#tf au x men

[dannymultipersonaje]

Mutant Megop

I need to sleep for an exam but before

necesito dormir para un examen pero antes

(google translator is doing the job today)

(google traductor está haciendo el trabajo hoy)

Orion Pax (Optimus Prime) is a human mutant with the empathic power (range... omega?) with cobditional enhancement (Matrix) of resistance and Megatron is a mutant with rapid regeneration and a minor secondary power of sensing telekinetic fields.

Orion Pax (Optimus Prime) es un mutante humano con el poder empático (rango... omega?) con mejoramiento cobdicional (Matrix) de resistencia y Megatron es un mutante con regeneración rápida y un poder secundaria menor de sentir campos telequineticos.

In a nutshell Megs is Magneto and OP is Professor X from Frist Class (at least that's how I think of them in Prime)

en pocas palabras Megs es Magneto y OP es Profesor X de Frist Class (al menos pienso así de ellos en Prime)

think about the possibilities for its Animated versions, someone should write a fanfiction with this premise

piensa en las posibilidades para sus versiones Animated, alguien debería escribir un fanfiction con esta premisa

[teletubbyinlipstick]

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

[meanyart]

"Do we have a deal?"

[priceoftheduchess]

eek! i’m sorry this is smut (*-*)

cw: pegging AGHH

(1/2; john & simon)

John Price:

“John?” You ask innocently over some dinner, sitting on the couch with your husband as he pores over some bank statements. He hums curiously, his glasses perched on his nose.

“Have you ever been fucked?” You ask, and he slowly turns his head to meet your gaze.

“Me?” He asks, taking his glasses off completely. He’s a bit taken aback. You nod and he blinks slowly. “Can’t say I have.”

“What if we changed that?” You ask, and he’s even more intense in his gaze than he was before.

“What’re you sayin’, dove?” He asks, tucking the documents away into a folder and setting them on the table.

“C’mon, John,” you set your dinner aside. You stand, gently gesturing for him to get up by tugging at his shirt. He obeys and follows you to the bedroom. You feel it: he’s tense, he’s hesitant, but he’s curious. The air in the bedroom is intimate as you instruct John to lay down slowly and undress himself. He is naked as the day he was born, per your instructions, as he lays down on his back.

“I might be too old for this. New tricks ‘n’ all.” He remarks from the bed as you stand in the closet, pulling the silicone toy to sit correctly on your pubic mound. It’s average size, and not too intimidating. But John sees you as you step out of the closet and he blanches. This is what you meant?!

“Never too old,” you smile as you climb into bed, nude yourself. You reach into the nightstand and pull out some lubricant — ignoring John’s soft onslaught of questions — and setting it aside for in a moment.

You lean over his body slow, feeling pride in being about to dominate such a large, powerful man. Even if only for tonight. Your hands traced his body slow, kissing at the expanse of his hairy chest and down to his hips, biting softly at his love handles. He’s already so blissed out, and you’ve barely even touched him. He’s half-chub now, and you feel that he’s ready. So you reach a free hand down to his hole, and open him up softly — adding fingers as you go.

John is torn. Between giving into this newfound pleasure and taking back his dignity. But he gives up on his pride quickly when the cold lube hits his hole. He shivers softly and looks up at you, pupils blown and lips parted softly. His whole body is so warm, he’s on fire. He’s looser now, and you slowly tease him with the silicone. He moans, already trying to spread himself more for you.

This is strange. John laid out beneath you, silently begging for more of what you’re teasing him with. You slip the tip in, and he’s already chasing the feeling, bucking his hips to try and bury you in. You shake your head, pressing a hand over his belly-button — holding him down.

“I gotta go slow, baby.” You explain, gently moving your hips back and forth, giving John time to loosen and open up.

After a moment of adjusting, you sink to the hilt and John is gone. He’s sure he’s died and gone to Heaven. He’s the hardest he’s probably ever been, and it’s leaking obscenely against his stomach and he’s stroking himself as you bully into his hole over and over again.

His little noises are new, but God, are they nice. “More,” he’d moan, bucking his hips for more friction. “Fuck,” he’d cry out. His back arched and his toes curled as you gave it to him like he gave it to you.

He’s panting, heaving and sweating and his face is so flushed and he has never looked hotter. He eventually comes with his spend landing all over his chest and his stomach, and he’s so blissed out as you go to rinse off the silicone.

You come back to bed after tucking the toy away, snuggling up to his side. “Wasn’t that nice?” You muse, and he nods. His voice is gruff as he responds.

