Reader was into it? - What You Can Do For Your Country What If 🖤

We're All Monsters

Multi-character, multi-reader vampire AU 🖤😥🥵

[rubywrites-4]

Such a backstabber🔪🩸

warning: violence, inappropriate language and more ⚠️

Johnny Storm had never been the type to settle down. He was a former playboy, known for his charm and charisma, but all of that changed when he met Y/n. She was different from anyone he had ever met before, and he knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was the one for him. They had been dating for a while now, and Johnny was convinced that Y/n was the love of his life. He had even started planning on proposing to her, wanting to spend the rest of his days by her side. But little did he know, his playboy ways were far from behind him.

Y/n had a close friend who she had known since she joined the Fantastic Four team, and unbeknownst to her, this friend had caught Johnny’s eye. Despite his feelings for Y/n, Johnny couldn’t resist the temptation of his friend, and soon enough, he was having an affair behind Y/n’s back. As the day of the pre-wedding party arrived, everyone was in high spirits. Johnny’s side chick was there, mingling with the other guests, and everything seemed perfect. But then, chaos erupted.

Bombs went off, sending guests running in every direction. Johnny was frantically searching for Y/n when he finally spotted her, standing with blood on her white wedding dress, tears streaming down her face. His heart shattered as he realized the extent of his betrayal.

Rushing to her side, Johnny hugged Y/n tightly, vowing in his heart to be loyal to her from that moment on. But just as he was about to profess his love, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Looking down, he saw a knife protruding from his abdomen, and when he looked up, he saw Y/n standing before him, a devilish smile on her face. “you thought I really do love you huh Storm?” She laughed at Johnny and continue pushing the knife deeper into his stomach

Suddenly Doctor Doom made his appearance while clapping his hand saying “bravo sweetheart” & kissed Y/n on the lips “mhm I missed you baby” Y/n moaned in the kiss and Doctor Doom replied “ I missed you more my baby” while kissing her back more deeper.

Johnny, Sue and everyone looked at Y/n in disbelief and was confuse of what’s going on and then a flashback played where Y/n is actually spy sent by Doom and also his girlfriend as well. Y/n acted as that innocent and sweet girl charisma and won everyone’s heart including Johnny’s and they both started to get to know each other and decided to date. Each and every time Johnny insisted sex, she would drug Johnny and goes to find evidence on the documents Johnny has secretly kept hidden while he’s unconscious and the next day she make him believe that they had sex and he passed out in tiredness. One final day she had found the important details and evidence of the Fantastic Four Team.

Flashback comes back to the reality where Y/n looks at her friend that she acted fake friendly and said“ I don’t have anything against you but no one shall have a friend like you who steal what’s belong to others so you know what you deserve bitch? ” Y/n winked & reloaded the gun to shoot her friend on the chest and forehead. Johnny didn’t even blink his eyes because of the shock and the fear he had for you at the moment

Evil smile presented on Y/n face and then she looked over Sue and smirked “ you would come after me for doing this to you” Y/n sighed and shot sue on the shoulder and apologized “I’m sorry Sue! You’re nice but I have to” luckily the shot didn’t affect Sue badly

Johnny scream and struggled to get out of the grasps Doom’s people had on him. Tears, fears and the pain do betrayal presented on his face and he asked Y/n with pleading eyes “ Y/n you bitch! Such a backstabber!! how could you do this to me ?” Y/n looked at him and laughed “ah little boy you don’t get to say that. You literally had a side chick and did things so you don’t get to talk about betrayal” y/n smiled sarcastically and told “lucky me I didn’t love or date a manwhore like you for real”

Y/n shot Johnny on both legs and he screamed in pain. Doom took his girlfriend’s hand “let’s go baby. I missed you so much” y/n smiled and pulled him for a kiss. Doom smirked and said “ah not here princess… let’s go to our home”. Both of them walked away holding hands and Y/n turned around to see Johnny fighting for his life while tears streaming down his eyes, Y/n smiled devilishly and showed her middle finger “this is how you do it mothafucker” then blow Johnny a kiss before walking away.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Johnny storm as twisted fire fighter. He starts the fire and then comes to rescue the damsel in distress and put the fire out

He meets her through a mutual friend/fellow firefighter, Johnny is going through a breakup with his ex who is just too much like himself and then he meets reader

After their introduction through the mutual friend, Johnny has his sights set on reader but he knows that she’s apprehensive because she’s also going through a breakup

Her ex keeps trying to come into the picture and it pisses Johnny off to no end. After he reacts in anger and scares her, Johnny has to get back in her good books

He frames her ex for starting a fire in her apartment complex while he shows up as the hero and saves her from the blaze, supporting her through her ex’s trial and through any attempt to make her see that Johnny is the problem

Johnny does whatever he takes to have her and he’s not letting her go

[jesevans]

Something makes me think what Dark Angel wants from Johnny has nothing to do with tech, except possibly a camera 😏

Tech Tuesday - Johnny Storm

Summary: Johnny is a natural when it comes to cyber security but he has to tread lightly.

Warnings: None at this point. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Johnny was flummoxed. Every attempt he made to contact his hacker connections, he hit a wall. He'd been blocked from all the usual places, and several of the unusual ones. Everywhere his hacker persona went, he was denied access.

What the hell is going on? Johnny thinks to himself.

He tries sending out DMs to various hackers. The only one to respond is you, DarkAngel2000.

DarkAngel2000: Well hello there, Mr. Storm. TheHumanTorch69: Who? What the hell is going on? DarkAngel2000: C'mon Johnny. Did you really think I wouldn't catch on?

He's about to type a response but you beat him to the punch by sending him a copy of his work ID card. He rubs his face for a few seconds, trying to think about how to carefully handle this.

HumanTorch: Who the hell is that?!

You'd laugh if it weren't so sad. He's clearly grasping at straws. But you know better. He's on their side. Worst of all, he lied to you about it and sabotaged your own work. Sure, it wasn't legal work. But it paid well and you had a reputation to maintain.

DarkAngel: Silly boy. Stop trying to deny it. I have you figured out and have warned the others about you. HumanTorch: YOU DOXED ME?! DarkAngel: Not yet. I simply showed them the proof that you were playing both sides. I decided to give you a chance to make it worth my while to not give out your personal information.

Johnny takes a breath. You're clearly not someone to be messed with but he is not about to give up his office. Yeah, it's just a job but it's a job that pays well, lets him work with good people, and they never nag him about what previous jobs dubbed "unprofessional behaviors". These people have his loyalty and he will not sell them out.

HumanTorch: What do you want? DarkAngel: That's more like it. I want credentials. HumanTorch: For this company? Not happening. I like these people. DarkAngel: Oooo! You're a loyal puppy, huh? Well, loyal to those who pay you. HumanTorch: They're good people. DarkAngel: I suppose we can compromise, then. You are rather skilled. I'm sure I'll have some other project for you to work on. I'll send you the details later, Mr. Storm.

Johnny flinches at that. You know his name, his face and the company he works for. No doubt you know everything else about him as well. At least you were willing to help him keep his job. Johnny starts working out a plan for reinforcing his personal privacy measures. He seriously doubts you'll let it go at just one job. He's got skills and he doesn't feel like being blackmailed into using them.

Maybe he should look into finding you.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out Pt. 2

Johnny drags you inside the station, ignoring the confused looks he gets from the other men inside. He walks you over to the oldest of them, a man with a beard sporting a hat, and introduces you. 

“This is oor captain, Price,” Johnny says, his arm still over your shoulder. “Cap, bonnie ‘ere lost their keys doon th’ drain. Can we gi’ them a hand?”

“I’m sure Gary could get to them,” Price says, offering a warm smile and his hand to shake, which you do. “You rest here mux.” He turned to the couch where a man with dark, curly hair sat. “Kyle, keep our guest company, we’ll be back.” He pats Johnny on the shoulder and the two leave to find Gary and retrieve your keys. 

Kyle stands from the couch and walks over. He’s handsome, pretty you think. He definitely knows it too as he catches you staring, giving you a smile. “Hungry?” he asks.

---

Simon emerged from the showers, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his damp towel slung over his broad shoulders as his blond hair was still dripping wet. The station house was quiet. Johnny must still be out walking Riley. 

A quiet laugh broke that silence though. One that made his stony heart skip a beat. Simon made his way towards the common area, finding the one thing he never expected. You. 

Kyle was sitting with one arm on the couch behind you, the other on his leg. You hadn’t noticed Simon yet, too engrossed in Kyle’s story about the time Riley climbed into the open window of a cop car to get into a bag of treats the officer had hidden under his seat.

“So Riley was hanging halfway out this cop’s car, an’ Johnny’s trying to get him out before the cop gets back,” Kyle said. “Turns out, the cop had a bag of treats in the car. Found out when Simon called Riley over. Rascal had the bag hanging out his mouth.” 

The sound of your laugh makes Simon’s heart race and he finds himself jealous of the way your fingers gently scratched behind Riley’s ear as the dog’s head lays in your lap. 

Simon can’t help but stare. He’d always known how pretty you were, but seeing you here in the station.. He only wished he was the one you were sitting with. That he was the one making you laugh so easily. 

“Bonnie! We got yer keys!” Johnny calls, coming up behind Simon. 

Your head whips around, catching a glimpse of Simon as he turns on his heels and retreats deeper into the station. 

---

In his room, Simon’s heart pounds in his chest. He runs a large hand through his blond hair, his mind racing. All he’d wanted these past few months was to know you better, though he’d never been able to bring himself to speak more than a few words to you. Never had he thought he’d see you in the firehouse, much less cozied up on their couch. What were you even doing here? 

A knock on his door brought his answer. Simon quickly pulled on his privacy mask, some part of him hoping it was you. Instead he saw Johnny. 

“Aye, Si, did ye see we git a guest?” Johnny asked with that cheeky grin of his. Ah. That was it. Johnny brought you here. 

“I saw..” Simon said, keeping his voice measured despite his urge to to tear Johnny in half for getting up the nerve to talk to you before he could. 

“Ye never told me tha’ wee thing wis so cuit,” Johnny pressed. “S’already git Kyle wrapped ‘round their wee finger.”

Simon’s dark eyes sharpened. Johnny always knew just how to get under his thick skin. 

“Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye,” Johnny continued. “Looked a might fash when ye stormed off.”

“Didn’t ‘ave m’ mask,” Simon muttered. “Wasn’t expecting them..”

“Aye, ha t’ git Gary t’ rescue their keys,” Johnny explained. His blue eyes briefly looked Simon up and down. “Y’should say ‘ello. Am sure they’d lek t’ see ye.”

Johnny was dense but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Simon could get anyone he wanted, he had the looks to make just about anyone, including Johnny himself, melt. If only Simon had the confidence to actually talk to anyone. 

When Simon didn’t budge, Johnny decided to push further. “Aye wis think’n, LT,” he started. “I might ask ‘em oot fer coffee.” Johnny shrugged as he watched Simon tense. 

Simon shoved past Johnny, making his way to the common area again. Leaving Johnny grinning at his door.

---

“Coffee.”

Simon’s gruff voice startles you. You hadn’t seen him enter the room, much less hear him walk up behind where you were sitting on the couch. 

You blink those pretty eyes up at him. “What?”

“With me.” He doesn’t seem to be asking by his tone, but his eyes are almost pleading. 

“Uh.. sure,” you say, unable to keep the smile from your lips. 

The tension in Simon’s shoulders melted away. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

[ramp-it-up]

Cassandra’s Muse

Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.

A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”

Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way. 

“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”

Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.

“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”

He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.

Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.

Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.

“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”

Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.

“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”

Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.

After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier. 

“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”

“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.

Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.

“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”

 Wade groaned and threw his head back.

 “Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”

You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.

You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts. 

Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.

Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.

You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.

“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”

The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.

Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.

“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.

As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.

“Get over here and sit on my dick.”

You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.

You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining. 

“Move the fuck around, asshole.”

Wade stomped his foot.

“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”

But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.

“C’mere.” 

Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.

You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.

Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.

If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.

You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.

Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.

You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.

Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.

“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”

The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.

Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.

“Watch it fuck face.”

Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.

“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”

The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.

Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.

“Holy fuck!”

Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.

You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.

“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”

“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”

You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs. 

“Want that ass.”

You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.

You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained. 

“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”

You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.

Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.

"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"

“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”

Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.

“Ugh. Fuck. So good.” 

He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt  a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass. 

“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”

Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.

Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected. 

The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride. 

You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.

He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.

“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”

Wade came up and wiped his mouth.

“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”

Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel. 

“You ready to take this hot cock?”

You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.

It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.

“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”

Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.

“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”

Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.

You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.

“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”

You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.

And you were more than okay with that. 

So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog!

[cottagecheese1]

unhinged worlds 4

summary: A few years after your father died, your mother marries a new man, to you having a new family meant new beginnings, but what happens when your new beginning comes spiraling apart just because of the people that made them.

paring: dark stepdad Andy Barber x reader x dark dbf Lloyd Hansen x reader x dark stepbrother Johnny storm x reader x dark bbf Colin Shea. warnings- (DDLG undertones) stepcest, Johnny is NOT Andy's biological father, he is the adopted son. smut, do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the following, spanking, blackmail, p in v, edging, thigh riding, oral, fingering.

Series master list right here

Another day, that's what you always seem to think when you wake up and the sun burns through your eyelids, when the seemingly 8 hours of sleep comes to an end, but this morning just seemed worse than the other ones. Mostly because you knew and dreaded what was coming as Andy grumbled, and pulled you tighter to his bare chest as he tried to hide away from the sun peaking through the blinds.

As you laid there stiff, scared, and a bit shocked at the previous night activities circulated through your head, but one seemed to never stop nagging you. You close your eyes and furrow your eyebrows thoughtlessly, as you recall the conversation the night before that Andy had brought up, and had desperately scared you when he mentioned a man named Lloyd. Who was this man? Your heartbeat quickens at the thought of another man coming in with the intentions of the men who were supposed to love, and protect you when your mother went away.

Andy grumbles and tosses around some more and you tense up and mentally curse yourself, secretly hoping for some more time with your thoughts, as you sigh in defeat and hear stomping and kitchen drawers being pulled open roughly. Andy groans and you feel him lean over the top of your head and pepper kisses all over the side of your face with a hum, while he strokes your sweater covered arm with a smug smile.

“Morning' honey..how did you sleep babygirl?” Andy says with a deep rumble as he strokes a stray piece of hair away from your face when you refuse to look at him.

You pause for a moment and your real response races through your head, scared, worried, afraid. Knowing that's not an answer he’d accept you sigh, “Fine.”

He looks at you with a little irritation when you cut him a short answer, and he sighs with annoyance, “Honey..I know you're angry, but you better knock the attitude off before I do..”

Andy grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look at him and his expression softens, “Daddy loves you sweetheart, but the last thing I wanna do is punish you first thing in the morning. Especially when we have a guest coming over today”, he smiles softly and loosens the grip on your cheeks slightly.

You nod slowly, and you notice how quickly his temper rises and falls within all of 40 seconds. You force yourself to give a small smile and sit up slowly. Not wanting to provoke the larger man in some way, your mouth feels dry and croaky as you open your mouth to suggest something, “we should..”, but the words get caught in your throat and you manage to force them out anyway, “we should get some breakfast..”

Andy chuckles and leans in closer, inches away from your face and pushes you back down flat to the mattress, “ah, give me a kiss first and we can go eat..” he smiles smugly and brushes your hair back.

