#johnny case x reader

[ambrozjas]

the gang on valentine’s day ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes ᰔᩚ

eeee !! i love valentine’s day!! this took me all day and was written w/ much love (and rewritten because i accidentally posted it on my alt), so i hope you guys enjoy it 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

lmk if i missed anything !! i think it’s pretty okay so far

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ DARRY is such a softie on valentines omg

❥ i cant stop imagining you waking up to darry making you breakfast that he got up extra early for you just to make so you two could eat alone

❥ because darry’s so busy with his job, you’ll probably have to wait til after valentine’s day for more gifts?

❥ don’t get me wrong, he’ll make you breakfast, wake you up with soft kisses to your head and a soft “g’morning baby” but that’s all you’ll really get on valentine’s day

❥ he might not be all lovey dovey in front of the boys, but when you both slip into the kitchen he’ll mutter small ‘i love you’s while hugging you from behind

❥ if somebody walks in, he WILL get embarrassed and bark at them to get out while a blush dusts his cheeks

❥ you guys’ll probably head out for a cruise in his car or go to the drive-in while ponyboy and soda stay with the others

“hey.” a distant voice called out for you, a few whispers of your name and a couple of ‘hey’s before you finally broke through that thick barrier of sleep.

you peeked one eye open at darry, watching a soft smile appear on his face at your state.

“you awake?” he asked, turning his head so that he could level his face with yours. you lay on your side as you tilted your head up to meet darry’s eyes.

you made a small ‘mhm’ sound as you blinked the remaining sleep out of your eyes and took ahold of darry’s hand, calloused and rough. the warmth of it made you shiver though.

the warmth didn’t last long though, as darry’s face split into a grin and got up, jogging out of the bedroom. you heard a few clanks of the ceramic plates you had stacked in your guys’ kitchen, before you heard your boyfriend’s retreating footsteps.

your lips curled into a soft smile as you saw him walk back into the room with a small plate, the aroma of bacon and pancakes practically dancing across the room and making its way towards you. you propped yourself on one elbow as darry placed the small white plate on the nightstand next to you and once he had leaned down, you had pulled him by the collar to meet his lips in a chaste kiss.

“i’ll see you when i get off work, darlin’. maybe we can do somethin’ tomorrow.” he mumbled against your lips. you felt his lips curve upwards again as he placed another kiss against yours, smiling when you two shared another.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ SODAPOP, this cheesy mofo

❥ meets you once you get off school or work, crumpled flowers in his hand that he may or may not have stolen from his neighbor’s garden, with a boyish grin on his face like he’s soo pleased with himself

❥ will definitely take you out after he’s done with work

❥ maybe’d he’d do smth the day before??? idk

❥ you guys’d probably go watch a drag race or the drive-in, maybe go to the dingo afterwards

❥ would tease and make steve feel single, even if he had a valentine

❥ writes you cheesy lil love notes in chicken scratch and sticks them on your stuff

soda beamed as he saw your car pull up to the dx and watched you get out of the car, throwing his rag on the counter and jogging to open the door.

“hey steve! you can lock up, right buddy?” he asked, tilting his head up to project his voice further.

when steve had come out of the back room, he rolled his eyes at the sight of you and soda. you had your arm linked around his, head leaning on his chest as you both looked at steve with pleading eyes.

“yeah, whatever.” steve grumbled, cleaning his oily hands with the rag that sodapop threw.

“thanks!” soda said, voice fading as he was already heading out the door with you by his side.

“that lovesick fool’s lucky ‘m such a good friend.” steve growled under his breath, annoyed as he watched you give soda a few kisses before hopping into the car outside.

“where we goin’, soda?” you asked, a wide grin still evident on your face as you looked at him.

“where d’ya wanna go?” he asked, a charming smile glued on his lips as he looked at you. gosh, you were pretty.

you shrugged. “wherever the night takes us.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ PONYBOY is so CUTEEE !!

❥ whatever you do, dont imagine the rosy blush that falls on his cheeks when you catch him gazing at you

❥ and ESPECIALLY dont imagine you and pony meeting up after ponys been slipping cute awkward love letters into your locke so you see him with a sheepish smile when you give him an all knowing look

❥ AND DEFINITELY dont imagine ponyboy curtis sitting with you in class, thighs touching and ankles almost locking with each other because you guys are sitting do close, giggling and bright smiles

❥ okay i’ll stop now

❥ BUT JUST??? DO YOU SEE THE VISION??

❥ he’s the type who writes these poetic ass letters with his rushed half-cursive half-print handwriting and then gets all bashful when you bring it up

you heard something fall on your desk. you looked up from your test paper, pencil held between your teeth as your eyes fell on the small yellow folded sticky note.

you looked at the teacher who was at her desk, checking her nails and unbothered, and grabbed the note, unfolded it to unveil a myriad of hearts surrounding a message in neat handwriting.

“i believe in you.” the words read, you smiled to yourself and threw a small glance at ponyboy behind you, who was averting your eyes shyly.

you mouthed a silent, ‘thanks pony’ and turned back to your paper, tapping the pencil on the desk softly as you thought up another answer, circling a letter.

you bit your lip as your eyes crinkled and a smile took over your face, thinking back to ponyboy’s note.

yeah, you thought, thanks pony.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ oh, JOHNNY

❥ he is so WHIPPED

❥ hes just a lil dude, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he holds out some orchids which he also probably stole from his neighbors

❥ n when you give him a kiss on the cheek it’s literally like he short circuits 😭😭

❥ probably has some chocolates that dallas stole him at the store

❥ hes so cute omg 😭

you looked out of the diner window, swiping a fry into the ketchup on your plate and bringing to your mouth in the process.

the sun blinded you a bit as you looked off into the horizon, into the multitude of cars in the parking lot and houses across the way. but to johnny, you looked absolutely ethereal.

the way the sun gave your face a golden hue made you look like a deity come into earth, he had half a mind to start worshipping you right now in the middle of the diner booth.

“y’wanna get outta here?” you asked, turning your head to face johnny. “we could go to th’a lot ‘n watch the sunset?”

blinking, johnny had snapped out of it. he stammered as his mind tried its hardest to concoct a response.

but seeing you smile as you saw him in this state, he sighed and started over.