“Very nice, luv. Fuck. We gotta do ‘at more often.” You giggle, going to respond before you hear a soft snoring. Can you blame him, dove? You wore him out six ways to Sunday.

Simon Riley:

He’s cleaning out you guy’s big, shared closet when he finds the box that the strap came in. He opens it, to find it still wrapped and unused — as if you’re saving it for something, no, someone — and dots start connecting in his head. He knows three things are true.

1) This thing is brand new, ordered behind his back.

2) He is the only man in your life. And has been for a while.

3) Your two-year anniversary is next week.

Jesus, fuck.

Is this the surprise you’ve been planning? The thing you’ve been dancing around? The thing he’s been teased about? He doesn’t know if he should toss this and hide it away or succumb to his curiosity.

I mean, you’ve never led him astray before.

Maybe this could be nice?

You come home from work, sauntering to the bedroom where he lays — watching some trashy reality show. (He will always deny that he was watching it.) You slip into some pyjamas and toss your work clothes in a corner before sliding into bed with him. He sighs, his hand finding purchase on your ass as he wraps his arm around you.

“I found something today.” He says, a hint of a smile in his voice. You already know by his tone.

“I bet you did.”

“So, you wan’a try ‘at, aye?” He asks and you nod. You’re a bit caught off guard by the way he’s already standing and undressing himself.

“You want to try it now?” You ask, sitting up.

“Want to give my bird whatever she wants.” He answers, and it feels so Simon. Like, he’s clinging to you like a life raft and if his last breath was spent underneath you — he’d be content. You nod, and retreat to grab the new toy from the closet. The prep is relatively easy, slipping it on over your thighs and securing it.

Simon is on the edge of the bed, half-chub, when you come back.

“On your hands and knees,” you order, trying to get used to the newfound authority you have. He looks at you — amused and surprised — before obeying.

You slot yourself behind him with a bottle of lube, prepping him with a few fingers. He’s grunting even at this.

He’s finally loose enough, so you align the toy and slip it in, burying ‘yourself’ to the hilt. He lets out a groan, and is already breathing heavily as he shoves his face into the pillow to muffle himself. You tug his hair back, tutting and freeing his face.

“Need to hear you, pretty boy,” you say, finding a steady rhythm and Simon is convinced he’s died and gone to Heaven, jerking himself dryly as you work behind him. He’s done in ten minutes flat, his face red and his body heaving.

“I have never,” he starts, shocked. “Never came that fast.” You giggle, tucking the toy back into the closet and shrugging.

“You always need to trust me.”

“Mm, you can lead me blind in the dark, luv, and I’d fookin’ trust you.” You giggle and Simon is asleep, his face buried in your tits, in barely any time at all.

[olga-bomzhikha]

Chase: Awww, Heatwave, you wanna be closer to our icon? As humans say, "Cute." Heatwave: Yeah…kinda

Chase: Chief, I understand correctly that when a person says they're mad at you, they're irritated, right? Charlie: Yeah Chase: Does that mean that showing anger involves things like hugging, kissing, and other actions that people are embarrassed to talk about? Charlie: What? Of course not. Chase: But yesterday Heatwave- Charlie: How about we stop talking for a little while.

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

Idea from this post

What if Cody was Sabertooth's bio kid? for the TFRB x X Men crossover. Cody is a literal sweetheart compared to Viktor, it was unbelievable for Wolverine and everyone else to believe that Cody was Sabetooth's offspring! But when the kid activated his X-gen it was hard to not see the resambles...

Still, there are differences! Cody's features resemble more of a Smilodon fatalis, a sub-family of the Sabertooth's felines. A species known to be less strong on bite, but much faster and agile. His eyes are also different as Viktor's eyes are completely white but Cody's are fully red. Something that combined with his new fangs and big claws gives the boy a menacing look... that being the only thing the boy hates from his mutation.

Logan just hopes that Sabertooth (and other monsters similar to the guy) never finds out about Cody and his family... However, there's a question still on the air, who is Cody's mom, the woman who survived Viktor's rage?

Most of Wolverine´s kids don't trust Cody because of what happened with Graydon Creed and the Sabertooth war. Cody still proves to be just a little kid with a heart of gold!