Chills seem to run up your spine and you swallow nervously, while managing to keep your small smile, you lean up slowly to press a small kiss to his lips. Before you can pull back Andy grabs the back of your head gently with a bit of roughness, as he deepens the kiss and manages to slide his tongue in while he hums in contentment. Your eyes widen and attempt to push him away as you plant your hands on either side of his broad shoulders, and after a moment of him enduring your struggle, Andy finally pulls away with a chuckle while leaning over you.

“Just having some fun honey..no need to act like that”, Andy winks with a smile and lets you sit up. He gets out of bed, watching him throw on a plain white T-shirt with some gray sweatpants, and you both hear a knock on the door.

“Hey! Can you two hurry up already..Lloyds been bitching about wanting to see her already”, You furrow your eyebrows and what you can make out to be Johnny on the other side of the door, and then you realize that the man you’ve been scared to meet is on the other side of the room.

You glance over to Andy and he rolls his eyes while he lets out a huff, “tell him to hold on..! And that he’s in my house” he yells loud enough to where Johnny can hear, and Andy glances over at you while walking over to your side of the bed, then kneeling down to grip your hands in his larger ones as he stares into your worried expression, “I know your scared honey, and trust me. I was gonna talk to you about this, but he came earlier than expected, so all you need to do is be a good girl..can you do that for Daddy?” he says softly and for a moment you feel safe.

You nod your head and get up out of bed, in only Andy’s sweater and panties. Before you look at the door nervously and you glance behind you to see Andy's hands on your shoulders softly as he smiles down at you, “um..can I get some shorts.? Or pants would be ok to..” You say nervously.

Andy hums softly and nods, before looking down at your bare legs and panty clad ass in front of him, “of course honey..I don’t want anyone else seeing that pretty ass first thing in the morning either..” he winks before pulling out a pair of shorts that he seemed to take from your room, and you sigh in relief as he hands them to you.

Taking the shorts eagerly, you slide them on quickly as Andy watches you hungrily. A twitch to his cock makes him groan a bit when you bend over, his disappointment shows when you stand back up, turning back around to look at him and he gives a hum in contentment while motioning you out the door, which leads straight into the kitchen.

You turn the door handle and push the door open in unwanted anticipation. You feel Andy push you further out the door like you were a scared puppy, and he leans down to whisper slowly into your ear, “Remember to be a good girl..” a shiver runs through your spine and you nod.

“Morning sweetheart, you got a special someone who wants to see you..” Colin teases you playfully before Johnny elbows him in the side, before smiling at you with a bit of a mischievous glint to his eyes.

You try to ignore the two men standing in the kitchen before you see a taller man walk from behind the two boys, and you feel Andy's grip tighten on your hips as the man walks closer. He smiles down at you and pulls you roughly away from Andy with a laugh, “There's my pumpkin.! Oh look at you, such a cutie..gotta nice ass too”, the man known as Lloyd pulls you into his chest and gropes your ass playfully.

The mustached man leads you into the living room, and you can faintly hear Andy groan in the back while the laughter of Johnny and Colin stop. Lloyd sits down on the couch and pulls you roughly onto his lap, “Oh come to daddy pumpkin.. I just couldn’t wait to see you sugar, I know you're tired of these fucker-”, Lloyd gets cut off by hands grunt.

“I’m daddy, you moron..why didn’t you tell me you were coming this early?” Andy says with irritation, and Lloyd just shoots Andy an amused grin while pulling you closer into him and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, which confuses you.

“Then I can be daddy when you're not around dickhead..like I said I was saying, I just couldn’t wait to see my pumpkin so I wanted to get here as early as possible..how about you sugar? You wanna ride in daddy's private jet? I think you do..” Lloyd coos at you as he grabs your cheeks teasingly, before Johnny scoffs behind him.

“She’s not going anywhere with you..let alone back to wherever you came from” Johnny states with a little humor in his voice, and you shuffle awkwardly on his lap. They aren’t actually gonna let his weirdo take you home with him right?

Andy immediately pipes into the conversation and waves his hand in a dismissing motion, “no, no, no..your not taking her anywhere with you, let alone on a plane or since I’m already pissed off at you” he says sternly while crossing his arms, and you just decide to stay put and listen.

“Oh stop being a little bitch, I’ll show her a good time..she behaves so well anyway” He scoffs for a minute before turning back to you with a teasing smile as you sit uncomfortably in his lap and look the other way.

Your actions seem to make a rise out of him and he grabs you face to make you look at him, and his hand wonders under your shirt until he pinches your nipples, and you jolt a bit and whine which seems to make everyone chuckle except for Andy, “Such a good girl..quiet as a mouse to aren’t you pumpkin? You haven’t even said a word to me yet”, he smiles and caresses your cheek softly, and you whine when he pinches your peaked nipples much rougher this time.

Colin seems to laugh at that and join in, “She's shy..barely even said more than a few sentences to us, not to mention how pretty she was whining. Desperate to cum when her pussy was getting some special kisses isn't that right baby?” Colin teases you relentlessly as his mocking tone makes you put your head down in embarrassment.

Lloyd Laughs at your shyness, and everyone seems to laugh along, including Andy. Lloyd tilts your chin up to look at him and runs his thumb over your bottom lip, before he slides his hand down your flimsy shorts and you whimper, looking at Andy for some kind of help but he just groans in amusement and adjusts the bulge in his sweatpants. As does everyone else and you can’t help but feel like you're being used. Mocked.

“Is that right pumpkin? Well you're shy now but you won’t be once I give you some special attention..daddy will make sure to spoil his princess” Lloyd teases and rubs your damp pussy through your cotton panties and you let out a soft moan and lean back against him.

“That's right baby girl..nothing wrong with a little attention, you like it don’t you?” Lloyd whispers lowly into your ear as you feel his thick fingers slide past your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in unwanted pleasure, as the others behind you groan in pleasure and you feel your climax coming closer than ever.

You grid against Lloyds fingers needily and let out shameless soft moans as he rubs quick small circles on your clit while he smiles at your neediness. “Thats it pumpkin..I know your close, go ahead and cum” he says deeply and you feel the coil in your lower stomach unravel and you let out a moan and slump back against Lloyd, as he takes his fingers covered in your juices and sucks them clean while the others smile and look down at you with lust and desire as your eyes are half lidded in pleasure, Andy chuckles.

“That was real sweet baby, but way more where that came from...”, Andy says darkly while Lloyd lays your back on the couch, and suddenly your back where you started out.

tag list

@xycnsstuff

@abbyyourlocalmilf

@wolfsmom1

@jeelsinha

@realm-of-azrael

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to continue, let me know if you have any recommendations for part 5

[thezombieprostitute]

Hot damn! I loved the magic going wonky when not used on its intended target. Very nicely done!

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - when snow white (you) escapes into the woods to escape the queen's order to kill, she learns that not all strangers should be trusted.

warning - smut, swearing, choking, under a spell, dubcon, creampie, slight angst, death, breaking and entering, jealousy, oral sex, kidnapping/entrapment, attempted poisoning and murder, group sex, groping, dark content.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Queen sneers, staring at herself in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall.” Her eyes squint, and her back straightens. “Who is the fairest of them all?” The answer she was expecting wasn’t what the mirror gave her. 

“Y/n is the fairest of them all.” The Magic Mirror spoke, a live video of you playing before her, your sweet self hums to the animals, pulling a small bucket from the well, capturing the attention of the many people that pass by. 

“What?!” She screams, and her face becomes red with anger. “No one is more fair than I! The Queen must have the best of everything. Everyone knows that. What could be more fair?” 

“Y/n is the fairest of them all!” The Mirror repeats, not caring for the tantrum the Queen is throwing. 

“What do you know? You’re a mirror!” She huffs, rolling her eyes and storming off. A plan sets in motion as she heads to where the huntsman rests, ordering him to take you out of the equation. 

You had spent your time running through the woods, away from your horrid stepmother and the huntsman that she had sent after you. Your hands clutched your skirt, lifting it from the ground, and your bare feet dodged the many sticks and rocks. Your breath is heavy, and you can hear his footsteps catching up to you. “Little Snow! You can’t run from me! The Queen ordered me to kill you!” You gasp, picking up your pace, desperately trying to distance yourself from him. 

You squeal and cry as your foot gets caught on a root sticking out of the ground. You fall forward, tumbling for a few seconds until you end up on your back. Fat tears cover your cheeks, your eyes are puffy, your hair is ruffled, and your once-beautiful dress is ruined, ripped and dirty. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as the huntsman appears in your vision, “P–please! You don’t have to do this! I–I won’t tell anyone if you let me go! Please!” You cry you beg, you plead. Your hands curl into the ground, crushing the dirt into your palms. You don’t notice the magic flowing through you and into the ground. You are so caught up in begging the man not to take your life. 

He shakes his head. “I have to. I was given an order.” His head continues to shake, clutching the knife as he desperately doesn’t want to kill you. “If I return and the Queen finds out I didn’t obey, she’ll kill me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tears slip past, and your lips tremble. You nod, accepting your fate. You wouldn’t be able to escape this. “O–okay. If taking my life means you get to keep yours, okay.” You breathe in and out, a soft sob passing your lips. Your brows furrow as you are met with silence before a crunch and a groan follow it. You slowly peek your eyes open, wondering what caused the noise, and a shocked sob escapes you when you notice a giant black wolf on top of the huntsman. Yellow eyes stare back at you, and you feel oddly calm before standing on shaky legs. It’s as though the animal is giving you enough time to escape. “T–thank you.” You take off running again, the sky becoming dark as night falls, heading in the opposite direction of the castle. 

You happen to stumble across a wooden cabin tucked away in the middle of nowhere. You rush forward, rapidly knocking on the door. “S–someone! Is anybody there?! I need help, please!” The door is pushed open from your knocks, and you cautiously enter as you receive no reply, looking around. “Hello?” When you don’t get a response, you decide to take a closer look. “Such a dirty place…” You think out loud, “Maybe if I clean up a bit, whoever lives here may help me.” You nod to yourself and walk over to a broom that rests against the wall and grab hold of it. You get swept away cleaning and then cooking before you slowly make your way upstairs, noticing seven large beds, making you wonder who lives here. 

“I hope they won’t mind if I…” You ponder, going over to a bed that reads ‘CRANKY’ and sitting for what was supposed to be a second. The moment your body hits the mattress, your eyes flutter closed, and a deep slumber hits you with full force. 

You wake to someone or something poking you. Your eyes flutter open, blinking as you notice many different men surrounding you. You gasp, scooting to the headboard, pulling your knees to your chest. “Oh, please don’t kill me! I–I promise I didn’t do anything wrong!” Your bottom lip wobbles and your gaze shoots between theirs frantically, wondering if the Queen also sent them. 

A man with blue eyes and his hair in a man bun scoffs. He crosses his arms over his chest, and your eyes land on one of them being shiny. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my bed?” A growl practically escapes his lips, and his eyes scan your body with a lick of his lips. 

You gasp, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I–” You're cut off as you try to get out, but a larger man stops you. His light blue eyes and blonde hair cause your breath to catch in your throat. 

He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Don’t listen to him, ma’am. We are just startled, is all.” He turns his head, glaring at his best friend before looking back down at you. “Now, why don’t you introduce your pretty self and explain why you think we would kill you?” He sits at the end of the bed, resting a comforting hand on your leg. 

“Oh, I do apologise. Where are my manners? My name is Y/n, but I am more known as Snow White.” The men are shocked, wondering what the princess is doing in their cabin. “The Queen is trying to have me killed, and I don’t know why. S–she sent the huntsman out, and he chased me through the woods until I was able to escape, and that is how I stumbled across your home.” 

A throat clears, and you turn your head to look at another man who’s built like a bear, with pretty blue eyes and blackish hair. “She wouldn’t be trying to kill you for no reason. Tell us what you really did. You can’t really be that innocent.” 

“I–I swear–” The man touching your leg interrupts you, giving you a soft look.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. I can see that you are innocent. I mean.” He looks around at the men with his brows raised. “What innocent person would break into someone’s home and decide to clean and cook? The breaking in part obviously doesn’t sound great, but look at her. She needs help.”

The man with the blackish hair speaks again while nodding. “You’re right. I apologise. We’ve been rude and haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Clark, but these bastards call me Bossy.”

The man touching your leg smiles. “And I’m Steve, better known as Brawny.” He points to the man with a permanent scowl on his face. “That’s Bucky. We call him Cranky, though.” Bucky rolls his eyes, wondering why the hell they haven’t moved you from his bed yet. Though, he has been having a great time imagining you tied to it while he pleasures you.

Another man with a flirty smile leans against the bed, coming close to your face. “I’m Johnny, yet these guys call me Sleazy. No idea why. I would’ve said Flirty.” Johnny wiggles his brows, loving the shy look that crosses your face.

A man with a beanie and dirty face and hands nods. “I’m Curtis, known as Dirty around these wankers.”

Your eyes land on a man drinking what seems to be alcohol, and his eyes are half-lidded as he stares at you. “I’m Dean or Tipsy. Whatever you prefer, but I’m hoping to make you scream one of them later.” Your eyes widen.

Your attention is pulled away from Dean or Tipsy to a darker man touching your arm, looking at you with a smirk. “I’m Sam, baby. But you can call me Horny.” You blink, stunned, never having heard such words come out of a person’s mouth before, but you know that you cannot judge as you did break into their home.

“O–oh, it’s nice to meet you all. Such interesting names.” You fold your hands in your lap and look around at each one of the men. “I would like to cook you, men, some dinner as a thank you for not kicking me out.” You watch as they nod, and you give a soft smile to Steve, who helps you off the bed. You head down the stairs, and all seven men follow behind, watching your hips sway beneath the dress. They sit, watching as you start to heat the food. It’s magical to them. You turn around, the food nearly ready. “Please go and wash up before dinner.” 

“What? No.” Bucky growls, refusing to get up from the seat while the other men immediately stand and head out. Steve grabs hold of his best friend and drags him out, ignoring the shouts and yells. “Steve! Steve! Stop!” 

You shake your head, turning back toward the pot, stirring it before you turn off the stove and grab hold of it, bringing it to the table and setting it down. “Dinner!” You watch as the door swings open, and the men walk back in with smiles, smelling clean. “Don’t you men look dashing!” They thank you before taking a seat, watching you with wide eyes as you fill their bowls with the delicious-smelling stew. 

Clark tilts his head as you take the pot back to the sink, noticing that you didn’t make a bowl for yourself. “Are you not eating with us?” The other men stop with their spoons midair, looking between you and Clark. “Come, sit. You deserve to eat the food you cooked.” Clark pats his thigh, raising a brow when you don’t move. “I’m called Bossy for a reason. Now, sit.” You scurry over, taking a seat on his thigh, feeling a weird tingling sensation between your legs as you feel how thick his thighs are. “Good girl.” He nods to everyone, and you all begin to eat. Clark occasionally brings the spoon to your mouth, feeding the two of you. 

During the night, you get to know all of the men, laughing and listening to stories. Steve stands, clearing his throat. “I hate to interrupt this wonderful evening, but we have work tomorrow., and I think it is best if we get some rest” The others agree, and you get up to bid them goodnight, practically tucking them into their beds and placing soft kisses onto their foreheads. You are about to head back downstairs, needing to find somewhere to rest, but Steve stops you. “Y/n, here.” You spin, heading over to him with furrowed brows, wondering what he is talking about. He pulls back the blanket and pats the space next to him. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude more than I have.” You gnaw on your bottom lip, feeling like you’ve been a bother. “I can find somewhere else to sleep. I saw a blanket downstairs.” Steve gives you a look that makes you quickly crawl into the bed, and your body shivers when you realise how cold you’ve been compared to the warm man. Your body curls into his larger one, sighing as sleep takes over you before you can even register.