“yeah,” johnny said, “let’s go.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ DALLAS is very stubborn, but is also very passionate when he loves somebody

❥ his way of love is like beating somebody’s ass for talking about you and letting you clean his wounds afterwards

❥ he rarely says he loves you, but thinks it’s easier to show it with his actions than his words

❥ probably shows up at your doorstep, no warning, and spontaneously takes you out for a date

❥ it dont matter if you have homework, work, angry parents

❥ this man WILL take you out

“thought y’said you didn’t care about valentine’s.”

“i don’t.” dally said, breath evident as he sighs when he looks upon you. his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled his feet.

“look c’mon, just come with me, will ya?” he asks, waving his hand around as he talked.

the corner of your lips turned upwards as you chuckled at dallas’ state. here he was, standing in front of your door on a cold night in tulsa, when just hours before he was brushing you off and saying valentine’s day was cheesy. if anybody had seen him now, they’d never believe you.

“sure, dallas. let’s go.” you took his hand and stepped out, clutching your sweater as your face hit the cold breeze. you never understood how dallas could wear leather jackets in this weather. maybe he was just too cool for everything, maybe that’s how he blended in with the weather.

he let go of your hand, which made you pout a bit, before he instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders and had a grip on the collar of your sweater.

“you’ll stretch it out, dal.”

“oh, you’ll live.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ STEVE is so cute 😭😭

❥ he tries his hardest guys i swear

❥ he’s a little dumb when it comes to this stuff

❥ steve probably steals one of pony’s valentines grams or whatever, scribbles his name out, and gives it to you

❥ you guys might go see soda or go to a drag race or maybe a car show

❥ maybe he’ll even teach you bout some car stuff, whether you understand it or not 😭

“baby, look! y’see that firebird right ov’there?” he asked, pointing and ushering your body to turn towards the car. steve was practically a kid in a toy store when it came to cars. he knew them like the back of his hand.

“mhm, it’s nice, stevie.” you said, humoring your boyfriend. your feet were practically aching at this point by how long you guys were walking for.

“‘n you see that one over there, too?” glory, how much i’d kill for a car like’at.” you loved steve, but sometimes it frustrated you how oblivious he was to certain things.

as he ranted about, you leaned your head on his shoulder, clutching his arm. you tried to listen to him, really, you tried. but all you could focus on was your throbbing feet, your heels burning with every step you took as you were sure you had blisters already.

how was steve able to be walking for this long?

you tugged on the bottom of his denim vest a little bit, making him shut up and turn his head towards you. “huh?” he asked.

“my feet are gettin’ tired, hun.” you whined with pleading eyes. he stopped for a little bit, contemplating on what to do, before letting go of you. you gave him a puzzled look before he crouched down in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “hop on.” was all steve said.

you laughed a bit, not thinking he was serious.

“you said your feet was hurtin’, didn’t ya?” he asked.

“fine, fine.” you gave him one last chuckle before hopping onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck.

steve was wrapped around your finger, and you both knew that, as you pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek as a thanks.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ dunno why but all i can imagine for TWO-BIT is a drive-in date

❥ you two, sharing a coke, as you both watch a movie as you’re sat in his car

❥ two’s one of those cheesy mofos who while watching the sunset or a nice movie, he’d say it’s beautiful while looking at you

❥ he’s literally my babygirl what are you on about

❥ my underrated king 🙏🙏

“hey!” he shouted for you as he found you, scanning the entire drive-in for him.

he held out a small deformed heart shaped chocolate box, probably from being accidentally sat on, with a cheesy grin on his face.

“awh, you didn’t have to.” you beamed, gently handling the box as he handed it to you.

“swiped it just for ya.” two-bit said, rocking on the balls of his feet as he awaited a kiss, pursing his lips in the process.

you giggled and placed a quick kiss on his dramatic lips, watching how he chased yours after you pulled away.

“settle down, lover boy. let’s actually watch the movie first.” you said, causing your boyfriend to frown exaggeratedly.

“c’mon baby, let’s go get a coke.” you pulled him by the collar of his leather jacket, material rough under your fingertips as you dragged him along.

and boy, did you never hear the end of it. the whole time you were in line, all you heard from two was, “please darlin’?”, “one more?”, “just on the cheek?”. a string of pleas fell from his lips so many times you had lost count.

once you two had gotten your coke and snacks for the movie, you returned to two’s car as he followed you around, dragging his feet like a sad puppy dog.

“i’ll tell you what, you sit through,” you looked up in thought as you tried to find a good estimate, “twenty minutes, and then maybe you’ll get kisses.”

“twenty minutes? that’s like.. a whole year from now!” two-bit exclaimed.

after seeing your face though, he shut up. he really wanted those kisses, even if that meant sitting through a movie while he was all antsy. so all he did, was cross his arms and pout.

it wasn’t long before he got his wish, though.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ yo so who wanna be my valentine?? 💘

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Groovy! ꒱

Pairing :: Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: Johnny starts to crush on Dally's new friend who's a little bit different from everyone else.

Includings :: Hippie!reader, mutual pinning, readers love languages is personal touch, wingman!Dally, panicking!Johnny, this is kinda short, fluff

An - I'm just trying to drop/finish my drafts even though i think this fandom is practically dead...send outsiders requests if you'd like though!

"I still don't get all that peace and love crap, it's not gonna solve anything." Dally scoffed as he walked beside the you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"You don't have to understand me. If you think fighting will solve everything I'll let you think that." You shrugged and Dally rolled his eyes slightly before his brows raised a little bit and he waved his hand up at a figure who was a few feet away.

"Johnny! That you, man?" He called out and the black hair boy froze like he was caught doing something illegal until he saw a familiar face and he eased up.

He walked over, looking over to the you. He took quick notice of your wardrobe, upi didn't look like too much like a Soc and you definitely couldn't of been a greaser.

You wore a white shirt that seemed a few sizes to big and bell bottom jeans that had multiple patches of different patterns along them and tan sandals. You had multiple necklaces on and a mute orange bandana.

You smiled softly at him and waved your fingers at him which made him stomach flutter a little bit.

"Aww, so you weren't lyin'! You do have friends~!" Yoi giggled, hitting the boy softly on the shoulder and the brunette rolled his eyes with a small snarl.