Boulder is the first one to pet Cody without questions. Heatwave will always say that even with big fangs, Cody will always need protection. Blades searches about the Sabertooth feline species and about the X-gen for when Cody needs medical care. Chase makes his own investigation about the Creed family to finally put a stop to Viktor (but that's easier say than done)

[mgarmagedon]

I wanna see Wheeljack and U.Magnus kiss

Hm... Yes, yes, indeed very taste old men toxic yaoi 🤭

That is literally them:

[pastelpousay]

Just a sketch because I’m lazy and burnt out 💀😭

[wishchip106]

my brain locked onto my ready player one cherik au and now it wont let go

i started a draft for the first chapter im actually writing it help

HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS

literally sweating what is this

how do people world build i’ve always struggled with that yet i really want to describe the visuals from my brain

they only way i’m gonna learn is if i do it damn 😭

i already got a main idea of how i want this to go JUST HOW DO I WRITE IT

i haven’t done creative writing in a while i gotta oil the hinges or something

at least this is just a draft i can keep going back and change it 🤯

i wanna share more thoughts about it but i feel like that would just spoil it in some way

also i aint gatekeeping this idea i wanna see what other people think of it

and then steal their ideas 😎 (jk)

[xxundeadfanboixx]

I am having too many ideas, and not NEARLY enough motivation to write anything for any of them.

Anyways- X-Men AU!COD. Ghost is Wolverine, Soap is Nightcrawler (could also be Beast), Gaz is Mystic (or maybe Domino -thinking of the time he fell out of the heli-). I don't know about Price cause I really don't want to say he's Professor X cause it just doesn't fit. Maybe he could be Cyclops or something?

[m00nz-writes]

lowkey wanna make an x-men / child's play crossover simply so olivia and jake can be found family because god fucking forbid they both suffer with immense daddy problems and trauma alone.

like liv would be the best mom to jake because she knows what it's like to feel so out of place and alone due to who you are (albeit she's a super soldier created to destroy and kill and he's just an ostracized queer kid who needs a strong community to love and cherish him) and also i feel like everything charles xavier taught liv would make her a great parent.

she literally lives by the saying "never give up on someone who's lost their way, especially if it's someone you love" because that's that the professor always told her when he would tell her stories of when he and erik were still close.

plus the idea that liv would just be the perfect thwart to chucky is HILARIOUS to me. like he'd try to kill her the first time and she pulls a "dead possum" move just to give him a taste of his own medicine by popping out of nowhere and being like "OOGILY BOOGILY BITCH!"

long story short; if i make a child's play / x-men crossover (as well as with heroes nbc because that's just so tightly ingrained in olivia's story that i fucking refuse to remove it and not even god can make me) then we all know it's because i LOVE LOVE LOVE found family stories.

and the idea of liv and andy being forced to work together but simultaneously hating each other for no other reason other than andy finds her unbearable and olivia finds him ridiculous is amazing. i just know eventually they'd become great friends, but andy hates her because she punches and claws her way through everything and she hates him because he's too overly cautious for her liking. literally bffs in the making.

also dad peter petrelli to jake is really fucking cute to me because i know pete would just be the best dad whether it's through blood or not. like pete would 100% try to connect with jake at any costs and would try and relate to him through shared interests. also peter feels like the kinda dude who'd be like "woo gays, gay it up" unironically because he wants to be supportive so so badly but is also lowkey a lil confused. def not bigoted because i could never imagine peter discriminating against anybody for their sexuality, gender, race, or anything like that. he's just a very very straight italian man who wants to connect with his foster son.

i just want to force this concept down everyone's throat now and i will never stop until i've done so :)

[wyrm-with-a-why]

I’ve been watching X-Men Evolution for three days straight so you get x-men thoughts.

Megatron having to send the Stunticons to the Xavier institute because it would help them better control their powers and give her some well deserved rest. or just. Megatron + her mutant kids in general hecause I think they’re really fucking fun.

She’s running off fourteen black coffees and the promise of a back rub if she survives the day

[teletubbyinlipstick]

owl hybrids.... honestly brilliant, I frigging love owls 🦉 141 better spoil their little mate good. Dying to know who gets to preen with her first

Yess! Love owls frfr They're going to smother them in love and affection, and yeah, it'll be sweet.

I'm kinda torn on who's gonna preen her first, tbh.

I'm thinking they're all finally in the nest, and she slowly starts pulling and preening Johnny's wings and Gaz reaches out to get loose feathers from the ends of her wings and soon everyone's got a hand running through her soft feathers.

I'll figure it out haha

[luvmahae]

where you are ‣ lee haechan smau

summary: what the absolute fuck is up baby! fall semester marks the peak of greek life at ncu. the campus quad is filled with tents representing various fraternities and sororities with their letters proudly presented in front of each booth, all eager to recruit new members. as students return to campus, they are met with a flood of fliers and invitations to parties, mixers, and rush events. while you were walking through the crowd of eager freshmen to join these organizations, you bumped into someone very unexpected...

what do you do when you bump into the guy you hooked up with after a music festival during summer break? instead of the royal blue basketball jersey you first met him in, it was replaced by a varsity jacket with the letters reading "ΝΧΘ".