You wake to birds chirping and the sun shining through, your eyes flutter open, and you stretch your arms above your head. You slowly pull Steve’s arm off of you and get out of bed, making your way downstairs, and you decide to prepare breakfast for the kind men. You cook eggs, bacon, pancakes, and a fruit platter, wanting to give them a filling meal for their big day. You smile and turn as you hear the men bound down the stairs, dressed for work with hunger in their eyes. “Good morning! I thought I’d make you guys some breakfast before you go. I hope you don’t mind.” 

They smile, thanking you before sitting down. The same happens as the night before. Clark pulls you into his lap and feeds you some of his breakfast, ensuring you also get to eat. You stand once you finish, gathering the dishes and walking over to the sink, gently placing them down before walking to the door and handing the men their coats.

Clark is the first one to grab his coat, thanking you. “I hope you have a good day today.” You lean up, resting your hand on his muscular arm and kiss his cheek softly. Clark smirks, tipping his head before walking out the door.

Steve is next. Once his coat is on, he leans down for you to reach his cheek. “Thank you, Snow.” Steve turns his head and returns the favour, kissing your cheek and smiling as you become shy. 

Bucky huffs, “Can we hurry this up? We have work to do if you haven’t noticed.” But everyone ignores him, and he watches with envy as you continue to give each man a kiss.

Curtis gently takes his jacket from your tiny hands, closing his eyes as he feels your soft lips on his cheek. A smile on your face, “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

Johnny walks up next, smirking at you and already leaning down. You give him a soft smile and lean forward, but he turns his head last second, and you gasp. “I–I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” You freak, staring wide-eyed at the happy man. 

“Don’t worry bout it, Baby.” Johnny winks, giving your arse a smooth pinch before strolling out. You feel your body and cheeks heat up, eyes still wide as you watch him leave.

“Well damn. He did it before me.” Dean rolls his eyes, slapping your arse after you give him a kiss as well. “Doesn’t matter. Have a good day, Sugar.”

Sam pulls you close, tapping his cheek before resting his hands on your hips. He groans as you lean up and kiss his cheek softly. His hands move down and squeeze your cheeks, pulling you even closer. “Mmm, Snow. You make a man so feral.” 

Once Sam leaves, it leaves the last man, the crankiest of the lot. Bucky grumbles, going to reach for his coat, but you pull back slightly and give him a pout. He rolls his eyes, bending slightly, and when you gently kiss his cheek, his whole face grows pink. “Whatever.” Bucky clears his throat and quickly leaves, leaving you in their cabin all by your lonesome, not prepared for what is to happen next. 

You hum to yourself, beginning to clean the place. You don’t notice the magic swirling around you, calling the forest animals to the cabin, some even helping you clean. You wash the men’s clothes, and the birds hang them along the line. You are so lost in your own world that you don’t notice an older woman watching you from the shadows, a scowl on her face, but the older woman also doesn’t notice the large black wolf watching her. 

You giggle, leaning over to pet the cute little bunny that hops in your direction before you walk inside the house. Your hands become busy as you begin to prepare another apple pie, continuing to hum to yourself. “Excuse me.” You turn, hearing a knock at the open window and someone talking. You smile softly, walking closer to the older woman. “I–I’m so sorry for bothering you. I am just a poor old woman trying her best to sell some delicious apples.” 

You lean against the counter, peeking over the window sill and looking at the basket of apples. “That is perfect! I’m baking an apple pie and in need of some apples!” You give an innocent smile to the older woman.

She reaches her hand into the basket and grabs a big red apple that sits at the top. “Take a look at this big red apple.” She holds it up to your face, watching you stare at it in wonder at how perfect it looks. Your hands slowly reach up to touch it, but the woman jerks it back. “Lovely, isn’t it? But you cannot touch without a price.” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, looking between the woman and the apple with furrowed brows. You desperately needed more apples to make the pie. It had to be perfect. “I need that apple… But I, uh, I don’t have any money.” 

She thinks, knowing that this apple contains something horrible. The Queen realised there was no point in a price when she would finally have you dead. That was good enough. “Oh, my dear. No need to worry for a first-time customer. I will let you have this apple for free.” You look at her, shocked, cupping the apple as she hands it to you. She watches you, desperately wanting you to take a bite out of it in front of her, but she doesn’t get her hopes up.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! How can I ever repay you? You are so kind. Please let me give you something!” You go over and grab a plate of freshly baked biscuits, heading back over to her. She tries to refuse, but you persist. “Oh please, It wouldn’t feel right if I were to take this for free. Please take as many as you want.”

“Okay, thank you. That is kind of you, my dear.” The older woman takes one, bidding you goodbye before disappearing into the shadows again, wanting to watch what unfolds. Her eyes widen as she watches you begin to cut the apple, mixing it into the mixture of the pie. She thought the call of the apple would cause you not to resist a taste. “Oh, no, no, no! This won’t end well. You stupid girl, you should’ve eaten the apple yourself.” She huffs, stomping her foot. “The poison only works for those it is intended for… If she serves it to others, it can have side effects, and I do not need that in my hands.” She growls to herself, knowing that she will have to put a stop to this or kill more people than intended. 

Before the Queen can return to the cabin, she is met with the giant black wolf. Its teeth bared as it growled. She scoffs, waving it off. “Be a good puppy and leave. You can’t destroy the Queen.” Her eyes widen as your hums begin again as you place the pie in the oven, and she realises that you are the one controlling the animals, even if you don’t know you are. In the moment of shock, the wolf lunges, and your sweet melodies drown out her screams.

You are happy with how the pie has turned out, placing it on the window sill to cool down. You wait patiently for the men to return home, sitting curled up in a chair with a book between your hands. You’ve made the house more into a home, having gone out and picked some pretty flowers to put in a vase, gathering some wood for the fireplace, and keeping the food warm for when they walk through the door, their clothes all folded neatly. You stand when you hear them, their voices carrying through the air. 

Clark opens the door with a smile, “Hello, Little Snow. I notice that you’ve been busy.” He moves past you, brushing his hand across your hip as he moves to the pot, smelling the delicious scent. 

The rest of the men enter, Steve, being the second after taking his shoes off and giving you a large grin. “Snow! Did you have a good day?” You nod, giggling as he brings you into a hug. He lets go of you and walks over to the pot also, not used to coming home to dinner already prepared.

“Sugar!” Johnny enters, pulling you into him immediately by gripping your arse in his large hands, causing a squeak to fall from your lips. “You look so good. I could just eat you up.” He grumbles when Dean and Sam push him to the side. “The hell?” 

“You're hogging her,” Dean grunts, pulling you against him, and your eyes widen when you feel him grope you so freely. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re so tiny.” He blinks down at you, and you get a whiff of the alcohol already on his breath. 

Sam grows annoyed, pushes Dean out of his way and pulls you against him also. “Don’t hog Snow here. I want some too.” His large hands grip your arse, rubbing his bulge against you, groaning softly. “How you doing, baby?” 

Curtis and Bucky stand near the entrance, watching everything unfold. You smile softly at Sam as you let go, walking over to the two men and ignoring the shocked gasp they let out as you pull them into a hug, greeting them with your kindness. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and I’ve made a pie for dessert!” You skip over, waiting for them all to take their seats before you grab the pot and serve the food. Dinner goes well, and it’s finally time for them to taste your sweet pie. You walk over to the pie, carefully picking it up before bringing it to the table and serving them a slice each. “I hope you guys enjoy.” 

The moment the pie hits their tongues, the magic begins to flow through everything and everyone, eyes turning a bright pink for a split second before they let out soft groans from the flavour that explodes on their tastebuds. You don’t notice anything that has happened. You are too happy to see that they enjoyed your baking. 

The atmosphere in the room has changed. Every single man in the room felt their heartbeat quicken and their breathing become heavier. Their eyes are half-lidded, and their members harden, growing rapidly in their pants. It seems their gaze is set on you, eyes darkening as they look you up and down, slowly getting out of their chairs and surrounding you. 

“That was a great pie, Little Snow,” Clark growls, getting closer. “But I want to taste something a little bit sweeter.” You squeal as Steve and Bucky hold you, ensuring you can’t move as Clark kneels, lifting your dress and letting out a thick groan when he realises you haven’t been wearing anything underneath, your folds slick with your juices. “Aren’t you a dirty little girl? Wearing nothing while staying with a bunch of men.” You moan as he surges forward, licking from your hole to your swollen button. “Fuck, she tastes so much better than that pie.” Your walls clench when Clark moves close again, gripping your thighs as he nuzzles his face into your soaking cunt, licking and sucking. 

You whine as Steve grips your chin, turning you to face him and locking his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Bucky groans. The hand that isn’t gripping you moves to your plump breasts and squeezes and fondles them. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark begins to suck on your swollen clit. You whimper into Steve’s mouth before gasping as a finger softly pokes against your entrance, breaching into it with a slow thrust. Your head falls back onto Steve and Bucky’’s shoulders, not noticing the other men rubbing their bulges through their pants, watching the scene before them with dark eyes. 

A choked whine escapes you when Clark curls his fingers while Bucky and Steve suck on your hardened nipples, swirling their tongues around. Your back arches, hands gripping their shirts as your vision becomes white and your juices flow out of your sopping cunt, covering Clark’s smirking face. “Fuck, Little Snow. You taste even more divine.” He curls his fingers in, happily watching how you twitch, your arousal still flowing out. “Men, clear the table. We are in need of a different kind of dessert.” He commands, standing to his full height and stepping aside. 

Steve and Bucky pull you toward the table, carefully setting you down and stepping back. All of the men stand and admire how beautifully blissed out you look. Johnny stumbles forward, his hardened member already hanging out of his pants, and you gasp as your gaze falls upon it. “T–that won’t fit…” You begin to shake your head as he slips between your spread legs, pulling you flush against him. 

Johnny smirks, tapping your cheek. “Dumb little sugar. I’ll make it fit. You’re so fucking wet. I’ll slide in so easily.” He reaches down and grips his throbbing base, tapping his leaking tip against your swollen clit before lining up against your entrance. Johnny groans when he pushes in, gasping at how tight you are around him. “Oh god! You feel so good, Sugar.” His hands grip your hips, slowly pulling out before thrusting into you harder. A grin forms on his face at how your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out a sob as his tip hits your sweet spot.

You are suddenly lifted, and your eyes widen when you feel something poking your already stretched hole. Your head turns slightly, and you notice Sam giving you a cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, Snow. I’m just gonna join in on the fun.” You gasp when he slowly begins to push in, stretching you even more alongside Johnny. Sam’s head falls back, and he groans, “Holy fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” His grip tightens on your hips, and the thrusting begins between the two men. When one pushes in, the other pulls out, and your screams fill the cabin. Johnny pulls you into a deep kiss while Sam grips your hips and pounds hard into you. “Oh man, can you feel how tight she is?” 

Johnny nods, groaning. “Fuck yes! I don’t think I’m going to last long!” His pace picks up, slamming harder and faster into you before he buries his face into your neck as thick amounts of cum spurt out of his angry tip. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Johnny slips out of your stretched hole, sagging into a chair as Sam pulls you down, pounding into you from behind, thrusting Johnny’s cum deeper into you. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sam slams into your sweet spot, causing your walls to clench around his thick member and your juices to squirt out of you.

“Good little princess,” Sam growls into your ear, slamming his cock harder into you before burying inside of you, releasing his cum deep into you. “Fuck.” Sam moves back, the magic draining out of him, and he sags next to Johnny, their eyes fluttering closed. 

You squeal when you feel someone grabbing the back of your head before you start gagging as Curtis shoves his thick member into your mouth, thrusting in and out. “Jesus.” His head falls back, and his eyes half-lidded. “You’re mouth is so warm.” His hands hold your head, and he pulls out slowly before thrusting in again. You moan around him, swirling your tongue around his swollen tip before starting to suck, loving the salty taste that lands on your tastebuds. 

Dean smirks, gripping his throbbing member and tapping his angry tip against your used folds. He lifts your hips before sliding in, groaning at how tight you feel wrapped around him. “Damn, sweetheart. How are you still so fucking tight? You were just stretched by two cocks.” He begins to set his pace, pounding into you, pushing you to choke on Curtis’s cock. “Go on, sweetheart. Choke on his cock.” He groans, fucking into you faster. His tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot, loving how you feel as you squeeze his cock. “Shit! I’m so fucking close!” 

While Dean is busy chasing his orgasm, Curtis holds your head down and thrusts into your throat. His head rolls back as you moan around his member. “Such a sweet mouth for a sweet woman.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks, gagging around him, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when Dean fills you, setting off your orgasm, causing your arousal to coat him, and the vibrations from your moans cause Curtis to groan and release deep into your mouth, gripping your chin until you swallow and show him. “Good girl.” 

You whine as both men pull out and watch through blurry eyes as they also sag into the chairs. Your head flops down onto the hardwood table, breathing heavily. “Do you think we are done with you, Doll?” Bucky steps up, a pink swirl in his eyes as he peers down at your used form. “There’s still three of us.” You gasp when he picks you up, wrapping your legs loosely around his hips while lining his tip with your entrance. Steve steps behind you, and his hand strokes his cock up and down. Your eyes roll back, and your head flops onto Steve’s shoulder as Bucky pushes in. A loud whine escapes you when Steve follows suit, slipping his giant cock through your tiny hole. 

Both men begin to take turns pounding in and out of you. Clark steps forward and grips your chin, turning your head to capture your lips with his. “Who knew Snow White was secretly a whore. You like being used by seven men, honey?” You moan, nodding and clutching onto whoever you can. Clark grips your throat softly, making your dazed eyes look at him. “Of course you do. Only a little whore like you would like being used. No wonder the Queen wanted to get rid of you.” He moves closer, smirking as Steve and Bucky pick up their pace, causing your mind to go fuzzy. “She couldn’t have any competition because you’d end up stealing the attention of men away from her.” You nod along, barely hearing anything that leaves his mouth, too focused on the intense pleasure coming from between your legs. 

Steve presses forward, his hands kneading your breasts as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You feel so good, Snow.” He begins to kiss your collarbone and shoulders, groaning as you tighten around him. He picks up his pace, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch, a loud groan escapes him as cum spurts out of him, filling you to the brim. “Fuck…” He pulls out, sagging into a chair, his eyes falling closed. 

Bucky moves you, pushing you against a wall and pounding hard into you. “Fuck, take my fucking cock.” He grunts, bouncing you against his thrusts, filling you repeatedly. “You better take my fucking cum, slut. It’s what you are made for.” His metal hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, feeling his cock throb when your eyes widen and your walls spasm, squeezing the life out of his cock. “Oh, what a dirty little slut you are. Who would’ve known you liked being choked.” Bucky smirks before he grunts, burying himself deep inside you and releasing large amounts of cum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The moment he pulls out, his body does the same as the others, and before you can fall, Clark catches you and gives you a dark smile. 

“Oh, poor Little Snow. You should’ve chosen another cabin.” Your eyes widen when his eyes flash, and his cock fills you immediately. Even though the Queen was dead, it didn’t mean her minions died along with her. They just now had a mind of their own, a darker, more twisted mind. Your moans and screams echo outside the cabin. Clark’s member was bigger than the others, practically splitting you open. He growls, gripping your throat tightly. “You better find a way to wake the others when I’m done with you because you are ours now.” You are suddenly bent over the table, surrounded by the sleeping men, your nails dig into the wood, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as Clark slams deep into you. 