"Haha, so funny. Johnny, flower power. Flower power, Johnny."

"Flower power?" Johnny repeated as he shook your hand and you let out a short giggle which made his stomach flutter all over again.

"Not my real name of course, it's a nickname. My real name is [Y/n] but you can call me whatever ya' like."

"Ohh." Johnny nodded along, noticing how you still hadn't let go of his hand. Yours were warm and felt comfort at touch. "I...uh..I like your pants."

You beamed, letting go and shaking your leg a little. "Really? Dally thinks they look like an art project gone wrong."

"Because they do." Dally muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I think they're far out, you're such a downer Dally! Hah! Downer Dally!" You laughed and Dally had let out a sarcastic chuckle with another eye roll. "Ahah. Almost busted a lung there."

"See? A downer. Johnny-man thought it was funny." You turned back to Johnny, messing with one of the loose patches on your jeans. "I could make ya' a pair- actually they probably wouldn't be your sty-"

"I'd like that!" Johnny piped up before you could shut the idea down and your eyes widened in surprised, you smiled at him. "Really?"

He nodded, smiling growing along with yours. "Groovy! I'll get onto it as fast as I can."

"Groovy?" Johnny repeated, tilting his head a little bit and you nodded. "Groovy, it's kinda like when y'all say tuff. It's just a good thing."

"Oh, groovy." Johnny said and you had giggled, patting his shoulder.

"You make it sound so weird like it's a different language or something. It's kinda cute." Johnny only smiled, trying to ignore the fact that you had called him cute.

Dally looked between the two of you, narrowing his eyes a little bit before a small smirk itched onto the end of his lips.

"Johnny, you wanna tag along with us? We were just about to head and see that new movie that just came out."

"You should, if you don't mind horror movies." You added and Johnny pressed his lips together in a small yet strained smile.

"Naw, I don't mind."

★

"I could have paid for y'all, you know. We didn't have to break in." You sighed and Dally chuckled.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He hummed as they all took their seats, a little bit away from the front.

"What kind of horror movie is it again?" Johnny asked and Dally shrugged his shoulders. He never really came to pay attention to the movies, he came to be a bother to those who were trying to.

"Some sort of slasher. Shouldn't be too frightening if you're scared."

"I'm not scared!" Johnny squeaked and you had giggled, leaning back in the chair.

"It's alright if you are. I wouldn't judge. You can even hold my hand if you want." You offered as the movie had and started. Johnny pursed his lips before he took your hand in his.

"I'm just holding yer' hand in case you get scared." He established and you had nodded, entwining your fingers with his their hands were basically locked together.

He smiled at that as he tried to focus on one thing.

Not looking like a scaredy cat.

But the movie was barley ten minutes in before Johnny had jumped back in his seat from the killer jumping out of nowhere, his scream muffled in the collar of his jean jacket.

He glanced over at you as he felt you squeeze his hand comfortingly. "Sorry.." He mumbled, his sunkissed skin growing warm from embarrassment.

"Don't apologize. You don't have to act all tough for me, Johnny. It's a horror movie for a reason." You reassured with a small smile as you moved closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Next time we can see something a little more relaxing."

"Next time?" He repeated like it was a foreign statement.

You nodded excitedly. "Yeah, next time! Do ya' not wanna see me again or something?"

"No!" Johnny quickly said. "I'd.. I'd love to see a movie with you again."

"Groovy."

[quarterlifekitty]

I like to think about if the boys got a partner who was stubborn about things they're stubborn about, but in the opposite way... I mean Price's S/O dead set on not going down the "big family with a white picket fence" path, Nikolai's S/O being an independent free bird, Soap's S/O being a 100% prude 😭

Price is willfully misinterpreting your wishes on that one. You can pick out the house, love, he’s not fussy! Any kind of yard you like is fine with him. And if you just have two or three kids, that’s fine too 🥰

With Nik I think he actually doesn’t mind if you’re independent to a degree. Like he doesn’t want you to be totally helpless on your own— he’s gone a lot, after all, so he likes to know you can care for yourself. What gets him off is you relinquishing that care to him when he’s around.

Soap has an abysmal sense of boundaries, especially if you’re fucking. To him, “I’m not really interested in that” is just another way of saying “convince me”.

[imababblekat]

•CW: food, reader eating a lot, slightly suggestive•

The guys have never seen a sweet thing like you eat before. It’s Friday night, y’all just got back from deployment, and ofc Johnny suggests going to a bar as a way to cool off from everything. And ofc, the guys can’t wait to get some actual real food in their guts. Naturally they’d say the same for you, only they could have never foreseen just how badly you craved for some real food. The waiter just dropped off your third basket of wings, you’re nearly done with your second, and the guys can’t stop staring at the way you just stuck a particularly meaty wing into your mouth, pulling it out bone fucking clean. Your eyes scour the small round table, and the guys think you’re about to get all shy and excuse yourself, except you just point at their own unfinished meals, with a “ya gonna finish that?”

Price is quickly thinking of every holiday where he can make you the perfect meal to make sure you’re good and wonderfully full.

Simon’s already got a whole wedding menu set up for the two of you, despite neither of you dating.

Kyle is somehow so flabbergasted and so enamored all at the same time.

Johnny has never wanted to be a chicken wing so badly in his life.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Can you write earrhrealmers feel about an s/o that likes giving them head? Like, it’s a hobby at this point 🤣👀

author note: the request is nsfw, but the hcs are suggestive, so no action is described! Spoiler: most of them are more than fine with lol

Johnny Cage: -Does he seem worried to you? You could spend your entire holidays between his legs, and Johnny wouldn't complain. -Do that in the seat of his car or in an empty theater, and Johnny will see stars, planets, and universes, from his mouth a river of compliments for your good work. -But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't return the favour? Get ready, Liu Kang gifted him with those hands, and they aren't there just to be looked at.

Kenshi Takahashi: -With his highlighted senses, every time you go down on him, Kenshi thinks to go a bit crazy. -His tattooed hand running on your head, not setting a rhythm, just touching you. -Honestly? He wouldn't mind if you stayed there forever. -But Kenshi is a nice guy, you know? After you finish, he'll tap his lap, prompting you to sit on it. -It's your turn sugar, and you'll stay there for as long as he wants to.