"haechan?"

pairing: fratboy!haechan x fem!reader

genre: smau, non-idol au, college au, fluff, nsfw/suggestive (mdni!) comedy, humor, slight slowburn, strangers to lovers, rave bae core? (am i in love with you or is it just the drugs?)

warnings: mentions of alcohol/substance usage (marijuana, mdma/ecstasy, lsd, cocaine), profanity, jokes about sex and death thrown around, both groups are out of pocket and tmi doesn't exist apparently... no ones safe! the boys gc is kinda questionable (this is where i say men deserve no rights!), haechan x reader met at an edm festival (the term rave bae will be said here and there. rave bae is someone you meet unexpectedly while raving, kinda like your temporary s/o for the duration of the rave or festival... smth like that!) disclaimer notice: these portrayals are fictional and are not intended to encourage or glamorize substance use.

playlist: where you are - john summit | club classics - charli xcx | intimidated - kaytranada, h.e.r. | high and i like it - it's murph, evalyn | what a life - john summit, stevie appleton | saving up - dom dolla | talk talk - charli xcx, troye sivan | mr useless - shygirl, sg lewis, club shy | atmosphere - fisher, kita alexander | thinking about you - calvin harris, ayah marar | gas pedal remix - john summit, subtronics, tape b, sage the gemini

notes: omg!!! my first post ever... honestly i've been debating to do this for a long time... now here i am :D ngl i lowkey based this off a personal experience (i am a changed woman now okay... spare me! 😭) my first lil fic dedicated to haechan!!! the playlist is highly edm biased with a sprinkle of brat. i just think it fits the vibe so well hehe. open to feedback and enjoy!!! ♡

status: ongoing!

taglist: closed!

profiles: live laugh love y/n (1), john summit fanboys (2)

intro: so.... edc next year?

one: comedown

two: wtf is college

three: boutta fuckin jump (written)

four: y/n’s eras tour

five: is my brain braining?

six: heyyyyyy 👀

seven: i know what u are…

eight: tequila ftw (written)

nine: ot3 timeout

ten: i want u 😩

eleven: drunk olympics

twelve: stuDYING

thirteen: agram 🙏😭

fourteen: gn haechan (written)

fifteen: team y/n

sixteen: options

seventeen: u did ur big one 😞

eighteen: h for harry styles

nineteen: kms postponed! (written)

twenty: haechan x y/n crumbs

twenty-one: how tf we feelin (written)

twenty-two: use protection 😏

twenty-three: missed connection

twenty-four: shhhh 🤫

twenty-five: enemies to lovers trope

twenty-six:

twenty-seven:

twenty-eight:

twenty-nine:

thirty:

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Four

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Drinking, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), orgasms!!! MDNI

Side note: The house has solar panels and though probably unrealistic, for the story they have some electricity

Masterlist

Price could see it. The nerves bubbling in your stomach, cheeks flushed with an ample shade of red.

He watched you turn, wet clothes drawn to your subtle curves, the swell of your hips outlined as you jogged away. He continued sweeping, smile evident through the crinkle of his eyes with an occasional glance at the door, hoping you would come back and tell him that you did in fact, need help keeping warm.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were darting past Gaz, tumbling straight to your bedroom. Your clothes were uncomfortable, sticking to your skin like a disease as you peeled them off and slapped them against the tub, a large thump ringing out.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your upper half visible as you cupped the brassiere, Price’s words replaying in your mind as you stared, pushing your breasts together in an attempt to feel sexy before letting out a soft groan and unclipping it.

For the most part, you had made do with clothes, having brought a couple when things went to shit and you were somewhat glad that the woman who lived here before you wasn’t completely out of touch with her style. You smoothed the long sleeve down as you brushed your drenched hair out, ringing it into a bun.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pulling at your cheeks before you began to talk in an attempt to see what they saw when they looked at you. You posed in the mirror before freezing, realising how ridiculous you were being before you plonked downstairs, the sound of your footsteps barely visible thanks to the massive socks you were wearing.

You rummaged through your bag that you had thrown to the side, stocking the cupboards with the tins you had found at the store and the large bag of sugar that you would hopefully be able to bake with, almost tempted to swallow a raw spoonful right now.

You heard the back door shut, a much wetter Price trailing in, stripping off his jacket. Your gaze faltered for a second, taking in the way his clothes clung to his frame, like he did to you, before you looked away.