Your vision goes white as he repeatedly hits your sweet spot. Your juices squirt out and cover him and everything around. Your head hits the table as he continues before filling you with his cum, mixing with the others. You barely have time to register Clark’s body dropping as the magic leaves him. You shakingly stand, your legs wobbling, and you grip the table beneath as you look around and take in the sleeping bodies, or so you thought. You stumble over to the closet man, which happens to be Steve and feel his pulse. 

Your eyes widen, and your body drops as a wail escapes you, magic exploding from your body as you release every emotion you’ve been keeping in. Your eyes begin to close, and the last thing you hear is the men coming back to life, their hands grabbing you and bringing you upstairs. 

Come morning. You would learn never to trust strangers. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hangover 5

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

You help Will fold his laundry. You refuse to do all of it but he’s brought enough that you feel bad letting him do it by himself. Besides, it’s a good opportunity to chat. A better one to distract yourself. 

Despite the time passed, a whole night, and your best efforts, you can’t shake your drive with Officer Storm. It’s impossible to forget the cold air and your nakedness. The humiliation lingers and has you restless. As you tuck away the last pair of socks in Will’s bag, you wince as he says, “mom?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” You step back. 

“You okay? You been quiet.” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, just tired,” you muster a smile, “work has been a bit much, you know?” 

“Right, yeah,” you see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, “mom...” 

You laugh, but not meanly, “how much do you need, honey?” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t be,” you wave off his apology. He shouldn’t be sorry. You know he’s only asking you because his father said no. You’re bum ex can’t be arsed to pay any tuition, so why would he cover any other expenses. “I’m sure I can figure something out.” 

“Yeah, you know, I wouldn’t ask unless... unless I really needed it. There’s this internship. It’s like kinda a grant but there’s an application fee so...” 

“It’s good,” you pat his bones chest, “Will, it’s money. If you happy and healthy, I’m happy.” 

He smiles offers a one-armed hug. For a boy his age, that’s a big gesture. You accept it but can’t help making it two-armed. You squeeze him tighter than you mean too and he wheezes as you cling to him. 

“Mom! I was just home two week ago.” 

“I know, honey, I just... missed you,” you stay as you are. He sighs and wraps you up. You rock him, closing your eyes against the sudden swell of heat behind them. “I love you so much.” 

“Mom, I know,” confusion laces his voice, “Mom,” he rubs your back, “I love you too.” 

You sniffle and dip your head down, hiding as you draw away from him. You roll your eyes back against your tears. You hold onto that feeling, of your son’s hug, it’s enough to chase away that heavy weight in your hips where Officer Storm had held you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He scoffs. 

“Yeah, I... menopause,” you laugh off but it’s not as breezy as you intend. “Old ladies and their hormones.” 

“Right,” a shade of skepticism lingers in his voice. 

The doorbell rings suddenly and you both jump, laughing at the fright. You shake your head and tramp down the hall to answer it. Will hovers in the doorway but doesn’t follow.  

You open the door and nearly shriek. It’s him. Officer Storm. He smirks and his eyes twinkle. He winks and tilts his head pompously, reciting your name. 

You gulp, “sir?” 

“Mom? Is that a cop?” Will comes down towards you. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it, son,” Storm says, “I’m just doing my good deed for the day.” He flicks up a card between his thick fingers, “this was turned in down at the station. A king samaritan found it on the pavement.” 

You fight a tremour as it rises, “thank you, officer.” 

“Not at all, ma’am,” he holds it out between his index and middle fingers. 

You take it and look at it. It’s your ID. Or maybe it’s a trick. 

“Everything okay?” Storm asks. 

You flinch and nod, “of course. I appreciate you bringing this by.” 

“That’s what I do,” he winks. “You have a good day.” 

He nods and backs up. His eyes rove up and down before he turns and struts away. He has the type of swagger men who don’t last more than a minute have. You shudder and shut the door. 

“Nice of him,” Will says. 

“Sure,” you agree as you twist the lock into place. 

You turn back and walk to the kitchen. As you grab your purse, you can barely get it undone. You remember picking it up from the car seat, the bite of frost in the air, the noise of the police scanner. Your wallet falls out of your grasp as you pull it through the zipper. 

“Mom,” Will says, “you’re shaking.” 

“I’m fine,” you insist sharply, “I just... I didn’t sleep well. I need a coffee.” 

He stares at you, concerned tautening his jaw. You look back at him and nearly whimper. He isn’t much younger than that officer. A decade at most between them. Could he be like that? Officer Johnny is someone’s son too and he did that to you, someone’s mother. 

“Want me to make you one?” Will sounds afraid. 

“Please, sweetie, yes,” you bend to retrieve your wallet, your lower back twanging with the effort. You fall to your knees and whine, “shit.” 

“Mom!” Will grabs onto your arm, “what is it?” 

“My back,” you snivel, “ow, shoot. “ 

You can’t stand. It hurts too much. Your hips lock as you stay on your knees. You peer down at the floor. You can only see the cold ground lit by yellow headlights. You back seizes up again. 

“Mom, please, get up,” Will begs. 

“I-- I can’t, honey, you’re going to have to help me.” 

“What happened--” 

“Work,” you grit out, “please,” you reach to grab his forearm and manage to drag a leg out and plant your foot, “just put me on the couch.” 

You latch on and he grunts as he helps you up. Any man, even one as slim as him, is stronger than you. You lean on him heavily and waddle stiffly, moaning with each step, and nearly collapse onto the couch. He lifts your legs onto the cushions as you whimper. 

Will steps back and stands straight. He looks at you with worry woven between his brows, “mom...” 

“Hon, I’m fine. Just some advil... and coffee, please, if you don’t mind.” 

“I... I can’t stay past tonight. I have a midterm.” 

“I know, honey, don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine,” you assure him through your teeth, struggling to shift into a position that doesn’t hurt. “Really, I just need to sleep it off.” 

He frowns. You hold back a similar expression though you know you must look miserable already. You hate that he’s worried. He shouldn’t be. You're his mother, you’re supposed to worry about him. It’s just another flare up, it’s okay. 

Just like Officer Storm, it’ll go away. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

shared trauma ~ logan howlett; marvel

word count: 3466

request?: no

description: in which she sneaks away to help them return home, and ends up bonding with the brute with knives in his hands

pairing: logan howlett x female!reader

warnings: swearing, some deadpool & wolverine spoilers, trauma bonding, wade wilson being wade wilson, a good ending

masterlist (one, two, three)

Getting out of Cassandra's compound wasn't as hard as the Others thought. Not when you shut up and played by her rules. She trusted everyone who worked under her enough to let us come and go as we pleased, mainly because she knew we were scared enough of Alioth to come back and be under her control.

The Others also weren't as hidden as they thought. At least, not from me. Lucky for them, I was the only telepath in Cassandra's army, because Johnny's mind gave away everything about the Others without even knowing I could hear him.

When it got dark and mostly everyone had turned in, I snuck out of the compound. I could see the hiding place of the Others in my head, and I knew it would take me a long time to get there on foot, but I needed to get there. There was something about these variants - this Deadpool and this Wolverine - that was different. They may be the key to my freedom from Cassandra. Maybe to all of our freedoms.

I travelled for so long that my legs burned and I felt like I was going to pass out, but I got there. Immediately I was hit with the sounds of several brains, all thinking about a plan to take down Cassandra. All except one, but it was hard to make out what was going on in that head over the wounds of everyone else. I pushed into the place, a silence falling over the room as they heard me enter. I winced with every step I took down the stairs. When I appeared in the doorway, I was greeted by a barrage of weapons.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, putting my hands up.

"You're one of hers," Blade stated.

"I came alone," I insisted. "I...technically snuck out."

"How did you find us?" Elektra asked.

"Let's just say Johnny Storm's mind was just as loud as his mouth. Look, I'm not here to hurt you guys. I'm here because I think those two - " I nodded to Deadpool and Wolverine " - may be who we need to take Cassandra down."

"And why would you want to take down Cassandra?" Blade questioned. "She's your leader."

"Not by choice. I followed her because I knew it meant survival. But I'm telling you, I see something with those two. I'm clairvoyant as well as a telepath, and when those variants were with Cassandra I could see a fight that ended with her downfall."

The group shared a look. Well, all besides the Wolverine, who was halfway through a bottle of whiskey. He seemed to be ignoring everything going on. I realized his mind was the one I couldn't hear. It was almost like he was trying to block out any thoughts. Not because of me, but because he didn't want to have to think those things.

"We could use a clairvoyant," Elektra pointed out.

"This reading you got form us," Deadpool said. "Did you see all of us winning?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't work like that. Some scenarios aren't definitive, and some are. I saw that we'd fight her, but after that there's a number of different ways it could go. All I saw for sure was that Cassandra was taken down and everyone in the Void was finally free from her reign."

"Sounds like a shit power," Wolverine muttered.

"She could tell us how to avoid the bad paths," Elektra said.

My legs were starting to ache in a way I couldn't handle for much longer. "Can you guys make a decision soon? I walked all the way here and my legs feel like they're about to snap off."

The group, minus Wolverine, shared another look before X-23 - Laura - nodded and said, "We'll give you a bed. Once you're rested, we'll come up with a plan."

~~~~~~

I laid awake that night while everyone else was asleep. We had come up with a plan to attack Cassandra's compound, one that should be mostly successful for everyone if the input from my visions helped at all. Everyone else had gone to bed with hope of a successful mission at sunrise, but I was wide awake with thoughts of going against Cassandra. Unlike everyone else, I had been part of Cassandra's team for a very long time. I had seen the things she did to people who opposed her. Despite the fact that my visions should give us a leg up in this fight, I was still scared of the consequences if we lost.

There was a stir in the air that told me someone was awake. I heard movement and the sound of a glass bottle being picked up. Logan didn't notice as I rolled over to face him. He was already walking up the steps and out of the hideout. It took me all of ten seconds to decide to follow him. This Wolverine may have been a grumpy Gus, but trying to speak with him would be way better than laying in the silent room struggling to sleep.

I followed him into the woods, where he had already started a small fire. He was sat next to it, hunched over with a bottle of Gambit's whiskey. I was shocked there was any whiskey left at this point, but who was I to judge someone else's coping mechanism.

His back straightened when he heard me approaching. "I don't want company."

"Good thing I'm not here to keep you company," I said, sitting next to him but keeping enough space between us. "I'm here to see if you'll share the liquor you're stealing."

To my surprise, he willingly gave me the bottle without hesitation. I took a big mouthful, which proved to be a bad idea when the harsh liquid burned my throat. I winced at the burn and gagged once I had it swallowed. Logan let out a low chuckle. "Not your usual drink of choice, huh?"

"Actually, I've never drank," I responded, passing the bottle back to him. "I was pruned before I was legal drinking age, and Cassandra doesn't have alcohol at her base."

"You nervous to fight your boss tomorrow?"

"She's not my boss. I'm not part of her team by choice. I already said that. You saw Alioth, you saw what he can do. I was young, I was scared, and she promised to keep me safe."

There was a pause. I wouldn't look at him. I knew coming here was a risk. I knew they wouldn't completely trust me. I just wished they would understand I only sided with Cassandra to stay safe and alive.

Logan broke the silence when he asked, "How young?"

"What?"

"You said you were young, below the legal drinking age. How young?"

"I was a teenager," I responded. "Mid-teens, I think."

"What does a teenager do to get themselves sent to this hell hole?"

I shifted in my seat. No one had ever asked me my backstory before, so I never had to reveal what I was most ashamed to admit. "Do you have Hydra in your universe?"

He nodded. I sighed and said, "My parents...they worked for Hydra. They...they let those Hydra scientists experiment on me. Trying to recreate something as powerful as the serum that created Captain America. Except, instead of making me super strong, it gave me the ability to read minds and see the future. Weirdly enough, the TVA doesn't like anyone that can change the future."

"They didn't get you to join them? Seems like your powers would've been perfect for a time variance agency."

I chuckled humorlessly. "That's not how the TVA works."

"You were a kid."

"That's not how the TVA works."

When he didn't respond, I found myself becoming aware of the silence. Like, of the actual silence. I couldn't hear a single thing Logan was thinking. No one could truly block me out. At least, no one I had met. Not even Cassandra could keep me out completely. I looked over at Logan, trying to focus on him, but still I couldn't hear anything.

"I don't like people poking around in my brain, bub."

I smiled a little. "I can't help it usually, but your brain is weirdly silent. No thoughts, Wolvie?"

"They're none of your business."

I left it at that. Despite my abilities, I wasn't one to pry into other people's thoughts. I heard things by accident, but I wasn't searching through people's heads for their trauma. Actually, it was nice to not have Logan's voice in my head. It was true silence that I had not had in years.

"Are you really not coming with us?" I asked him.

"I'm not a hero," he responded.

"You sure about that?" I eyed his yellow suit. "It's not about being a hero, though. It's about going home."

"There is no home for me to go back to."

His mental walls cracked for just a moment then. I could hear something coming from his mind; the faint calling of his name. No, not calling. Screaming. It was multiple voices, but it was just a faint whisper to me. At the same time, an image came through in his mind. It was a woman with red hair and brown eyes. We didn't have any variants of her come through the Void before, but I had recognized her from the minds of other X-Men who I had crossed paths with: Jean Grey.

Just as quickly as those thoughts slipped out, Logan managed to pull them back in. I wasn't sure if he was hiding them from me or from himself, but either way they were gone. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew I had heard something, and he was not very happy that I had.

"You don't have to tell me," I said, my voice soft. "Or...or show me. But whatever it is going on that has you like this, I'm sorry it happened."

His face was hard as stone, but I could see in his eyes that there was a flux of emotions.

"I lost people," he admitted. "Everyone I loved in my universe. It was my fault and...I just couldn't live with that. I did things...things I regret. Things that could never bring those people back."

"You could be reunited with them in another universe."

He shook his head. "It won't be the same. Every other universe already has a Wolverine. The only one that doesn't is the Mouth's, and that's because he died. I couldn't go back there and put them through seeing me and opening up old wounds. Besides, I don't think I could see them again either. Too much guilt."

I could see Jean's face again, just for a moment, before she was gone again. I could feel Logan's grief; his guilt. The more he opened up, the more his mind became easier to read.

I moved closer to him. Not by much, just an inch to test the waters. When he didn't react, I moved closer again until the space between us was almost completely closed. He looked up at me, but for once he didn't have that scowl on his face. He looked curious by my actions more than anything. I didn't try to push his boundaries any further than just being close to him.

"Good people do bad things sometimes," I told him. "It doesn't make you a bad person."

"I'm no hero, kid," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Neither am I. None of us are here. But that doesn't mean you can't become a hero."

I wasn't sure if it was the whiskey, the fire, or just how close I was to Logan, but I felt a rush of heat washing over my body. I knew I was definitely feel the effects of the alcohol because I was swaying involuntarily. I started to lean in closer to him, but tried to stop myself as best I could. He seemed amused by it, at least, which made me smile more.

I let out a yawn and stood. I stumbled a little, causing Logan to reach out for me to steady me.

"Are you gonna be able to get back on your own?" he asked.

"I think so, but if you see me passed out along the way do me a favor and carry me back," I said. He chuckled and I tried not to beam too much about it.

I started to walk away, or more like stumble I guess, when Logan called, "Did you see me there tomorrow? In your visions?"

I turned back to him and responded, "Maybe. You'll figure that out tomorrow."