Raiden: -He isn't that much at ease? Don't misunderstand, Raiden loves to look at your face, at your lips taking him so nicely, but- -He just prefers to be the one on his knees for you, lavishing you in compliments at each whine and twitch your body makes. -Raiden won't make you go at it more than once, he enjoyes it, clearly, if the words that leave his mouth mean something you should feel more than proud of yourself, he just can't wait to get his hands, and mouth, on you. -"Thank you, strawberry. Now it is my turn." -Why strawberry? Because Raiden says you taste as sweet as one on his tongue.

Kung Lao: -Baby, go at it as much as you want. -Lao will look at you, hands behind his head, enjoying the sight like you are his favourite movie. -For sure, the imagine will stay in his head for long, at times becoming an intrusive thought while he is working. -Lao showers you with compliments, getting sweeter and sickening the nearest he gets to his apex. -He'll return the favour, but give him a few minutes. It's hard to go back to Earth when you are in paradise.

Liu Kang: -"It seems you enjoy getting on your knees for your God." He says, lifting your chin up with his index finger, smirk plastered on his face. -Can you tell he is enjoying this? Because he totally does. -One of the few that worry for your jaw, maybe he has seen something in your future? "Thanks, dear one-" He says, brushing away the hair that are stuck on your face "Now it is my turn to thank you."

Geras: -He doesn't feel that much mortal needs, so for sure, he won't ask for that. -But since you seem to enjoy it so much, Geras won't stop you. -But don't be too pushy, Geras is a busy guy, and at times, too much physical touch overwhelms him.

Bi-Han: -You don't have time to act of your own volition that his hand is already grabbing your hair and pushing you on your knees. -It would be terribly rude if Bi-Han didn't do that exactly when you want to go down on him. Does he have a sensor? Do you have a particular look in your eyes? -You'll never know because Bi-Han will rather die than admit that he knows you and your body reaction like the back of his hands. -He will be harsh and fast. If you want to suck him so much, you have to be ready to be used as he prefers. -It won't last long, tho. Bi-Han prefers to be the one on his knees for you.

Kuai Liang: -He is particularly busy with work…doesn't mean he always has a moment for you. -He thanks you the entire time. You don't know how relaxing it is receiving this for Liang. -Like, if you want rough, he can do it, switching pretty fast. -At the end, he'll thank you anyway. -"My little spark, you are amazing. Let me return the favour now."

Tomas Vrbada: -Really? You want to do that to him. Blood is pumping dangerously fast. -It's one of the few moments Tomas has control, so he will be pretty rough. -Tap if it is getting too much! He still isn't used to this and can't control his strength well. -The last thing Tomas wants is to hurt you. He'd feel so bad afterwards that he would avoid you as much as he can. -So sit him down and tell him you'll learn and improve together; a sigh of relief will leave his mouth. -"So…wanna try now?"

[goodday-goodmorn]

Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

[littlefallenrebel]

I know Johnny obviously isn't a short man (personally I headcanon him being 5'10-5'11)

But I also can't stop thinking about a short guy/tall girl dynamic with him...

Just his rowdy self with shy little you, who's almost like a head taller than him and he's just going heart eyes over you :(

[heartsoremania]

would anyone actually want to read some nastyyy ftm!Johnny smut bc I've got something filthy cooking in my head rn

does this count as a sneak-peek or

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry’s bachelor party be like?

---

― Twig undoubtedly is the type not to want to have a bachelor's party in the classical sense, because the only person he wants to spend time with weeks before his wedding, is the person he's marrying. Why? Because he's loyal, devoted, entirely besotted with boyish puppy love galore and wants every waking moment spent glued to his person's side, so really, nothing debauched is bound to happen. Not of his own volition anyway. No strippers jumping out of a cake, for example, even though he can more than afford an extravagant party, which, chances are, he'd be want to attend with beloved, even though, all things considered, that's not exactly how a bachelor party functions, but hey, try telling that to someone who is in love as much as a young Terry is capable of falling in love. Twig is very likely to go out with John, as the only male friend he holds dear at the time, or really, if we're honest, in general after the war. Have a drink. Toast for the good times. Talk. Reminisce. Perhaps make up for the lack of any festivity in the traditional sense by treating John to something grand as a way for them to kickstart and celebrate a new chapter in Twig's life together, doing so by spending money on John, even though Twig, generous as he is, should be the one receiving wedding presents instead of giving them --- something he absolutely insists shouldn't be the case because he's so happy he's getting hitched, he wants to share his joy in any way he possibly can. Afterwards, returning home to beloved with or without John absolutely sober, clean, very enthusiastic and eager to be married already, being entirely content with having no bachelor party at all, seeing it as a needless detour to what he wants --- what he really wants. And that is, as idealistic as it sounds, to be with his person.

― Terry Silver in the 80's is typically seen as something of a lascivious, unhinged hedonist, and while that isn't untrue whatsoever (and Terry himself prides himself on such titles to the highest possible extent), the same thing that rang true for him while he was Twig rings true now, except, somewhat flipped on its head; strippers do happen this time around. Sex workers, starlets, celebrities and escorts. The high end jet set of LA. Alcohol. Blackjack. Cigars. Cocktail gowns. Catered food. Personalized invitation cards. Limousines parked in front of the manor in the dozens. Waiters. Statues made out of ice. A privately commissioned band playing live music all night long. And a jacuzzi filled with champagne, for all we know. Terry Silver arranges all of this and much, much more --- but very much for the enjoyment of others. For his numerous important guests. Not for himself. It's a flaunting of money, power, prestige, unhinged fun that feeds into the whole playboy moniker he for sure garnered all while he doesn't really participate himself, even though...really...everyone would expect someone like him to, and for good reason. His bachelor party is the talk of the city. The talk of The Valley --- the whole State, in fact --- as the most extravagant, expensive affair of the decade where everyone who is anyone attends, but the man of the hour himself is scarcely seen without his beloved on the actual event; a twist few people expected. Truth is, Terry Silver has eyes only for his beloved and nobody else and chances are, somewhere in the middle of the party, he is likely to pretty openly disappear with them and be heard very ardently and vocally practicing for the honeymoon somewhere upstairs, in his mansion. He celebrates his bachelor party, in big style, in his own way.