“Need help?” He asked, his tone almost soothing.

“Didn’t get much, just some tinned vegetables and a bag of sugar. The rest is personal.”

Blue eyes flickered to your bag in curiosity, the hint of a black lid poking out through the top as he raised a thick brow at you. His laugh was almost dry as he walked over and grabbed it, holding it up to the light as the caramel hues swished around.

He muttered something along the lines of, ‘I’ll be damned’ before placing it back on the counter. He paused for a moment, taking you in, the way your lips slightly parted, eyebrows slightly clenched, almost like you wanted to look intimidating and the way your eyes would drop when he looked at you for too long, struggling to find something in the room to focus on.

“You let me know if you need any help with your personal issues, yeah?”

He was talking about drinking the whiskey, you know that, but the way his eyes flickered to your chest, shirt slightly clung to you, the gentle outline of your nipples coaxing through the thin material had your heart pumping faster.

Time passed as you continued to sew, holding the fabric up to yourself, a row of pins stabbed into a tiny cushion to your side. Gaz had settled in the lounge room next to you, eyes occasionally darting to watch you before returning to the page of his book.

You yelped, a loud thump bellowing from outside as you took in the burly frames of two men… and the dead deer laying on the porch. A small buzz sounded through your ears as you looked down, your needle winced through your skin, a shock jolting through you as you picked it out, the instant welcoming of blood streaming down your finger.

Gaz looked at you and then down to your finger, blood evidently slithering down it as he jumped up. “Shit, you ok?”

You nodded, clutching it as you walked over to the sink, an evident wince jolting your frame as you held it under the tap.

“Ay bonnie, didn’t mean to scare you. Y’ alright?” The Scotsman said, stepping inside the house as he shook off like a dog.

“I’m fine,” you muttered as you felt Gaz’s hand grab yours, holding a wet wad of toilet paper to the tiny, yet painful, wound.

“You got bandages?” He said, voice almost a whisper, like it was only meant for you to hear.

“Inside the shared bathroom upstairs, under the cabinet.” Your tone was gentle, it almost felt unusual to use. You watched him nod, bolting upstairs as Soap rushed over, his mohawk extra pointy due to the rain causing a light laugh to pass your lips.

“Aye lass, I’m sorry,” he said, hand wrapping around your finger as he pressed tightly on the wound to constrict the bleeding. Your body twitched slightly, as the pain began to subside at the pressure.

Gaz walked back over, gently unwrapping the makeshift cotton bud as he wrapped the plaster around it, a small prickle of blood quickly disappearing under the sticky beige. You rustled away from the pair as you walked back over to the couch.

Ghost stood there, eyes focused on your every move.

“You’re dripping all over the floor,” you muttered, his gaze dropping to the small puddle he was forming at his feet before he grunted, heavy feet stomping up the stairs.

“Y’ making a skirt?” Soap asked, tone curious as he held up the fabric before plonking down next to you, his weight causing u to sink further into the old couch.

“Trying to,” you replied, taking the skirt from him and placing it on the plush mannequin you found hidden away in the basement months ago.

“Looks good,” Gaz interjected, taking a seat across from you both.

You frowned, suddenly overwhelmed as you looked at the carcass on the porch. “You should prepare that before flies get to it,” you snap, voice coming off more harsh than you intended it too as you glanced at the deer, Soap agreeing with a smile before him and Gaz disappeared out the back door.

It was strange, you weren’t used to sound, especially not the sound of four men. It made your toes curl, heat coiling in your belly both in anxiety… and in more, yet you couldn’t quite place it.

You felt out of place in your own home as you managed to slink out of your room before walking back and forth infront of the stairs, overthinking your entrance.

You weren’t sure why it mattered so much. None of this was permanent. Sure, you had four giant (and good looking) military men laughing and talking in your kitchen. Nothing major.

Your feet graced the stairs as you braced yourself, stomach in tight fits of heat as you entered the kitchen, their voices hushing as they looked at you.

“Hope you don’t mind that we cooked,” Soap quipped, bright smile on his face as he gestured towards the prepared food.

“No, that’s good, thank you,” you say, voice shallow, almost hesitant. They led themselves to the dining room as you paused, glancing towards your half open bag. With five glasses in your hand and a plate of food in the other, you looked down at the heavy bottle wedged in your pants pocket, almost nervous they would drag them down.

You entered and hesitantly placed the glasses on the table along with your food before sitting. Everyone paused for a moment, the room silent before you awkwardly held up the bottle of whiskey, shy smile on your face as they erupted in bashful cheers. You could even almost notice a small smile under Ghost’s mask.