~~~~~~

Good news is, the battle at Cassandra's hideout went well. We took down every one of her cronies, and when Cassandra had left with the army of Deadpools to go to Deadpool-10005's universe, we commandeered her place to keep us safe from Alioth.

Bad news is, Wolverine and Deadpool got out, but the rest of us didn't.

No one really seemed upset over that fact. I mean, besides Laura, who was already missing the variant of Logan ("He may not have been my dad, but he was a version of dad," she had said when she realized he had left without her). Blade, Elektra, and Gambit were more proud of themselves for saving the day, even if it meant not going back to their own realities. I guess I was happy to no longer be under Cassandra's control, too, but I found myself wishing I could've left this place too.

And I found myself dreaming about Logan.

Well, partially dreaming. Some of them were visions.

It's not hard to differentiate between dreams and visions. I don't often get visions when I sleep, but when I do I can feel that they're visions. It's hard to explain other than that. Some nights I found myself dreaming of us by the fire again, except this time I allowed myself to get close enough to Logan to touch him. It very rarely went further than my shoulder against his, sometimes my head against his shoulder. But the visions I had were us together in an apartment I didn't recognize. At first they were all the same - me, Logan, and Wade living domestically in some apartment in New York. Laura was there once too, but only one time.

But then once the vision ended with Logan's arm around my waist and his lips against my forehead. I had woken up with a start before anything else happened.

It was the only vision that showed me with him romantically, but I knew deep down inside of me that that's what I wanted. I mean, Logan is an attractive man. No one could deny that. I may have only known one version of him briefly, but still it was enough to leave me longing for his presence again.

It was just another new normal day in the compound previously owned by Cassandra - I was in my own room reading one of the few books Cassandra had somehow found and kept - when an orange door shaped portal opened. I recognized it as a TVA portal. I sat up quickly, my guard high as I waited for a TVA agent to walk through.

But it wasn't an agent.

It was Logan.

"Come on, kid," he told me. "I'm taking you home."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I was up off my bed and through the portal. I expected to be brought to the TVA first, but I was surprised to find myself in a small apartment.

The apartment from my visions.

I looked around, taking in every detail of the place that I had already seen in my head before. Everything was there, from the pictures to the crude drawings Wade had stuck to the fridge, to the mattress in the middle of the living room where Logan slept. Everything from my visions.

"This..." I said, but paused before I finished the sentence. Did I tell him I had been seeing this place? Did I tell him that I had been seeing us?

When I didn't say anything further, Logan said, "I know it's not your home. But...I wasn't sure if you'd want to go back there."

"I don't," I said quickly. And it was true, I never wanted to go back there. After what my parents had done to me, it was almost a blessing to be sent to the Void. Besides being forced to do Cassandra's bidding.

Logan nodded. "Okay. So...well...welcome. You can stay here as long as you want. It'll take some time to get used to actual society again, I'd assume. The Mouth lives here too - "

As if on cue, the front door opened and there stood Wade, being followed by the mut I once knew as Dogpool.

"Ah! You got the girl!" he said, ushering the dog into the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him. "Finally, he can shut up about seeing you again."

Logan's face turned a shade of red I never expected to see from The Wolverine. "Wade, shut the fuck up."

"What? I'm just saying you've been brooding around this place for ages because we had to leave her behind. You finally have her back. Oh, and Laura! You guys can be one big, happy, fucked up family."

I looked over at Logan. "Laura's here?"

"Not staying with us, but she is in this universe," Logan said. "The TVA agreed to let us save you guys from the Void. Gambit, Elektra, and Blade are all gone back to their own universes now."

"Hopefully one where Gambit can find a better dialect coach," Wade added. "And you get to stay here with us! Isn't that just great? You get to share a bed with Wolvie."

"Only if you're comfortable with that," Logan quickly added, shooting another glare at Wade.

"Of course she'll be fine with that. Better than sharing a bed with Blind Al. Actually, can we switch? I'd much rather cuddle up to the greatest showman."

Logan raised a fist to Wade and unsheathed his claws. It was enough for Wade to finally stop running his mouth and scurry off to his room, the dog following closely behind him. Logan pulled his claws back in and let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to take in at once," he said. "It's a lot of explaining."

"I can figure it out, I'm sure," I said. "Thank you for saving me."

"I should be thanking you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't do anything."

"After our talk by the fire, I realized you were right. I was letting the shit I did get to me for too long. I forgot who I was, or who Charles wanted me to be. I just needed a little push from a different mind reader."

I smiled at him. "You just needed someone to tell you you're not a bad person. It's insane to me that no one had done that before I did. Just cause you did bad things didn't mean you were ever a bad person."

There was a pause, then suddenly I was being pulled towards him. Before my mind could comprehend what was happening, Logan's lips were against mine. His hands were holding my face, holding me to him. It took my brain a few seconds to register what was going on before my hands were reaching for his shirt, holding him as well.

Our moment was swiftly interrupted by a familiar merc exclaiming, "Finally!"

Logan pulled away from me to glare at Wade over my shoulder. I heard the bedroom door slam shut again.

He looked down at me. "I'm sorry that you will have to put up with that."

I giggled. "I guess it's a small price to pay if it means I get to kiss you more."

His smile was so beautiful. It really brightened his face after all the brooding and scowling I had seen him doing before. "I'll kiss you as much as you want, bub. Just gotta make sure Wade is locked away in his room if you want it to be any more than kissing."

"Awe, no fair!" came Wade's voice.

Logan and I shared a look before Logan said, "Maybe we start looking for an apartment of our own."

The suggestion caused my mind to fill with another vision: Logan and I in a small place similar to this one, but one that was just our own. The two of us tangled in sheets, completely naked, with the glow of the sunrise spiling through the blinds onto us.

I smiled, both at the vision and at Logan. "I would love that."

[nerdy-novelist017]

Omg hi!!!🧚🏻‍♀️

I just wanted to pop by and tell you how much I LOVE your writing and content, makes me kick my feet reading about Benny and Bunny😫🙂‍↔️I was just wondering if mayhaps you’d write something in which Bunny gets mad at Benny for something and gives him the cold shoulder hehe. You mentioned in your most recent installment of them how she’s done that when pissed at him and I just thought it’d be so interesting to see an upset Bunny and groveling Benny😏perhaps involving the topic of jealousy or miscommunication. Have a good day/evening and feel free to ignore my yapping!!!🙈🐇

Thank you so much for your kind words! 🥹You're so sweet!!! I could never ignore your yapping, friend! Sorry this took so long to post but I wanted to get it right since this request is so stinking cute! I was going to break this up into two parts because I got a little carried away but I figured you guys probably don't mind the longer posts ;) Please let me know your thoughts on this as I love reading your comments! Hope you enjoy! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist 🐰

Word Count- 3.4k+

Love, Lids, and Lessons (Benny Cross X Shy!Reader)

Listen, Benny fucked up on a near daily basis. He’s by no means perfect and there was a lot that you overlook because you loved him and he’s still the best man you’d ever met. However, there were times where Benny pissed you off so bad that you simply couldn't excuse him. This happened to be one of those times.

You were standing beside him at the pool table during what happened to be a pretty intense moment of a game that Benny happened to be losing pretty badly. It was the third time you’d approached him, asking to leave. It wasn’t even that late but you had wanted to go because you planned to get up early the next morning to meet your girlfriends for a breakfast date. He’d told you that the two of you could leave soon, after he finished his beer. And then he told you after he finished his game. Then that game became the next game. And the current game which he happened to be losing and maybe it was that his temper with the razzing he was receiving from the members who watched the game but he just didn’t want to have to tell you one more time that you would both be leaving soon. You tugged on his sleeve again and he just said it, without a filter, without thinking. 

“Bunny, you’re being naggy.” 

That was it. Just four words that would cause him more trouble than he even realized. He didn’t mean it in a rude way; He was just trying to tell you what you were doing was annoying to him. He said way worse than that to the boys and they never reacted the way you did. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock, driven speechless by his words. He made a shrugging motion to you that said What? But the low whistled that emitted from Cal on the other side of the pool table did nothing to deescalate the embarrassment he could see bubbling in your face. You snapped your mouth shut, brows pinching together as you glanced at the others who heard. Not many, just Cal, Johnny, Betty and a few others. It was enough. When your gaze found him again there was an undeniable dark cloud in your eyes and he wanted to apologize. But you turned and walked away before he could say anything else. 

“Oh, Benny. . .” Johnny muttered with a grimace but Benny was too caught up in the taunting of the other members around the table to hear him. So he let you storm off, figuring you’d have cooled down by the time his game was over. And shortly after, his game ended (He lost, though he didn’t really find himself caring about that, not with the image of your hurt expression looping in his mind) and he said goodbye to the boys and went to find you. Only . . . you were gone. 

He found Gail who told him you had left with Kathy. He clenched his jaw and nodded. You rarely ever left with someone else, you liked to ride home with Benny. He thought maybe you were just tired and Kathy was probably leaving at the same time but a little voice in the back of his head told him it was more to it than that. He tried to ignore the way the ride home was quiet without you on the back. And when he walked through the door, you were not in the entryway where you normally stood waiting for him. No, you weren’t even in the kitchen where he’d sometimes find you during a midnight craving. Something uncomfortable gripped at his heart and he stood in the kitchen for a long time, trying to come to terms with the fact that you probably left. 

Trudging up the stairs to your bedroom, his heart skipped a beat when he saw your form laying in the bed, back facing him. He resisted the urge to go to you, sensing the way your shoulders stiffened that you were still awake. He undressed slowly, taking the time to decide what he wanted to say to you. But even as he pulled back the covers and crawled in next to you, no words ever formed in his mouth. Instead, he tried a different tactic. He pressed himself up against your body, sliding his hand over your waist, traveling it up to your breast as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

You brushed his hand away. “I’m not in the mood, Benny.”

His hand moved down to your hips instead to take it in another direction but you gripped his wrist and moved it back to his side. “I’m serious. I’m tired”

Okay, you were upset about what he’d said. He sighed and rolled onto his back, moving back to his side of the bed. He waited a few more seconds to see if you’d follow him like you normally did, but you remained steadfast in your spot so he reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off, the room filling with darkness. He laid in that darkness for a long time, contemplating what to say, what to do. 

When Benny woke the next morning and his hand drifted over to you, he found your side of the bed empty. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was still early and you almost never woke up before he did. And if you did, you just wanted to snuggle with him in bed. With an odd feeling in the pit of his gut, he got up and dressed, seeking you out. He found you in the kitchen, wearing an apron with little flowers embroidered on the fabric. You stood at the island, frosting cupcakes that he didn’t know you planned on taking with you. 

“Mornin’,” he said as he approached, making his way over to make a cup of coffee. You only hummed in response. He turned back around to face you, leaning against the opposite countertop, feeling as though the space between you was as wide as an ocean. He watched you for a moment as you set down the cupcake you were working on, the delicate desert now freshly adorned with baby pink frosting. You reached forward to start on the next one and that’s when he spoke again. “You need help with that?” 

“No,” you replied, avoiding eye-contact. A heavy silence filled the kitchen as he sipped meekly at his coffee and you finished frosting the cupcakes. It’d be better to just rip off the band-aid, he decided. He wasn’t going to go his whole day pretending he didn’t know that you were giving him your traditional cold-shoulder response. So he said, “You still mad about last night?”

Your eyes flashed up to his for just a moment. “What do you think, Benny?” 

“About what I said? C’mon . . .” He didn’t even mean it in a rude way! Sometimes you were so sensitive and he truly didn’t understand you. Johnny had told him once that women were a completely different creature than them. And as Benny watched you furiously frost your cupcakes, he really felt the impact of that statement.  “I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was a little drunk and–”

“Oh you were drunk?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, in that case, I’ll just let you get away with whatever you want when you’re drunk. Won’t let anything affect me at all!”

Hmm. He didn’t think that’s what you were gonna say to that. Benny hated it when you verbally put him in a corner like this, didn’t let him get away with his half-assed apologies that never actually use the phrase ‘I’m sorry.’ It always made him get defensive, made his temper flare and he’d end up doing more damage than good nearly every time.

“You were naggin’ and you know it. I don’t know if it was because you wanted to go home or if you were jealous that someone else had my attention for a moment and you didn’t–”

“Jealous?” The word echoed off the cupboards. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bunny–” he groaned but you cut him off. 

“Don’t Bunny me right now,” you griped, eyes narrowing as you began placing the cupcakes in the portable carrier he had surprised you with for your birthday a few months ago. “Jealous? You honestly think I was jealous? Or are you just sayin’ that because you want to get a rise out of me?”

“Well, I’m just tryin to say–” he stopped short as he caught your sharp gaze. “I just. . . Don’t you think you’re overreacting about this?”

Your mouth formed a thin line, jaw clenching. You stared at him for a few agonizingly long moments before you shook your head, muttering, “You–” 

Benny was dying to know what you were about to say but only observed as you removed your apron, folded it neatly and placed it back in the drawer before you grabbed your portable tray and left the kitchen. Like a moth to flame, he followed you as you went to the door, pausing only to slide your feet into the kitten heels you had lined up at the baseboard. Without saying another word, you opened the door and left. But he trailed after you, standing on the porch, he wordlessly watched as you descended the stairs and walked down the stone pathway to the white picket fencing you had always talked about and opened the little gate. 

“Damn thing,” you grumbled under your breath as you fought with the broken hinge of the gate to close it properly behind you, the sound squeaking obnoxiously. 

“When are you comin’ back?” he hollered after you, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Later.” Was your vague answer before you got into your car and left Benny still standing on the porch, front door ajar and eyes narrowed. 

******

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Benny stood to his full height and took a step back to take in the shiny new hinge on the gate he just installed. He tried opening and closing it a few times, admiring the way it worked soundlessly. Good as new, he thought. Fixing physical things like door hinges and motorcycle parts, those were easy. Benny was good with his hands, he could tinker around and fix just about anything he set his mind to. But fixing emotional things. . . those were not so easy for Benny. Apologies were rare and he’s never one to throw them out like confetti as you so often did. You apologized too much and he’s told you that you shouldn’t apologize for half the things you do. 

He’d had a lot of time to think about what happened and his mood certainly shifted more than once during his front gate project. At first, mild annoyance because what he said to you was hardly an insult. Then, it might have been due to the sun beating down on him while he worked, but genuine anger replaced the annoyance because you were so damn sensitive and there were times he felt he had to walk on eggshells around you. But the anger quickly fizzled out when he thought about how your sensitivity was what made you special. It was what helped you be so empathetic, so caring toward everyone you came across. And by the time he’d finished fixing the gate, the only feeling that smothered him was a painfully present regret. Regret for what he had said, but also for what he hadn’t. An apology was something you deserved, but he didn’t give it to you, not in an appropriate way. 

So when you came home, hours later, he watched from the living room window as your car pulled in front of the house. You exited the car, and he almost held his breath as you opened the gate, taking a moment to open and close it a few times. You definitely noticed he’d fixed it. Good, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear yet.

You came inside and it was clear that you were still upset by the way you moved. He could see your shoulder stiffen when you noticed him there, could see the pouty lip of yours pull into a slight frown. You hardly spoke to each other the rest of the day. You didn’t mention the gate and he didn’t bring it up. 