― Old man Terry outright has no bachelor party to speak of either, not even formally, as a way to show off, no --- and this is exclusively by his own explicit choice and no force can dissuade him otherwise because he's a grown, mature man and feels he has no need to 'live it up' in the last few days of his singlehood and unmarried status, because he might be convinced he already lived large and lived fast all his youth. He has no desire to compensate for anything he hasn't already done by the tenfolds in decades prior. He views a bachelor party total waste of time at his age; in a chapter of his life when a man has nothing to spare and should, in his very own opinion, cherish every moment like the most precious luxury on the planet, he's undoubtedly already married and long since back from his honeymoon (with a pregnant partner, if at all possible, clearly working overtime) by the time anyone can expect any sort of stag from him or even have a single second to inquire about it (and even if someone does, he for sure charmingly directs the attention back to his newly-minted spouse instead, all while boiling below his nonchalant facade that someone even dared question him and his decisions). It is that easy for Terry. Time management's of the essence and he spends every moment with his beloved like he fears it could be his very last. Thing is, when Terry's committed, he's committed to the bone and when he's not committed, he's not. At any age, if he already reached the level of devotion where he's willing to marry someone and tie them to himself in every way one can be tied to another, he doesn't need anything or anyone else but them, growing absolutely singleminded in his objectives and his desires. No substitutes. No distractions. He knows what he wants and how he wants it.

[ambrozjas]

the gang with a reader that is a soc? (separately)

the gang x soc!reader ꨄ︎

the outsiders x soc!reader (separately)

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

this took a while, so sorry for the long wait !! 💘 thank you for the request darlin i really loved writing this !!

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

mentions of alcohol in two-bit’s, dally being a pest, reader is described as gorgeous and beautiful and “purdy” but i don’t think a gender is specified?

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“ya’know, y’didn’t have to do all this.” DARRY said, his eyes still raking across all the store bags filled with new clothes for sodapop, ponyboy, and darry.

“don’t mention it, dare. i’ve got plenty of money to spend for you boys.” you said, walking over to darry and placing a delicate hand on his arm, looking over the presents.

“sure, but—“

“can’t you just wait ‘til you see the look on soda and pony’s faces? they’re gonna be so happy, just think about it.” you try your best attempt at comforting darry, assuring him that you could afford it.

he merely sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his eyes. you wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head on him, rubbing his left arm soothingly.

“bought us some groceries for dinner t’night, too. don’t worry about it, darry. i got you.” you mumbled in his ear as his icy blue eyes opened and gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“whatever you say, darlin’.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

SODAPOP’s mouth parted a bit as his eyes widened, watching a sleek white 1966 corvette stingray pull up to the dx.

you came out of the car, sunglasses on top of your head with your hair pushed back a bit. then, your friend came out of the car too. johanna winchester, boy was she a bitch. before soda had dropped out, she was pretty much the hottest piece of gossip there, always cheating on her boyfriend and hosting parties at her dad’s two-story house on the west side.

but, you were an unfamiliar face. he had never seen you before, because if he had, he would’ve remembered someone as beautiful as you.

steve had obviously noticed sodapop ogling at something, and following his gaze he saw you. he whistled, “woo! you see those dames, soda?”

soda looked steve up and down, his face and hands covered in black oil. “‘course i see ‘em, now get outta here ‘fore they see you.”

“don’t hate me ‘cause i’m good-lookin’.” steve shrugged, taking one more glance at you and your friend opening the door before walking back to the garage.

“hey! you think we could get five on pump two, please?” ugh, even your voice made soda swoon. you handed him a few neatly stacked dollar bills and looked behind you at your friend who was side eyeing every corner of this place.

“‘course!” sodapop replied, clicking a few buttons to open up pump two but couldn’t help but overhear johanna whispering to you, “couldn’t we have picked another gas station?” obviously because it was run by “greasers.”

you whispered back to her, although soda couldnt hear you. instead, he handed you your change to which johanna rudely grabbed the coins and yanked you away, pulling you out of the dx. you threw one last glance behind you to soda, before you finally get pulled out of the gas station.

for now, he would just have to dream and hope until he sees you again.

boy, he wished he stayed in school a bit longer just so he could’ve see you more often.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

PONYBOY watched as you rested your chin on your palm, looking out the window as the sunlight illuminated your face with a golden hue.

you were in english class, unbothered by the teacher’s ramblings on shakespeare, anything outside was more interesting than this class.

ponyboy’s eyes were glued to you, watching how you wrote down simple phrases in your notebook whenever you’d tune back into the the teacher’s monologuing.

he had just watched your eyes fall across the rest of the room, the other students either borderline falling asleep or not paying attention at all, before your eyes fell on him, and in that very moment he heard a stern, “mr. curtis!” from the teacher.

ponyboy felt his cheeks heat up as the class’ eyes fell on him, he glanced over to you only to find your eyes still on him as well.

“mr. curtis, what is the answer?” he asked. pony stammered a bit, trying to read the board as quickly as possible until he heard nails clacking on the desk across the room. it was you, hand covering your mouth mouthing the letter ‘b’.

“oh—! uh, ‘b’ sir.” ponyboy said, a wave of what he thought to be sweat washing over him as he sighed in relief when the teacher nodded his head.

he looked back over to you, giving him a thumbs up as your pink lips curled in a small smile.

he smiled to himself, mouthing a quick ‘thanks’ to you before looking away and writing down whatever was on the board.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“you ain’t like other greasers, huh?” you asked JOHNNY. “what’s your deal?”

johnny stayed quiet, eyes as wide as saucers as you leaned over him, hands planted firmly on his desk.

“you mute?” you asked, a bit coldly as johnny flinched at your tone. you tilted your head as you tried to understand him. he wasn’t like that hood dallas winston, but he wasn’t like any other greaser you’d seen before.

johnny swallowed. “no..” he said. you were utterly beautiful. albeit, a social, you were quite the jaw dropper.

“then could you.. maybe help me with this?” your demeanor changed, probably because you had realize johnny was no threat despite being a greaser. a sheepish smile grew on your face as you flashed the worksheet in front of him.