The night felt more fitting now, your body feeling more relaxed and loose as you took a swig out of your glass. Your throat burned for a second, eyes welling with tears as you forced the mixture down your throat before you sighed, heat spreading through your chest as you passed the bottle to Gaz.

“You ain’ told us much about yourself bonnie, let us know who you wer’ before all this shite occurred,” Soap slurred, accent heavier in his slightly drunken state.

You hiccuped, the whiskey making you feel more comfortable as you tried to remember what life was like 297 days ago. “Um, well I turned 24 just before everything began and I worked at a, um, medical centre about four hours from here I guess. My dad owned a restaurant so I worked there occasionally when he needed it but for the most part I lived with my, uh, bestfriend.”

“An’ what happened to her?” Soap blurted as Gaz nudged him, noticing the way your eyes looked down for a second.

“She didn’t make it. She actually,” you paused, “She actually shoved me into a crowd of zombies to escape but uh, I guess it didn’t really work out for her.” You debated telling them that somehow, for some inapplicable reason, you were invisible, immune, to the walking dead. But you didn’t.

“How’d ya survive that?” A gruff voice said as you snapped your eyes to Ghost.

“Don’t know. She had cut her hand open and she was making a lot of noise… guess she looked more edible,” you said, letting out a dry laugh to lighten the mood.

“Doubt that,” Price grumbled, taking a swig as you blushed at his innuendo.

“Um, what about you guys? You were in the military, how was it?”

They laughed.

“It was what it was. We were damn good at it, all of us, I’ll tell you that much,” Price laughed, a hand clamping Ghost’s shoulder for a second before they turned back to you.

You smiled before you looked outside, the dull light above you imposing a low glow across the room. The wind was harshing, rattling against the windows as rain poured down. They followed your gaze as you cleared your throat.

“I can’t send you guys out in that weather,” you began, almost losing your confidence as they looked at you, hopeful gleams on their faces, “you guys are welcome to stay another night, AS LONG as someone wakes up tomorrow and feeds the animals. I would like a sleep in.”

“Aye lass, I’ll do it,” Soap cheered, harsh hand slapping the table as he poured another shout out for everyone. You watched him hold his glass in the air, gesturing that he wanted to cheers before you reluctantly clinked the glasses together, another rowdy chorus coming from both him and Gaz.

You weren’t quite sure what time it was, all you had known was you had been sitting down here, huddled around the dining table drinking and talking for hours. It was calm, entertaining almost.

Gaz was rambling on about a mission they had done a while back, something about terrorists as you slightly zoned out, eyes fixated on the bulging veins running up Ghost’s forearm.

Price cleared his throat as you looked up. “Don’t be zoning out on us bonnie, I was asking if you had a boyfriend,” Soap hiccuped, drunk out of his mind.

“Okay,” you said, dragging out the y, “it is time for me to head to bed. Goodnight everyone.” You heard a chorus of groans as you waved while exiting, subtle smile laced across your face as you stumbled up the stairs.

You changed, tucking yourself in slightly as you closed your blinds. You stilled at the soft knock on the door, the familiar face of Price peaking through before gently opening it fully.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, “Sorry about Soap, lad gets a bit too confident when he’s drunk.”

You looked at him, the heat of the alcohol still pulling in your chest, nestling in the crevice of your belly as you offered him a polite smile.

“It’s okay, wasn’t uncomfortable by anything, just thought it would be my queue to head up.” He nodded in reply. You could feel his hesitation, one foot in the door, the other out as he attempted to conjure something to say.

You stood up, looking up at him as you let out a low breath. No one said anything, both barely moved, bodies parallel, eyes locked. You felt Price push a strand of hair behind your ear, delicate eyes landing on your lips before looking back up.

Your pupils flickered back and forth, looking at him, almost waiting as he did the same before you licked your lips, coating them with a layer of saliva before gently nodding. You didn’t even need to say anything, he knew.

His lips tasted of whiskey, soft beard gently scratching against your cheeks as your teeth kissed. You felt the door shut, his hands reaching down to grope your ass, fingers nimbly digging into the flesh as you both tumbled backwards, lips interlocked.

Your back fell flush against your pillow, rough hands sliding underneath your shirt, mauling at your tits before resting on your nipples, hardened buds puckering through your shirt as he groaned. His hands were desperate as he pulled your top up, sucking in a deep breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest.

“Jesus,” he whispered and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t so focused on his swollen lips, your hands pulling him by the back of the neck into you again. You both groaned against each others mouths, tongues lapping up the taste of each other and the taste of the alcohol that stained your mouths.