******

The next morning Benny was up before you, as usual. At least that was back to normal. He went downstairs and started a pot of coffee as he got ready for work. He grabbed his lunchbox, preparing to make himself a lunch for work when he stopped short, noticing that there was already a lunch packed in there, complete with one of your pink-frosted cupcakes. His heart squeezed at the realization that you still packed him a lunch, something you did every workday for him, even though you were upset with him. You . . . the sweet creature that he still didn’t completely understand. And he needed to do something.

Fortunately Benny had another trick up his sleeve, and playing dirty didn’t matter to him when it came to getting your attention again. 

******

You didn’t sleep well last night, laying awake all night with a heartsick frown, wishing nothing more than for the man who lay just within an arm's reach from you to actually comfort you – in a way that you wanted to be comforted. And tears threatened to spill when you realized, even just for a moment, you wished he could be someone who was a bit more empathetic, a bit more compatible to you. This wasn’t the worst thing he’s said and you’ve had your fights over much worse, but in all your time together, this was the first time you’d ever had that thought. Maybe it was because this was the first time you had both ignored it, both choosing to go to bed angry and upset rather than to work through it. The storm in your heart still surged on, albeit a bit more due to sadness rather than anger, as you slipped on your babydoll pink robe over your nightgown. You tried not to think about Benny at all as you put your hair up in rollers and applied your makeup for the day. You couldn’t hide in the bedroom all day unfortunately, so you traipsed downstairs, bare feet padding softly against each step until you entered the kitchen where you found Benny sitting at one of the island chairs, the daily paper spread out on the countertop before him. 

He looked up when he heard you. “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you parroted as you went to the pantry to grab out your ingredients to start breakfast. You started your tea, grabbing the jar of honey off the shelf and a flower mug. You turned your back to Benny and started to twist the lid off the honey jar . . . only it was really stuck on there. Readjusting your hands, you gave it another go, but still it didn’t budge. Setting your jaw in place, you glanced over your shoulder at your husband who was still looking down at his newspaper. Normally, you would immediately hand something over to Benny to open for you, but you were still mad at him which meant you’ll have to go without honey in your tea. 

So instead you started making your bagel for breakfast, a go-to breakfast meal for workday mornings. Popping the bagel in the toaster, you took the homemade strawberry jam out of the fridge and frowned when you realized that lid was also screwed on extra tight too. You turned to face your partner, reluctantly asking, “Can you open this?”

He looked up at you, eyes glancing down at the jam jar and he held out his hand. “I’ll open it for you if you talk to me.”

In no mood to play his games, you rolled your eyes. “Forget it. I can do it myself.”

You turned back around, feeling his gaze burning into you as you grabbed a dish rag and placed it over the lid to get a better grip. You twisted hard, tongue darting out between your teeth as you concentrated on opening it. It seemed as though a mutant with superhuman strength had sealed this lid last – which was strange considering you were the only person in the house who ever used it. You peaked back at Benny who watched you blatantly so you stuck your chin out defiantly as you put the jar back down on the countertop. Fine, you’d just put peanut butter on your bagel instead. You scooped up the peanut butter jar, this time facing him as you twisted the lid and you nearly screamed in frustration when you felt how tightly this lid was as well. 

Wordlessly, he held out his hand across the countertop, waiting patiently as you crossed your arms, mentally debating if you could go without any of these items on your bagel.

Ding! You both glanced over as your perfectly-browned bagel popped up from the toaster. You sighed through your nose, biting your bottom lip as defeat settled in. You grabbed the jam, honey and peanut butter jars and slid them on the countertop before him. 

“Okay, fine,” you admittedly softly and watched as he made it look so effortless as he opened the lid with a satisfying pop. You muttered a quick thanks and reached for the jar but he leaned backwards, holding the jar just out of your reach. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he spoke, eyes earnestly searching your face. “What I said at the bar – about you askin’ to go home. You weren’t being naggy, I should have listened to you the first time. That was my own fault. I was just getting so caught up in that stupid game and it wasn’t even important. Not like you are. And what I said embarrassed you and that was wrong.” He rose from his seat, moving around the counter to stand before you as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his apology. Only a handful of times have you heard those words leave his mouth and you knew he never said them if he wasn’t completely meaningful. You nodded but then remembered his use of vocabulary last night. “And what you said about me bein’ jealous?”

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I’m not apologizin’ for that because you really do confuse me sometimes, Bunny. I thought maybe you were jealous and when you stop communication’ with me, I feel even more lost than usual.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” you accepted as you crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to talk to you when I’m upset. Maybe I want you to do the talking for once.”

He furrowed his brow in thought as he looked over at the toaster. “Well, why don’t we make a promise to each other that we can go to bed angry if we want, but come morning, we talk about it over breakfast. No more putting it off for multiple days. We have to deal with it so that we can move past it.”

You considered that for a moment. “Yeah, that sounds alright.”

He took your hands in his own and dipped forward to place a soft kiss to your cheek. When he began to pull back, your hand flew up to gently encase the side of his face, holding him there as you met him halfway and kissed his lips in a physical show to prove you had accepted his apology. And if that wasn’t good enough, you whispered against his lips, “I forgive you.”

His arms circled around your waist pulling you into his lean frame in a tight hug that seemed to melt away all the stress that built between you two. 

“How did you know that I would use the honey today?” you asked with a tilt of your head, figuring he must be the reason for the right lids. 

“I didn’t. I tightened all the jars.”

“Benny!” you laughed, playfully slapping his bicep. 

He lowered his hands behind your hips, lifting you quickly onto the kitchen countertop, grinning at the squeal you let out at the sudden shift. 

“Let me make it up to you, Bunny? Please?” he begged, voice teasing but you could see the sincerity, the desperation in his ocean blue eyes.

���I’m gonna be late for work,” you giggled as he buried his face into the spot between your jaw and collarbone, that sweet spot he knew got you weak in the knees every time he placed his mouth there. “I need to leave in a few minutes.”

“You might wanna call in sick then,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed up your neck, “‘Cuz I got plans for you that’s gonna last longer than a few minutes.”

-Tag List-

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[ellethespaceunicorn]

*gulp* This was amazing.

Never read a Johnny fic before and this was beautiful.

Love the way you write 😍

summary. | You have a hard time saying ‘no’ to your sugar daddy.

prompts . | Johnny Storm + sugar daddy + “The night’s still young.” + obsession, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!sugar daddy!Johnny Storm x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, obsession, possessiveness, smut, mentions of multiple rounds, power imbalance, sugar daddy/baby relationship, fingering (f), masturbation (m), vaginal sex, cum play, overstimulation, poor dom etiquette, Daddy kink, allusions/mention of non-consensual videotaping, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

He tells you that you’re insatiable. He just can’t get enough of you. You’re the most perfect girl ever—he can’t spend a moment apart from you.

But that doesn’t really explain your sugar daddy’s absurd rules. 

He’s strict about you not spending time with other men. He hates seeing what’s his in the hands or presence of others. It was hot at first. But you’ve grown tired of Johnny’s possessiveness. He seems crazy about you, and as much as you enjoy the attention, you swear you cannot breathe. 

“Fuck, princess, you look so good,” he grunts, groping your tits. They sit in the fabric of the expensive lingerie he bought you for tonight. 

As you lay in his large bed, you feel helpless. Part of you regrets the arrangement, even though you have no monetary issues anymore.

You’ve gone from making Ramen daily and barely paying rent to eating expensive food every meal and living in a penthouse. You know you shouldn’t complain, but the idea of a man funding your every want and need makes you shudder.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” Johnny says. You two aren’t very far off in age, but there is a noticeable difference in power. He could do anything to you—but what can you do to him? Not much; just showing him your body and spending every waking minute with him. “I love it when you touch me, Daddy.” Your words are forced out of you as he plunges his fingers into your used pussy. He’s fucked you twice already, yet Johnny is still hard. It’s both sexy and frustrating—you can never get a break. His libido is something you almost always think about.

“I know you do, baby. Fuck, this pussy is so messy,” he groans, dragging his digits against your sensitive inner walls. Johnny’s cum leaks out of you, and he stops his movements every now and then to smear his seed against your swollen lips. “‘M full of your cum, Daddy…”

There’s no denying that the wealthy man can make you feel euphoric. He’s skilled and gifted, making you wonder why he’s so loyal to you. You don’t think you give him much in return—just your body and soul, but in a world of riches, isn’t that the bare minimum?

“Yeah, you are. You’re leaking with it, princess. It’s so hot,” Johnny husks, and he’s tempted to pull his phone out and take a few pictures. But he knows he can’t—not while you’re still on your back, at least. 

He brings you to the precipice of another orgasm, allowing you to teeter over the edge. Johnny doesn’t really care about giving permission when you want to come—he just has one rule. 

You must thank him. 

Not ‘thank you, Johnny’—no, certainly not. He hates it when you use his given name, especially since it breaks another rule of his. It’s ‘thank you, Daddy,’ whether you like it or not. 

“Fuck—thank you, Daddy!” you whimper out, limbs twitching as you clench around his fingers. “You’re welcome, baby.” His cock throbs, desperate for you to touch it in any way. 

Johnny thinks about taking your mouth next, just to give your pussy a bit of a break. He loves it when you choke on his dick, especially as he fucks your face. 

You come down from your high and are hit with a pang of exhaustion and discomfort. You just need a few minutes, perhaps even a snack and a drink of water. You’d even go as far as to say that you don’t want to continue.

“Uhm… Johnny?” you question, wincing as you see that he’s stroking his dick. He pulls his fingers out of you and moves them to your clit, which is just as overwrought. Johnny’s jaw clenches at the sound of his name. “What?” he spits out, voice harsh. He gets like this quite often, and it’s made you grow scared of him just a bit.

“Do you– Do you think we can stop for tonight? Please?” you request. You would give him your best-begging eyes, but he’d probably just want to fuck you even more. “Stop? Why would we do that?” he laughs, pressing down harder on your nub.

You whimper from the friction. “I’m just tired. I mean, there’s always tomorrow, right?” you reason, looking up at Johnny with a sweet smile. He mirrors it before it drops from his face suddenly. “Hmm… I don’t think so. You don’t call the shots here, baby. I do.”

His words are as you predicted, but hearing them makes you want to cry. 

Your sugar daddy continues his assault on your body, using you for pleasure. “And, besides,” he continues, taking your dominant hand and placing it on his cock. He makes you stroke him. “The night’s still young.”

[hynzsn]

★ SAFE HAVEN ★

☆ johnny suh x male reader

-> boyfriend!johnny x depressed!reader

꩜ .ᐟ hurt/comfort, fluff

contents: caring!johnny, established relationship, reader has daddy issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms (not eating, isolating), implied/referenced emotional abuse (from reader’s father), swearing, hugs, pet names (babe, baby), reassurance from johnny

wc: 2.7k

summary: you’ve been mia for weeks - ghosting calls, barely eating, and basically becoming one with your bed. the voice in your head, it sounds a lot like your father, and it keeps telling you you’re worthless. good thing johnny’s voice - one that whispers sweet nothings and promises of forever - is even louder.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[8:37 PM] 📱-> johnny 💝: yo, babe wtf?! you alive over there?? it’s been a minute…

[8:37 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: okay, jokes aside… please text me back. i’m worried about you 😔

[8:41 PM]📱-> johnny 💝: …

[8:45PM]📱-> johnny 💝: i’m coming over.

the messages sat unread, another three little gray bubbles added to the ever-growing count on your lock screen. you didn’t even bother to glance at them before letting your phone clatter back onto the mattress.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who always had it together, the one who could handle anything life threw at you with a smirk and a sarcastic quip. but lately, the mask had been feeling heavier, the edges digging into your skin, the forced smile making your cheeks ache.

you’d been spiraling for a while now, the familiar darkness creeping in like a fog, suffocating the joy out of everything. it started subtly – skipping meals, pushing deadlines, letting texts go unanswered. then it escalated, the isolation becoming a comforting cocoon as you withdrew further and further into yourself.

your phone buzzed again, the insistent vibration making you flinch. you knew it was johnny. he was the only one who still bothered, who saw through the carefully constructed facade you presented to the world.

he’d seen you at your worst – the breakdowns, the insecurities, the ugly crying sessions fueled by cheap instant ramen and self-loathing. and through it all, he never judged, never wavered. he was your rock, your anchor in the storm that raged within you.

but even rocks could crumble under enough pressure, and you couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him down with you. so, you did what you always did – you pushed everyone away, retreating into the fortress of your own making.

[9:36 PM]

a sharp knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. you froze, heart hammering in your chest. you weren’t expecting anyone, hadn’t spoken to another soul in days.

the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“fuck,” you muttered, dragging yourself out of bed. your reflection in the darkened tv screen made you wince. you looked like a ghost – pale, gaunt, with dark circles etched beneath your eyes.

“i’m coming, hold on!” you called out, your voice raspy from disuse.

as you fumbled with the multiple locks on your door, a wave of dizziness washed over you. you leaned against the wall for support, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

the door swung open, revealing johnny standing in the hallway, his face a mixture of relief and concern.

“hey,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in your disheveled appearance.

“hey,” you mumbled back, avoiding his eyes.

“can i come in?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, allowing him to enter.

the moment he stepped inside, johnny’s face fell. the air was thick with the smell of unwashed laundry and stale takeout containers littered the coffee table. the curtains were drawn, casting the apartment in a perpetual twilight.

“jesus, babe,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “what the fuck happened?”

you shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “nothing. just… tired.”

he didn’t buy it for a second. he crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into a hug. you stiffened initially, surprised by the sudden contact, but then you melted into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm to your aching soul.

“don’t lie to me,” he murmured into your hair. “i know something’s wrong. you’ve been mia for weeks.”

you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne – a comforting mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled by his shirt. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“worry me?” he chuckled humorlessly. “you scared the shit out of me, you know that? i thought something had happened to you.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, the words catching in your throat.

he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were filled with concern.

“talk to me,” he pleaded. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the tangled mess of emotions that had taken root in your mind, choking the life out of you?

“it’s just…” you started, your voice cracking. “everything feels… pointless. like i’m just going through the motions, you know?”

he nodded slowly, encouraging you to continue.

“i feel like i’m drowning, johnny,” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “and the worst part is, i don’t even know why. i have no reason to feel this way. i have a good life, a great boyfriend…”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “it’s okay to not be okay. you don’t need a reason to feel the way you do. sometimes life just throws you a curveball, and you just gotta roll with it.”

his words, so simple yet profound, struck a chord within you. you had always felt the pressure to be strong, to have it all figured out. but maybe it was okay to not be okay. maybe it was okay to ask for help.

“i hate that you’re right,” you said, managing a weak smile.

he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. “that’s my boy.”

he pulled you back into a hug, this time tighter than before. you clung to him, letting his strength seep into you, chasing away the shadows that had been haunting you for so long.

“you know i’m here for you, right?” he murmured against your hair. “always.”

you nodded, burying your face in his chest, unwilling to let go. in his arms, you felt safe, protected from the storm raging within you.

“always,” you echoed, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down your cheek.

johnny didn’t let you go for a long time, holding you close as if he were afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip. the steady beat of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body pressed against yours – it was a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

when he finally pulled away, his expression was serious. “okay, enough of this moping around,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “first things first, we’re getting some real food in you. and i’m not talking about that instant ramen crap.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a look. “don’t even try it,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “i know your eating habits have been shit lately. i can practically see your ribs.”

he was right, of course. you hadn’t had a proper meal in days, surviving on a steady diet of instant noodles and self-pity. but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

“i’m not really hungry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

he raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “right, and i’m the tooth fairy. come on, babe, humor me.”

he didn’t wait for a response, instead taking your hand and pulling you towards the door. you stumbled after him, your legs shaky from disuse.