“thought w’could negotiate. i help you with the readin’, you help me with the math?” you said, tilting your head once again as you pointed at the filled worksheet below johnny, but he wasn’t paying any attention to where your finger pointed, his eyes remained on you.

his eyes flickered across your face, taking in every blemish and ridge of it. he was mesmerized by you. but he was conflicted. he could never have a chance with a soc, so why dream?

but then again, johnny thought, something is better than nothing.

“‘course.” he said.

for now, he can only dream until he could muster up the courage to speak more than one word to you.

one day, johnny thought.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“what’s the matter wit’you, dollface?”

“don’t call me that, hood.”

DALLY huffed, a tiny bit of smoke seeping through his lips from where a small opening lie where his cigarette was.

he had been following you around all day, bothering you on your way home. you held your books protectively against your chest, thinking for some reason he’d try and pull a move on you. he kept circling around you, like a vulture. “c’mon, jus’ one date.” he told you, hand coming to rest upon your shoulder before you shook him off.

you scoffed, “maybe in your dreams.”

dally tapped his foot impatiently as you stood in front of your house, a pristine exterior with some marble pillars. he knew it was a risk being on this side of town, but then again dallas winston was never much known for being safe.

“whatever, man.” he murmured. you winced as he threw his cigarette on your freshly cut lawn, and made his way back down the street.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him give up. you knew dallas winston as a greaser, a criminal, an asshole, and maybe a bit handsome although you’d never admit it. but you never once took him for a quitter.

you watched as he cockily walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he was on the lookout for any socs.

for some reason, you thought he’d try harder. did you want him to try harder?

no, you couldn’t’ve. dally wasn’t even worth your time. so why did he give up so easy? why did you wish he would’ve turned around, and kept bothering you?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“c’mon pretty thing!” TWO-BIT shouted out at you. he had been throwing pebbles at your bedroom window, ultimately scratching the glass with the heavier ones but the thought was nice.

your bedroom was on the second floor, facing the backyard. so watching two at the ground, yelling for you at night while your parents were asleep? not a good look for you.

you held a finger to your lips as your eyes widened, quietly telling two-bit to shut up.

you don’t think he got the message though, considering his grin never left his face, and the bottle didn’t leave his hand either. he flashed you your favorite candy bar, and waved a hand at you telling you to come down.

you looked back behind you, and back at two, giving him a thumbs up.

you put on a jacket over your nightgown, putting your sneakers on and tip-toeing down the stairs and out the back door.

you saw two-bit, taking chugs of his drink before his eyes fell on you. “hey baby! how you doin’?”

“fine, before you woke me up.” you said to which he gave you a small hug, immediately warming you up with his body heat. he tapped the candy bar against your back, which made you pull away to grab it.

“snagged you a sweet.”

“snagged or stole?”

“same thing, ain’t it? now c’mon darlin’, we got a whole night ahead of us!” two-bit said, pulling you away and helping you jump over your fence, like a gentleman.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“hey, y’mind passin’ me that wrench over there?” STEVE said, the creeper making a squeak as he rolled out from under the car and pointed you towards the clear drawers containing all the parts.

your face screwed up as you thought about all the dirt and oil that must be on those tools. you made a thinking noise, looking back at the drawers before steve tsk’ed.

“what? too worried about your purdy sleeves getting dirty from some oil?” he scoffed.

“‘m glad you think they’re pretty, at least.”

“just—! get me the wrench?” he said, brown eyes flickering up at you in your seat. “what’s the magic word?” you said, a grin resting on your face.

“i might as well go get it m’self.” steve started to roll the creeper further out so he could just get the tools on his own before you stopped him with a series of ‘no’.

“okay! just—,” you cringed at the plethora of rusty tools steve had im the drawers, and quickly dug through them. steve laughed as you shuffled through all of them, before whistling.

you turned your head towards him, only to find him waving the wrench at you with a shit-eating grin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ skdeojejwsozskw i hope you guys like this, it took me like a day to concoct 😭😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[lologoinsolo]

Bet It All

After nearly dying in that tunnel. Johnny decides to turn his life around and bet it all on a bar. 4 years later the bar has become a success but Johnny feels like he’s missing something. Just as he’s trying to figure out what it is he’s missing. A group of party goers come in. What originally was just going to be a regular night at his bar leads to something more.

Or… Johnny becomes whipped for an older woman that’s in a loveless marriage. What will become of them when Johnny can’t stay away? What will happen when she doesn’t want him to stay away? Is she what Johnny’s been looking for? Will she try once more at a hand in love?

Johnny X FemReader, no name but so many endearments. No physical description of Reader

This story is considered 18+ so MDNI. Each chapter will have tags when it calls for it.

Chapter 1 A Bar To Bet On

A regular night in the making but who knows? Maybe something good will happen tonight.

Chapter 2 Reasonings and Wine

“Okay,” Johnny raises his hands in mock surrender. “Frankie might’ve made mentioned that she wanted to see the wine selections that we had.”

Chapter 3 Try For Me

This chapter is still in the works! Hopefully there will be a little description here soon.

Chapter 4 ???

Chapter 5 ???

[quarterlifekitty]

So I’ve been staying at a hotel lately and running out of clean clothes, so I’ve been sleeping in the hotel robe, which inevitably doesn’t stay closed and exposes my tits at some point in the night.

Anyways. Imagine sharing a room with Soap.

The whole time he’s been playing up how normal it is. Sleeping in the same room. Leaving the bathroom door open. Seeing each other’s weird habits. Cause you’re best mates, so it’s not weird. You’re one of the guys, a member of the team— you’ve been together through thick and thin. You’ve slept in closer quarters than this on deployment.

Until you’re sleeping and your robe opens up, and suddenly he’s reminded that you’re his best mate with the soft, inviting body of a girl.

And he’s just a man, bonnie. Cannae be blamed for what happens next, y’ken?

[cinaminrolll]

guys i legit have 35 bug bites right now, johnny would be having a field day 💀

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x neighbour!reader: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! (Or in your case, the way to four men’s heart is through their stomach))

It started with cookies.