Price’s hands grabbed at your chest, fingers rolling your nipples in between each other, a soft gasp leaving your mouth before you watched him pull away, bending down to take one into his mouth.

You let out a guttural groan, your hand slapping across your lips to conceal yourself from making too much noise. He didn’t break eye contact, cerulean voids staring back at you, hands pawing your free breast and your waist, rubbing and kneading.

You felt his hands tugging at your pants, hips raising automatically for him to remove them. Thank God you shaved earlier. He let out a dry laugh, the evident patch of arousal staining your panties a darker shade of grey as you felt his thumb press against the middle, smearing it around.

“Do you want this?” He asked, thumb stilling for a second as he looked at you for any signs of hesitation. You nodded, head bobbing desperately as you bucked your hips for some friction before his hand crashed down, holding you in place.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes, yes, I want this,” you rushed out before you let out a gentle whine, thumb pressing against your clothed clit, applying a teasing amount of pressure. You relaxed against the pillow, your neck on display as he took initiative, lips grazing against the tender skin as he sucked and licked, no doubt leaving an obvious mark, a claim.

“Gotta take these off,” he spat, hands gripping at the lace, practically burning the fabric against your skin as he ripped them off. You shut your legs instinctively, a harsh slap landing on your thigh as you yelped. “Keep em open sweetheart.”

Your lips were a mix of breathy whines and soft pants as you felt his lips against your thigh, the prickle of his facial hair adding to your desperation as you bucked your hips, his veiny hand landing on your stomach to hold you in place.

You almost screamed in need as you felt his lip against your clit, merely kissing it before you felt his hand touch over it, your heat most likely radiating off of you before two fingers spread you apart, slick clinging to your sex as you let out a muffled whine of humiliation. You were so bare to his eyes, so exposed. You heard him shudder, eyes looking up at you before back down to your pussy, clit throbbing in anticipation.

The guttural sound that escape your mouth when you felt his tongue lick a stripe of your slit was borderline embarrassing as your thighs clamped around his head. Price’s tongue was impetuous as he licked, slurping up whatever he could taste of you as you bucked and whined.

Clammy hands pawed at your tits as he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he lapped like a madman. You felt him everywhere, the taste of him in your mouth, his hands on your chest and his lips on your wet cunt, eating as if it was his last meal.

You hadn’t felt this good in - ever. It took 24 years of your life and an apocalypse to finally get your pussy ate right.

You mewled at the overwhelming sensation, the coil quickly building up in your belly, aggravated to release as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking, as you nearly screamed in pure ecstasy. You were a sight of pathetic moans, hips greedily grinding against his face as you reached your high.

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you whined as you felt his tongue dive back down, plunging at your leaking hole, nose rubbing against your sensitive bud as you whined, the overwhelming feeling of him pulling at your nipples sending you into an overdrive as you threw your head back.

Your back arched, head throwing itself back along with your eyes as your legs shook. You could feel your pussy clenching around his tongue as rough skin met your clit, pinching slightly as you squealed, your body wracking with overstimulation.

“That’s it baby, take what you need,” he groaned against your sex, tongue continuing to lap at your newly spilling juices, strings of your slick coating his beard and moustache just like you imagined it that first night.

You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance before you gasped, the stretch of his two fingers (equaling probably 3.. maybe 4 of yours) burned through your body as you felt his other hand moving circles around your twitching clit, the need to orgasm already coaxing through you again at the overstimulation.

His fingers moved slowly, feeling around your gummy walls, searching for your sweet spot before your body jerked. There it was.

It was a continuous movement, rubbing and nudging continuously at the place that had you practically gnawing into your fist. His fingers almost scissoring you open before his mouth latched down again, licking greedily at the flowing slick.

A strings of expletives left your mouth as you gripped his hair, tugging at the roots, your spare hand toying with your own nipples as you watched him fuck you open on his massive digits.

“This what you needed, huh? Needed to be fucked out on someone’s fingers? Did yours make you feel like this baby?” He cooed, tongue lapping lazily against your clit as he watched you shake your head furiously, pants leaving your lips like a dog without water as you chased your second high.

“I’m gonna-“ you began before you practically screamed out, his lips sucking against your clit again, fingers fucking into you at the perfect speed, filling every corner with pure bliss before you were coming again, hips bucking as your legs vibrated against his shoulders, a small line of drool pooling out of your lips as he fingered you through your orgasm.