“where are we going?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“my place,” he replied over his shoulder. “my fridge is stocked with enough food to feed a small army. and before you protest, you need a shower and a change of clothes, sweetheart. you reek of despair and instant ramen.”

he said it with so much affection, you couldn’t even be embarrassed. he was right, though. a shower did sound amazing.

the drive to johnny’s apartment was a blur. you sat in the passenger seat, watching the city lights stream by, your mind racing with a million thoughts per minute.

as he pulled into his parking spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy. his life seemed so…put together. he had his dream job as an idol, a spacious apartment with a view, and everyone adores him.

you, on the other hand, felt like you were constantly playing catch-up, like you were always one step behind everyone else. your dead-end job at the call center barely paid the bills, your apartment was a testament to your inability to adult properly, and theres the fact that… well, you feel completely lonely. sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were holding johnny back, embarrassing him. you and johnny have been together for a while now, but the thought of what he actually see’s in you still lingers in the back of your mind…

“you coming?” johnny’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was already out of the car, holding the passenger door open for you.

you forced a smile, hoping it reached your eyes. “yeah, sorry. just lost in thought.”

he gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. he knew better than to push you when you were like this.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

his apartment was everything yours wasn’t – bright, spacious, and impeccably decorated. you felt a pang of guilt, realizing you hadn’t even bothered to tidy up before he came over.

“go on, shower’s in there,” he said, gesturing down the hallway. “towels are in the linen closet. i’ll find you something to wear.”

you almost protested, but the feel of johnny’s softest t-shirt in your hands stopped you. it even smelled like him. you quickly showered, washing away the grime and the lingering sadness that clung to you like a bad cologne.

stepping out, you found the promised clothes on the counter. you pulled on the soft t-shirt, the scent of him enveloping you like a warm hug. it was comforting, familiar. safe.

you found johnny in the kitchen, already dicing vegetables with practiced ease. he looked up as you entered, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“there’s my boy,” he murmured, his gaze lingering for a moment on how his shirt hung on you. “feeling a little more human?”

you nodded, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “yeah, i think i am.”

he was right. a shower, his clothes, his presence – it was already working its magic.

“good,” he said, his smile widening. “make yourself comfortable, baby,” he said, gesturing towards the plush sofa. “it’ll be ready soon.”

you sank onto the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of contentment. you had forgotten how good it felt to be here.

“so,” he said, his voice coming from the kitchen. “talk to me. what’s got you so down?”

you opened your eyes, watching as he moved around the kitchen with an ease that never failed to amaze you. he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hair tousled from running his fingers through it a million times.

you sighed, running a hand through your damp hair. “it’s just…everything,” you mumbled, not wanting to burden him with your problems.

he stopped what he was doing, turning to face you, his expression serious. “don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm. “don’t shut me out. talk to me.”

you hesitated, unsure of where to begin. how could you possibly explain the suffocating weight of your father’s expectations, the constant feeling of never being good enough, the fear that you were destined to end up alone and miserable just like him?

“it’s stupid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“nothing you say is stupid,” he reassured you, walking over and sitting down beside you on the sofa.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “it’s just…my dad called.”

johnny’s face hardened. he knew how much your father’s words could cut you, how deeply his disapproval ran.

“what did he say?” he asked, his voice tight.

you closed your eyes, the memory of your father’s condescending tone, his thinly veiled insults, sending a shiver down your spine.

“the usual,” you mumbled. “disappointment. failure. you know the drill.”

you opened your eyes to find johnny watching you, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.

“he’s an asshole, you know that right?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re worth ten of him, and don’t you ever forget that.”

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but the truth was, his words, as much as they stung, had a way of burrowing under your skin, planting seeds of doubt that were hard to shake off.

“it’s not that easy, johnny,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “it’s like…it’s like his voice is always in my head, telling me i’m not good enough, that i’ll never amount to anything.”

johnny wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. you could hear the steady thump of his heart, a comforting rhythm against the chaos of your own thoughts.

“then we fight back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “we drown out his voice with other voices – voices that love you, voices that support you, voices that remind you of your worth.”

he tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes, usually so full of warmth and humor, were blazing with a fierce intensity that took your breath away.

“you are not your father,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you are kind, you are talented, you are worthy of love. don’t ever let anyone, not even your own blood, tell you otherwise.”

his words, spoken with such conviction, such unwavering belief, pierced through the darkness that had settled over you. for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark igniting within the ashes of your despair.

“what would i do without you?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

he chuckled, the sound a balm to your soul. “probably starve to death in a pile of dirty laundry,” he teased, his tone light despite the seriousness of the moment.

you swatted his arm playfully, a genuine smile finally reaching your lips. “hey, i’ll have you know i did laundry last week,” you retorted, even though you both knew it was a blatant lie.

he laughed, the sound echoing through the apartment, chasing away the last vestiges of darkness.

“alright, alright, i believe you,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “now, how about that food i promised you? i’m starving.”

he stood up, pulling you along with him. you followed him into the kitchen, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

as he moved around the kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious meal of kimchi fried rice and bulgogi, you watched him with a newfound appreciation. he wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your best friend, your confidante, your rock. he was the one person who never gave up on you, even when you had given up on yourself.

you ate in comfortable silence, the only sound the clinking of chopsticks and the occasional contented sigh. it was amazing how something as simple as a good meal and good company could make the world seem a little less bleak.

after dinner, you helped johnny wash the dishes, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm as you worked side-by-side. as you scrubbed a particularly stubborn pot, you felt his gaze on you.

“what?” you asked, looking up at him with a questioning smile.

“nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s just… i’m glad you’re here.”

you knew what he meant. he wasn’t just talking about being physically present in his apartment; he was talking about letting him in, letting him see the real you, the broken, messy parts that you usually kept hidden from the world.

“me too,” you whispered, leaning against him, seeking his warmth, his strength.

he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“you’re safe here, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “safe with me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, soothing the ache in your heart. In his arms, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were craving. he was your safe haven, your refuge from the storm.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what life threw your way, you’d be alright, with him by your side.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

13 — THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS BAD THOUGHTS, ONLY YOUR ACTIONS TALK

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad.

<- previous part | next part ->

You’d, somehow, forgotten just how… vibrant two of your oldest friends were.

With the blades of the helicopter still spinning, the deafening sound of aircrafts around you, and a steady mist of rain, your body collides with another.

“Oi, watch it!” You exclaim, a beaming smile stretched over your features as the bulky, oblivious man squeezes his arms around your torso and buries his head into your neck. “You smell like gunpowder. And your fiancée.”

His voice comes out muffled against your skin. “And you smell like cheap body wash.”

He squeezes you once more before finally letting you go, his dimples deep and hair soggy with rain. You study his features, the sharpness of his jaw and the dusting of brunette against it. Him. One of your oldest friends in the military.

He looses a breath, eyes meeting yours and his hands falling to your shoulders, a comforting weight. You don’t have any words, can’t find them, so all that leaves your lips is a single name.

“Alex,” you whisper, voice breaking in the middle, heart a sore throb in your chest.

The storm clouds above paint the world around you in harsh greys and physical manifestations of sadness – but in it all, your light has arrived. 

And how powerful it is.

“Moonflower!” A deeply familiar, feminine voice shouts, and you spread your arms wide and accept the body that crashes against your own. Your laugh is startled and pure, but relief and serotonin floods your system as warm as the embrace you’re surrounded in.

You’d found solace and even a home in your solitude, your loneliness, but now? 

Now, with the only two people in your life that have remained by your side, no matter the distance, holding you in their embrace?

It feels like family, even if you know there isn’t a space between the two of them for you to fit in – no crevice large enough for you to ever comfortably merge.

A foster family, maybe. Or a found one, however tenuous and distant.

“I missed you both so much,” you murmur, voice cracking slightly. You clear your throat, inhaling a trembling breath as you squeeze your eyes shut and rest your face in the crook of her neck. She smells of an odd mixture of her usual perfume, and Alex’s cologne.

You wonder if you’ll still have enough limbs attached to get to their wedding, by the time everything has been dealt with.

If you’ll even have a head attached.

It’s a small eternity (or maybe a few seconds, or maybe a few years) until she pulls away, a glint in her eyes that seems a concoction of pity and strength.

“You look stunning, Farah,” you grin, and your cheeks burn with the odd sensation of joy.

She crinkles her nose, dark stray hairs flying across her face from the continuing wind of both winter and the helicopter. Her skin glows with health – and you realise, then, how even with the stress of reconstructing a nation, she’s happy. Honest and unrepentant and golden. A survivor of war, but a survivor nonetheless.

Raising a brow, she returns, “You look like shit.”

A chuckle leaves your throat, the familiarity that is Farah’s honesty akin to a hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around a freezing frame.

“You look like you’ve been injured,” Alex adds, a small wince gracing his features. He’s miraculously found himself once more at Farah’s side, not unlike a loyal guard dog. 

A guard dog guarding a lion, maybe, but a guard dog nonetheless.

“Unlike you two,” you chastise, folding your arms and burying your cold hands in the space between your bicep and breasts, “I’m at war.”

“With the guy we warned you about,” Farah raises her brow, voice acidic and biting. “The guy we told you was going to ruin your life?”

“There’s a difference between ruining my life, and quite literally ruining my life,” you counter, watching a cloud of breath hang in the air, chilled by the evening cold, before dissipating into the breeze.

“He can continue ruining your life inside,” Alex cuts in, a hand falling against the dip of Farah’s spine, and the other moving to rest between your shoulder blades. He applies just enough pressure to be convincing, but not demanding.

It may as well be a demand, however, with how weak your mindscape seems to be in the face of comfort and familiarity. 

The base seems small, even with the short distance, a reminder of how self-contained and cataclysmic your life has become (has always been). It’s well past eight, now, and with the winter hours it’s almost pitch black already. A few stars decorate the black landscape, this far out from most light pollution. Your eyes stray to the glistening balls of flame, and you wonder if someday soon you’ll find yourself amongst them.

Two duffel bags hang off of Alex’s shoulder, and it sparks your interest. 

“How long are you two planning to stay?” You ask, as if they’re merely old friends staying for a weekend, catching up over bottles of wine and damaged decks of cards. 

They both shrug, almost in sync. Your heart thunders in your chest at the small display of how attuned they are with each other – how in love. It’s Farah who answers, simply, “However long it will take.”

When you look down to your boots, ripples of water against sleek concrete cascading beneath each footfall, it’s merely to hide the stretch of a smile that braces your chapped lips. Your voice is small, uncharacteristically vulnerable, when you mutter to the ground, “Thank you.”

“We owe you, hell, we owe you more than a dozen lifetimes for what you’ve done for us,” Alex scoffs, the gratitude rolling off of him unlike the rain soaking his long-sleeved v-neck. 

“Let’s just call this even, then,” you retort, lifting your head once more, allowing them both to see the softened curve of your mouth, the gentle slope of your brows.

The rain has paused its pouring, but a whole other kind of thunderstorm awaits the three of you in the entry of the base.

When you’d called Farah and Alex – just two nights ago, mere minutes after finishing your meal with Ghost and Soap – you hadn’t spared many details about Graves. You’d told them of your betrayal, of your thoughts, of the adrenaline rush that was that last fight with him.

What you hadn’t disclosed was your increasingly peculiar arrangement with the 141. Or your tryst with Gaz. Or your mess of feelings, as a whole.

So, really, you hadn’t told them much in the realm of everything.

Now, seeing the outline of four starkly familiar profiles, waiting underneath the small awning above the entrance to the base, you regret leaving such vital pieces of information out of your hours-long call.

“This is the one first impression you don’t want to fuck up,” is all you manage to grate out to the two beside you, before you fall into hearing distance of the very imposing image the 141 has managed to portray. Sometimes, you forget how genuinely daunting the four men are, with the different lights you’ve seen them in.

This is not one of those times.

As soon as the light sitting at the door shines against the three of you, Soap startles forward, clad in only a tight-fitting grey shirt, with a hefty leather jacket in his grip. When he reaches you, not even glancing at the newcomers, he pulls the jacket over your shoulders, warm and gun-rough hands brushing the soft skin of your neck as he does so.

“Impatient, lass, runnin’ off into the rain without any feckin’ layers,” he reprimands, without any bite at all.

You’re stumped, for a moment, before shaking your head lightly and stepping away from the utterly confusing man. With a dramatic flourish of a hand gesture, you motion towards your left. 

Thankfully, Soap hadn’t met you too far out, so it only takes a few steps before you’re standing before the other three. A healthy dose of scepticism and tension fills the air between you all, and while you could certainly do without it, it still stings.

Just as you’re about to introduce everyone, despite Soap’s oddly rude behaviour, Price interrupts.

“Bloody hell, small world, ain’t it?” He chuckles, throaty and pleased, muscle-corded arms folded over his chest. His smile is like a beam in the dark of night.

“Thought it’d be a nice surprise, old man,” Farah returns, bringing out her hand for him to shake with a firm grip, both comfortable and at ease in each other’s presence. When Farah goes to pull away, however, Price stops her from doing so with wide eyes, laser-focused on her ring-adorned finger.

“Well I’ll be damned, Alex, how’d you convince her to deal with your arse for eternity?” Price teases, and while you expect the younger man to hit back, he simply beams.

The three seem to be in their own little world, with you, Soap, Gaz and Ghost being left with raised brows. 

“Oh, sorry, guys,” Alex raises a hand, having the decency to look sheepish. His eyes trail along the 141 warily, before meeting your own eyes, relaxing slightly under your gaze. He seems reluctant to break the contact, but does so nonetheless, words directed at the 141 as he says, “Price is an old friend.”

Farah and Price break their quiet conversation, directing their attention back to the group at large. It’s quiet, for a moment, which is a blessing considering the large personalities at hand.

You’re the one to break it.

“Well,” you start, a sudden burst of anxiety sparking in your stomach – you hadn’t considered the merging of your two lives, of past and present, the clashing of…

Oh. God.

Oh God. Oh God, you had almost forgotten that, but if you had, maybe they did, too? Yes. Definitely. It’ll be fine.

(It won’t be fine, you’re more certain, but a little lie to yourself can’t hurt. Much.)

You continue, not a breath out of place despite your internal thoughts, “Farah, Alex, meet the 141.”

Gesturing to the four men, meeting all of their eyes, you then gesture to the other two. “Guys, meet Farah and Alex.”

Silence fills the space between you all for a mere moment – just past a second, really – but it’s damning and heavy all the same. It has your chest tightening and your throat constricting, not unlike a thread of rope being pulled taut around the curve of your neck. 

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Farah says, voice steady and calculated. Defensive, really.

Gaz’s eyes narrow, his voice perfectly even and sickly sweet as he responds, “I can promise you, the last thing Sweetheart needs is to be taken care of.”

It’s… tense.

You’d, of course, expected that it would take some time for Farah and Alex to become anything close to friendly with the 141, but this feels different. A kind of static alights the air, a live wire sensitive to any spark that will instantly set it aflame.

“It’s good to see you again too, mate,” Alex smiles, but a sharp edge lines the curve of his lips. His eyes meet Gaz’s, and they don’t stray.

With a tight smile, Gaz responds, “Likewise.”

Ghost stands farthest from the group, a haunting spectre, shrouded in shadows with his arms folded over his chest and his hip resting against the wall. It’s impossible to see where, exactly, his eyes are trained – but you know they rest on you nonetheless.