You’d been in the middle of baking a double batch- oatmeal chocolate chip, your personal favorite- and realized halfway through scooping them onto the tray that you’d made far too many for one person. It wasn’t unusual. Baking was how you coped with stress, and ever since you’d moved into this apartment building, stress had been in no short supply.

The guy in 4A had blared music all night. Your hot water barely lasted five minutes. And your smoke detector had developed a habit of chirping at odd hours.

But there was one bright spot- your neighbors in 4C.

You’d seen them coming and going. Tall, broad, and always carrying duffel bags that looked far too heavy to be legal. They kept odd hours, too, but never caused trouble. One of them- Johnny, you’d learned later- had even held the door open for you when your arms were full of groceries.

Which was why you’d stood outside their door that evening, balancing a plate of cookies and feeling like an idiot as you knocked.

Not-Johnny had answered first, blinking down at you in surprise, though his smile was warm and he was beautiful. You couldn’t blame him; you had barely spoken to them more than a few short words.

“Uh… hi?”

“Hi.” You forced a smile. “I’m your neighbor from 4B. I, uh… made too many cookies?”

His eyes dropped to the plate immediately, and you swore you saw something primal flicker behind them. Still, you worried.

“I mean, if you don’t want-”

“No! No, we want. Come in- Johnny! Get over here!”

And that was how it started.

The second time had been lasagna.

You’d just finished assembling it when you realized- again- that you’d made too much. So, after psyching yourself up for ten minutes, you’d knocked on their door for the second time in as many weeks.

Price, who had introduced himself along wuth Simon the day you dropped off the cookies, had answered that time, his expression guarded until he saw the foil-covered pan in your hands.

“You’re joking,” he’d said, but when you started to retreat, he’d stopped you with a firm, but gentle hand on your back. He had such a nice, big hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, lovie. Get in here.”

That night, you’d sat at their table, sharing stories and laughter while they cleaned the dish down to the last crumb.

After that, it became routine.

You started “testing recipes,” and they became your eager guinea pigs.

And they never seemed to mind.

And now…

The smell hit first- roasted garlic, browned butter, and something rich simmering low and slow. It snuck out from the slightly cracked kitchen window and spilled into the shared hallway of the apartment building. For men used to MREs and takeout, it was practically siren song.

Gaz was the first to notice, lingering just outside the door labeled 4B- your door- with an almost predatory focus. He wasn’t proud of it, but his stomach growled so loud that Soap- rounding the corner with a gym bag slung over his shoulder- laughed outright.

“You stalking the neighbor again?”

“Shut up. You smell that?”

Soap inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut for a beat before snapping open.

“Jesus wept- what is that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m this close to knocking.” Kyle held up his fingers, barely an inch apart.

“She already fed us last week, mate. Dinna push it.”

“But what if she’s testing another recipe?”

Gaz wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of showing up at their door with dishes too good to refuse.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

After the cookies and the lasagna, it wasn’t long before other dishes followed: casseroles, soups, pies, and even homemade bread. And the worst part? You bow always prefaced it by saying you needed an opinion- like they were doing you the favor.

It wasn’t until Price called you a “bloody saint” over a pan of enchiladas that Ghost finally put it together.

“You’re using us as taste testers,” he’d said flatly.

You’d grinned- too cute and too smug for your own good. “Is that a problem?”

Not a single one of them had said no, just as stated before.

Which led them here, hovering outside your door and pretending they weren’t waiting for another offering.

“… Fine.” Soap muttered, raising his hand to knock.

But the door swung open before he could, and there you were- apron on, hair pulled back, and flour dusted across your cheek.

“Hi!” You chirped, eyes bright. “Perfect timing!”

Gaz’s grin was pure relief. “Tell me you need opinions. Please, love.”

You laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “I always need opinions. Come in!”

Inside, the kitchen was chaos. Cutting boards and mixing bowls were scattered across the counters. A Dutch oven bubbled on the stove, releasing clouds of savory steam. Plates of food- half-assembled sandwiches, stuffed peppers, and what looked like chocolate tarts- sat waiting.

“I… might’ve gone overboard.” You admitted, and if you hadn’t spent all day in the kitchen, your cheeks would’ve gone warmer.

Soap whistled low, eyes raking over every dish. “Not complainin’.”

Price arrived just then, texted by Kyle, trailed closely by Simon, who took one look at the spread and froze. His eyes swept from the roasted chicken resting under a blanket of fresh herbs to the still-warm biscuits stacked beside a bowl of honey butter.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked, smile amused, but you just waved him off.

“Practicing.”

Gaz was already halfway to the table, trying to decide what to start with, but Simon lingered, watching you carefully. He had his balaclava on, though you haven’t yet dared to ask why he wears it.

“Practicing for what, exactly?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your apron. “There’s this… thing next week. A community bake-off. And I thought it might be fun to enter.”

Soap arched a brow. “You’re entering this in a bake-off?”

“Well, not all of it. I’m still deciding which dishes to use.”

“You’re winning.” Kyle said immediately, filling his plate.

“Definitely.” Johnny added, already reaching for a sandwich.

Simon, still lingering, crossed his arms and stared down at you. His height will never, ever not make your breath hitch. “You’re testing all of this on us?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, pouting just a little. “You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”

His gaze darkened- not in anger, but something softer, heavier. It made your stomach flip.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t mind.”

You swallowed and turned quickly to the oven to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The next hour passed in a blur of taste testing, arguments over which dish was best, and repeated assurances that you were going to “blow the competition out of the water.” But beneath the laughter and teasing, you failed to catch the way they looked at you- how Price lingered by the stove just to steal extra bites, or how Johnny kept offering to help, hovering close enough that you brushed elbows more than once.

And Simon? He was the worst of all. He didn’t say much, but his eyes tracked your every move, following the way your hands worked the dough or wiped flour off the counter. He was the last to leave, hanging back as the others helped clear plates.

“You’re serious about this bake-off?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Thought it might be fun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“… What?”

He gestured at the now-empty plates. “To prove anything, I mean. You’re already…” He trailed off for a few seconds, and though you were left blinking at him, you didn’t rush him. “Good enough.” he murmured at last.

The compliment hit harder than you expected, and for once, you didn’t have a clever response.

“Thank you, Simon. That… means a lot to me.” you said softly.