“Just like that love, such a good fucking girl.” His voice was almost a growl, fingers slowing down as he slurped, his head resting against your thigh as he watched your fucked out expression.

He didn’t stop, his movements only becoming more gentle before you whined, nudging his head away at the overstimulation. You felt empty when he pulled his fingers out as you looked down at your pussy, your clit swollen, the crevice of your ass coated with your slick, a soft pool leaking onto your blankets.

The bed jerked as he got up, the leaky sound of the tap opening almost startling you before he came back. “Open em love,” he murmured as you obliged. The damp towelette soothed you as he wiped you up, cleaning you up before chucking it in the bath. “Can wash that tomorrow,” he hummed before looking at you, still standing.

“Did you want me to le-“

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Need to take you up on that offer of keeping me warm. Is that ok?”

“More than.”

[7s3ven]

MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( master list )

Continuation of this

Do y’all want individual oneshots of how you met each of them?

Notes: reader has piercings (ear lobes and navel piercing + gets a tongue piercing), reader has tattoos (tramp stamp + shoulder)

Princess treatment… only the best for their sweetheart.

- There’s nothing these four men won’t do for you. Oh, you want more clothes? Price is already contacting a high-end boutique. You’re favourite YSL heels broke? No worries, Kyle has a back-up pair. You want a tongue piercing to match your navel one? Jonny is already making the appointment. You want a specific type of lobster that’s only found in a foreign country? Simon somehow has it on hand.

- The day you decided to get tattoos is the day Simon stopped functioning. He had his fair share of ink plastered on his skin but he can never look away from that damn tramp stamp on your lower back. It’s hard to concentrate when you stretch and your shirt rides up, giving him a clear view of the taunting tattoo

- It’s no secret that everybody is jealous of your relationship with your boys and vice versa. You’ve seen women eyeing your lovers, attracted to their muscles and tall height

- Trips to the mall are your favourite thing in life. They always have been. It gets better when your lovers start accompanying you. You’re on the phone, rattling to your friend about her unhealthy relationship with her boyfriend

“I don’t see the appeal in him anymore, Miae. I mean, he’s like, a total jerk.” You pause to take a sip from your iced tea, “He doesn’t even treat you with respect. That’s like, the first rule of being a boyfriend! On top of that, his cologne reeks. I literally drown in it every time I’m near him!”

- You best believe your boyfriends are trailing behind you, secretly listening to the conversation and agreeing that Miae should breakup with whoever this guy was

- You’re carrying multiple shopping bags as you stride forward, people subconsciously making a path for you. You look a spoiled heiress with four large bodyguards towering over everybody

- Price, Kyle, and Simon aren’t usually interested in gossip but when they hear about your gossip nights with Jonny, they have to join. They end up listening to you rant about a rather sticky situation your friend is in and when they see you next, they always ask for updates

- Online shopping is a must. What kind of girl would you be if you weren’t debating whether to buy that skirt or not?

- Your apartment has always been… messy. You never find the motivation to clean it and even if you do, you get overwhelmed quickly. Gaz intervenes most of the time, cleaning it for you. He cooks too. And bakes. Anything to see a pretty smile on your face

- Of course, Price bought you the apartment. It was the best (and biggest) one for sale

- All four men have a soft spot for you, doing things they usually wouldn’t just to hear your laugh. And they are the masters of cheering you up when you’re on your period

- If anyone dares flirt with you, it’s over for them. It’s an unspoken rule within the city that you belong to the TF 141 mafia

- The four men love seeing you dolled up. Most of the time, you’re wearing items they’ve bought you. You treat the Dior bag Simon gifted you like a damn puppy

- You are their whole world and you know what they say; ‘happy wife, happy life’. Sure, you aren’t married yet but it’s bound to happen soon. Your friend swore they spotted Price and Simon looking at rings

- Anything you want, you get, which includes new nails. Price adores paying for your nail appointments. The sight of you staring down at your decorative nails in awe when you think he isn’t watching is adorable

- Johnny isn’t so innocent. Yeah, the nails look good but they feel even better being raked down his back

- Kyle is the one surprising you with flowers. You once returned to your apartment only to find it overtaken by nature. He even leaves cute little notes in hidden spots

- Simon is… Simon. He’s not doing outwardly romantic gestures, choosing to keep it behind closed doors. His way of showing his love to you in public is keeping you close, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Sometimes he lets you sit on his lap, his leg bouncing as a way to preoccupy himself while you scroll through celebrity drama

- They’ll be damned if they let someone else sweep you off your feet. It’s not like you’d leave willingly anyway. They spoil you too good and you feel too safe in their arms to even think of leaving