Soap’s jacket remains a comforting weight on your shoulders, and although you’re loath to admit it even to yourself, it is miles better than the thin top you’d braved. He’s standing closest to you, on your right, posture straightened and imposing. He exudes a kind of energy you haven’t felt from him before, the closest being when you’d been separated from him post-surgery, maybe.

“Let’s have some tea, maybe, in the common room?” You ask, but it’s not really a request. Your tone is thick with insistence and command, and no one is in a place to deny you.

By the time you all make it to the common room – Alex and Farah comfortably speaking with Price, and you walking silently with Gaz, Ghost and Soap. The latter, especially, remaining a close presence at your side.

A few candles are lit against the windowsill, and a singular lamp sat against the large couch has been lit. No need for the blinding white light of the ceiling – just comfort and familiarity.

It feels at odds with the terse energy at hand, but simultaneously, a blessing.

Alex immediately takes a seat on the far right of the couch, at ease with himself and his surroundings. Gaz sits on the far left, leaving two spots between them. Without a word, Soap’s hand finds your lower back, and he virtually pulls you with him to sit between the two men. 

You find yourself stuck between Alex and Soap, with Ghost, Price and Farah more than happy to stand. Even if there was space, you doubt they’d choose to take a seat.

“We need to find out what Shepherd’s up to,” you speak, breaking the small talk between Price and Farah, as well as between Gaz and Soap. The room falls silent immediately. “And we need to find out what actually happened to my mother.”

The silence continues, and you find yourself pulling the leather jacket tighter around your frame – finding solace in the heat of the two men at either side of you. Your past and your present, both there, both helping.

It’s, surprisingly, Ghost who answers the sentiment first. 

“We’re at your disposal,” he simply says, as if it’s ever that simple. Maybe it can be, maybe it will be, with the powerhouse of a group that’s surrounding you now, with all of your history and feelings and sentiments. 

You can feel the seeds of hope in your chest begin to blossom, begin to shine underneath the rays of sunlight that are Ghost’s words.

“Are,” you roll your tongue in your mouth, feeling the words out before you speak them, “Are you all ready and willing to do this? Because if you’re not, I’m going to get the job done myself.”

It’s true, suicide mission or not. 

“Yer outta yer feckin’ mind if ya think we’re leavin’ ya behind now,” Soap scoffs, relaxing further into the couch as he throws his arm up and around the back of the couch, hand skimming your left shoulder. His thigh presses against your right one.

“You’re stuck with us now, Sweetheart,” Price shrugs, hands in his pockets.

Murmurings of agreement and similar sentiments echo around the group, and you find yourself exhaling such a deep breath that you’re sure it expels some decade-old air that had been stuck in the crevices of your lungs. 

“Hold on,” Farah raises her hand, brows furrowing as her other fist rests at her bucked hip. “What’s this whole Sweetheart thing about?”

Soap’s hand finds the nape of your neck, brushing away your hair to rest a firm grip around the warmed skin. Your heart skips a beat in your chest, and another when he responds, “Simple, aye? She’s a Sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s impossible to quell the growing grin that’s creeping onto your face. “This idiot,” you nod towards the Scot at your side, “Was bleeding out. Gave him some sweetheart lollies to help with the blood loss, and, well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes, his eyes trained on your profile. When you meet his eyes, for a mere second, it feels like an electric shock.

Alex, on your other side, glances at you through the corner of his eyes with a hint of conspiracy. He leans in, mouth just a hair away from your ear, when he asks, “Which one of them are you fucking? Or have they all tumbled into your bed?”

Your elbow to his side is more a knee-jerk reaction to his words than anything, but you’re at least decent enough to wince at his groan of pain. He clutches his side like he’s been shot on the field, head falling to rest against your chest with dramatic flourish. Both Gaz and Soap start, as if about to physically restrain the man, and your unamused gaze immediately finds the Sergeants.

What the actual fuck is up with everyone?

“Not a jealous woman, are you, Farah?” Ghost chimes, voice guttural where he stands just to your left, by the arm of the couch. You can’t say you’d forgotten his presence – even with his silence, it’s a tangible, physical weight on your shoulders – but it still startles you when he speaks.

Farah’s easy smile turns into a cryptic smirk instantaneously, and, fuck.

Maybe, very possibly, most likely definitely: they remembered. Or, at least, Farah did.

Fuck.

You suppose it’s not really a thing you forget, unless your mind’s an overfilled storage room of memories and current events and problems. Which yours most definitely is, and of which theirs is likely not.

“Can’t say I am. Not the first time they’ve gotten handsy,” she shrugs, as if it’s an obvious statement.

As if the room hasn’t instantly dropped approximately ten degrees, and your heart stops where it should be thrumming in your chest.

It’s almost funny, how you instantly train your attention to Gaz. How your mind immediately fears his expression, his reaction to such a thinly veiled sentiment.

What you see is the instant rising of walls, the shuttering of his eyes, and the stiffening of his frame.

You wonder how many missed heartbeats it takes to constitute a heart attack.

“Old fling, were they?” Price asks, because, really, of course he does. When you look to him, he deliberately keeps his gaze on Farah, not giving you a single glance. It’s not jealousy, you know, because it’s Price, and he, in no capacity, holds any such feelings towards you. But it’s something damning nonetheless.

Alex, oblivious idiot that he is, finally pulls his head back up with a sharp laugh. If you didn’t know him, you’d think it was malicious. “Nah. Just thought some experimentation with an extra partner would be fun, and, hey, she is pretty damn hot.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you chastise, suddenly aware of all the points that you and Alex touch – all the points that you and Soap touch. 

“Didn’t realise ye were into that,” Soap bites, abruptly, tone sharp and acrid. You barely suppress a shiver at the shift in the man’s attitude, in comparison to his usually jovial and good-natured attitude. 

“Didn’t realise you were into kink-shaming, either,” you retort, almost startling at your own defensiveness.

Ghost’s hum feels like a reprimand, akin to an owner using a dog whistle on their trusted border collie, or a dominatrix snapping her whip. 

“I don’t think threesomes are a kink?” Alex’s statement ends in a question, a confused look settling over his features. “Like, polyamory definitely isn’t, but what about one-offs? Babe, do you know?”

Farah doesn’t answer, not for a long while. Entirely too aware of the tension filling the room, of the dangerous game she’s about to partake in. The one Alex started, likely unknowingly, but started nonetheless.

“No. It’s not kink. But some of what we did was.”

For, well, not the first time in your life (or even the last week, really), but pretty darn close to it, you consider storming into the weapon supplies and shooting yourself.

“Well!” You exclaim, nervous laughter following the statement, palms clammy where you wipe them against your pants, “Farah, Alex, you probably need some rest, y’know, after your flight. I certainly need it.”

Standing before you even realise you are, you move to get the hell out of there, when Soap’s hand wraps around your wrist, and tugs you back down to sit even closer against him. When Alex’s hand finds your shoulder, you realise distantly that this must be a kind of tug of war. Or piggy in the middle.

Potato, patata. You’re the bait either way.

“The night’s still young,” Price cuts in, and everyone around you seems to nod. “Unless you’re uncomfortable, Sweetheart,” he adds, and the genuinity beneath his words turns into a threat of your pride in your head.

“I’m fine,” you straighten your shoulders, set your nerves. “Just looking out for my friends.”

It’s a lie. You know it, Ghost most likely does, too, and you can only hope that everyone else is ignorant to that small fact.

Subconsciously, you find your attention drifting to Gaz once more.

He hasn’t spoken, you realise, not since Alex had said that. When he catches you watching his profile, lit by the lamp, the candles – he meets your eyes. Not for longer than a second, or half of one, you’re sure, but it hits you like a bullet. When he instantly looks away, you can’t help the sudden anger that stokes the flames in your stomach.

It’s not as if you were openly flirting with either Alex or Farah, and even then, who was he to be mad? You’d been together once, for God’s sake – not for a single moment since. Long days of work and stress and training made the comfort of his bed simply that.

And even then, even then, you were in no way official. Not in any semblance of the word, not with the stakes of the mission at hand, the risk that came with such relationships.

His response gives you half a mind to play up your past on purpose. You won’t, but the urge is definitely there.

It’s not silent, thank god. Alex, Price and Farah have continued a previous conversation, Ghost is silent and brooding, and…

“Didnae pick ye as promiscuous,” Soap states, fiercely meeting your eyes with a swirling of emotions visible within his own. He says the words like they’re poison on his tongue, and, fuck, you’re close to breaking point.

Your responding smile is nothing short of mocking. “Calling me a slut is less wordy, don’t you think?”

“Dinnae put words into my bloody mouth,” Soap seethes, leaning in further to your space, the scent of his cologne invading your senses. You hate how confused it all makes you feel, how unsure of your emotions and goddamn attachments.

“Oh, sorry, does the big bad military man want to tell me what such a big word means? If I don’t have the mental capacity to choose how I have sex, I surely can’t understand your wide vocabulary, can I?” You hiss, bending your neck slightly and not backing away from his posturing for even a moment.

“Soap, stop threatening her,” Price barks, and you distantly remember the people around you, the setting, the image the two of you must make.

You remember, and you can’t seem to find a single fuck to give.

“I can fight my own damn battles!” You yell, not sending a single glance Price’s way – eyes completely remaining on darkened blue instead.

“And that’s why ye still got bloody feckin’ bandages, damn bruises –”

“Do not go there with me right now, Johnny, or I swear to fucking god.”

Both of your chests heave, and you’ve forgotten what even sparked this sudden argument, this spiteful back and forth. You haven’t a clue in this moment, and you relish in it.

“She’s a better damn fighter than the lot of you,” Alex interrupts, “Injuries don’t mean shit, ‘specially not when you don’t know what the fuck she’s gone through.”

Soap directs his ire toward the man at your side, voice thick with anger and his accent when he counters, “And ye know ‘er so much better, jus’ cause ye got in ‘er pants? Aye?”

“Because he isn’t acting like a goddamn meathead!” You find yourself fisting your hand into his shirt, pulling him closer to you, faces inches apart.

“‘Nd kissin’ ‘n tellin’ is fine ‘nd dandy,” Soap laughs, without a hint of humour, “Thought ye had standards.”

A lot of things happen in the preceding moment.

You’d like to say you can’t be blamed for any of the actions that occur, but you also know that accountability is a virtue. And you mean to uphold it.

It goes something like this.

The fist that had been wrapped in his shirt pulls back, and instead, collides with his jaw. 

Arms wrap around your chest, caging your arms to your side. Arms, too, wrap around Soap, pulling him away from you. You’re both yelling obscenities, none of which you can name, and you both fight against your restraints. 

You don’t need to have a full frame of mind to know that it’s Alex and Price holding you back, and through the haze of it all, you’re sure it’s Ghost and Farah keeping Soap away.

“Calm the hell down!” Price commands, voice a beam of light in a storm. It brings you back to yourself, but not enough to stem the bleeding of your anger, just enough for you to recognise it.

“Bloody idiot, Johnny, get it together!” Ghost is saying to Soap, standing in front of him and shaking his shoulders as Farah’s arms remain wrapped around his torso, keeping his fists below his waist.

Gaz is nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t fucking speak to be, Johnny, I don’t want to see your face,” you shout, eyes glassy, before you finally ease into Price and Alex’s grips, their own going lax. You shoulder off their arms, before without a word, storming down the corridor.

Your name’s called out after you, ‘Sweetheart’, ‘Moonflower’ – none of it matters. Not past the roaring in your ears, the spite burning in your veins. The pent up energy of an unfinished fight.

Shoving open the door to your – Gaz’s – room, you startle when you see the man himself, standing in the middle of the room, shirt in hand. The only light comes from the window, the full moon high in the sky more than enough light to serve as a lamp. His sweats hang loose on his hips, his muscles bulging but still lithe, more like a gymnast’s build than a wrestler’s.

He’s never looked better.

Whether that’s the adrenaline speaking, or the anger, you don’t know. Don’t care. Not past the need to have his mouth against your own.

It takes all of two seconds before the door slams shut behind you, and you’re shoving Gaz onto the bed, his own groan answer enough. His brown eyes glisten with the moonlight, and his throat dips when he swallows, focus trained on where you tug off that damn leather jacket. your shirt following.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” you demand, “Unless it’s yes, no, or please.”

He nods, shaky, voice breaking when he responds, “Yes.”

Kicking off your pants, leaving you standing in only your panties and bra, you move to straddle him. He dutifully remains laid onto the bed, chest heaving in harsh sweeps, mouth slightly open in a mixture of shock and lust.

“Where do you get off,” you breathe, voice heavy with threat as you drag your pointer finger along the length of his throat, before following the line of his collarbone, “Being all moody about who I’ve fucked? What gives you the right?”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the weakest he’s ever sounded, “Not – I’m not mad, I just. I want you.”

Your hand finds his neck, forming a light grip around it. You haven’t applied any pressure, but his breath hitches at the weight of it, the promise. 

“That sounded like more than one syllable,” you frown, mockingly patronising. You squeeze his neck, not anywhere hard enough to choke, but enough to have him squeezing his eyes shut. “We can talk later.”

He nods, harsh, quick jerks of his head, and the slightly unhinged smile returns to your face.

You hadn’t gotten the fight you’d yearned for, not with Soap, but this is a good enough replacement for that need.

Dragging your hand down his bare chest, you pause when you see scars. Not healed like those from battle, and ones you recognise. Before you can process what it means, Gaz lets out a sharp gasp, and when you look to him, his eyes are wide and.

And scared.

“No, hey, you can speak,” you ramble, and you can feel the flame of rage dim to sparking charcoal. It should be scary, how quickly you find yourself worried for the man, but it’s not. “It’s okay.”

“I should’ve told you,” he immediately breathes, squeezing his eyes shut once more. His head falls back to the bed once more. “I’m.”

He swallows, and you find your hand gravitating to his throat once more – this time, in a soft, soothing caress.

“I’m trans,” he finishes, saying it like one would whisper a secret in a confessional. Your heart stutters in your chest, and it aches, the idea that he’s had lovers who’ve made him feel so awful about his identity.

Your hand moves from his neck to his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eyes, and they finally flutter open once more.

They soften when they see your smile.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say, voice low and cautious. “If you wanna stop, it’s fine, but,” you shrug, “You’re hot. I still wanna fuck. You might have to show me what feels best, but that’s kinda hot, too.”

“You’re okay with it?” His voice is fragile, shaky, and fuck he’s pretty.

“I’m okay with it,” you echo, sentiment genuine and kind. “Tell me what you want, Kyle.”

His arms remain laid out on the bed at either side of him, his skin still heated with want and need and wanton lust. His voice strengthens when he answers.

“I want you to use me – take it out on me,” he says. “Please.”

And who are you to deny such a request?

author's note. i was veryveryvery close to orphaning or marking as complete. i'm not really in or interested in the COD fandom at all anymore, but, i realised that i also want to see where this story goes? excluding the characters, the actual story and world i've created for sweetheart has me wanting to see it to its end.

that, along with the fans. you guys and your genuine interest and comments have made this project worth it. i can't express enough how much you all mean to me, especially those that comment on every chapter and have been there every step of the way. thank you, thank you, thank you.

i can't promise as efficient and regular updates, but i CAN promise that i plan to finish this story in its entirety.

thank you to those who have stuck around, and thank you for those that continue to do so. you mean the world to me, and the very writing of this fic is owed to you.

(also, if anyone has any feedback on my trans rep and dealing with a trans character, PLEASE lmk. i am in no way perfect, and if i've made a mistake, please tell me so i can fix it and grow as a writer!)

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