And just like that, the others reappeared, breaking the moment. Johnny patted Simon’s shoulder with a knowing smirk, and Kyle slung an arm around your shoulders, while Price merely watched. Your kitchen was now spotless, cleaned by them.

“When’s the next test run?” Gaz asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, let us know. We’re free anytime.”

“Yeah,” Soap added. “Anytime.”

You laughed but this time, you didn’t miss the way Price was looking at you- thoughtful, like he’d already made up his mind about something.

The door clicked shut behind them after that, leaving your apartment quieter but no less warm. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you surveyed the spotless kitchen. They’d made quick work of the mess, trading jokes and lighthearted jabs as they wiped down counters and stacked dishes in quite the uniform style.

You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve neighbors like them, but you weren’t about to question it.

You caught yourself humming as you tucked away the last plate, the sound of their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. It was easy with them- comfortable in a way that felt rare and almost too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Because what you didn’t know- what you would probably never know, such a sweet and trusting thing- was that your apartment had been wired within days of your first visit to their door.

To them, it had started with a conversation.

“She’s alone,” Price had said after the second time you’d brought them food, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative frown. “No sign of anyone else coming or going.”

“Security’s shite.” Gaz had added, gesturing vaguely toward the shared hallway where your lock barely functioned half the time.

Soap had shrugged, easygoing as ever, but his eyes had been sharp. “Better us keep an eye on her than let some arsehole get the chance.”

And that was that.

Price had ordered the equipment, Ghost had handled the installation, and none of them had lost sleep over it. Not when it meant keeping you safe.

It wasn’t just the cameras, either.

Simon had reinforced your locks under the guise of “fixing” them after you mentioned a struggle with your key. Johnny had talked you into letting him check your windows “just to be sure they latched properly.” Gaz had set up an app on your phone to “monitor deliveries,” though it also let them track your location if needed.

And Price? He always lingered at the door just long enough to ask if you needed anything else- subtle, but enough to make sure you knew they were there.

You never questioned it. Never noticed the way they moved like a unit around you, anticipating problems before they could arise. Never caught the glances they exchanged when you mentioned a repairman or the way Simon hovered near the window any time a car idled too long outside.

You just kept feeding them, trusting them in ways that only made their resolve deepen.

Price was the worst.

He’d leaned against the counter tonight, watching you laugh at Johnny’s jokes and swat at Kyle when he tried to sneak extra bites, and the thought had hit him harder than he expected, while Simon watched on in amusement and was the only to successfully swipe a few more bites.

They could’ve had this already.

If life had gone differently- if timing had been better- you could’ve been his. Theirs. Someone to come home to instead of just someone they visited between deployments.

He hadn’t said anything, of course. None of them had.

But as they left, he’d lingered in the doorway, letting his hand rest lightly against the frame.

“Don’t let ‘em eat it all before the bake-off,” he’d teased, lips curling into a smile. “They’ll start begging if you do.”

You’d laughed, and God, it was dangerous how much he liked the sound.

“I’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

His smile softened. “Good girl.”

You didn’t notice the way Simon shot him a sharp look at that- or the way Johnny and Kyle exchanged knowing grins.

And later, when Price sat down in front of the monitors to check the feeds, he didn’t let himself feel guilty.

Because you were safe.

And as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered.

[lemonmaid]

Sorry, I've been hyperficated for a minute.

Poly 141 x Baker! Reader

Small town AU

Butcher Simon who owns a meat store in the same building as your bakery store. (Literally a door over).

Butcher Simon who slowly starts to fall smitten over you whenever you come by and ask help pulling freight or those 50 pound flour bags.

Butcher Simon who comes to you with the idea of collaborating making lunch and dinner sandwiches, using your bread and his meats.

Cashier Johnny who constantly flirts with you whoever you pop in the morning.

Cashier Johnny who argues when Simon says he only hired him for his looks.

Cashier Johnny who gives you his employee discount, just don't tell Simon about there being an employee discount.

Cashier Johnny who plays the radio extra loud for Simon to hear the football game while he is in the cooler.

Farmer John who sells his meats to Simon.

Farmer John who also sells his eggs, dairy and other produce to you.

Farmer John who started growing squash, peppers and berries for your bakery and gets to try new items with his ingredients.

Farmer John who has a really bad sweet tooth and shyly buys the last lemon bar every morning.

Sheriff Kyle who comes every morning for your danishes

Sheriff Kyle who comes in every day before closing to buy a dinner sandwich

Sheriff Kyle who gives you his own personal phone number "just in case".

Sheriff Kyle who can be heard arguing with Johnny about meat prices every couple of months.

Sheriff Kyle who can be seen always on John's farm.

Small Town 141! Would be so protective over you.

Small Town 141! Always inviting you to the pub after work, even when they know you'll say no.

Small Town 141! Who always invites you to go hunting or hiking with them.

Small Town 141! Where they are always taking it upon themselves to fix something around your store. Glass needs repainting? Johnny is on it. Lights are out on the sign? Simon has replacements. Door doesn't lock? Kyle knows a guy who owes him a favor. Car broke? John can fix it.

Small Town 141! Who desperately want your affection.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni 18+ soap x fem!reader pregnancy kink, lactation kink, dubcon-ish

Johnny takes good care of you when you get knocked up with his baby, to be sure, but he's not a saint

He'll let you kick your feet into his lap and rub the stiffness away, yeah, if he gets to lay you out after and press his nose to the gusset of your panties and inhale as long as he wants, hand wrapped firmly around his cock

Yeah, he'll come up behind you and take the weight of your swollen belly off of your back, hold you there while you decompress for the first time in weeks... if you take your top down later and let him have a little taste of the milk that's come early

Honey, of course I'll get your lotion from the top shelf for ye, just go ahead and lay yerself down on the bed for me. Mhm, tuck a pillow under that belly. Hands and knees, lamb. That's right, good girl.

He's been putting things in hard to reach places so you have to ask him for help, too, not that you know - you're suffering from a case of pregnancy brain, foggy and tired

Can't let the mother of his child suffer without help, of course. But would it hurt to just come take a seat in his lap, let him see how sensitive you've gotten? How much more wet you get now? How sore and weepy you are?