INCIDENTDROPOUT

Just a little thang doing lil things (18)

[twolegsandbleeds]

you've got used to simon’s silence when he's deployed. no calls. no texts. he simply vanishes from your shared life.

before his last mission, you’d pressed a small, matte black disc into his palm.

“what th’ fuck is this?” he’d grumbled, eyebrows knitted together.

“pocket pussy,” you’d deadpanned back. “best one i could get. you fuck it, i feel it. means i know you’re still alive… and we can both get off while you’re gone.”

his ears went red, but he’d tucked it into his bag without another word.

now, almost every night, you feel him.

thick fingers parting your folds, brushing over your clit until you’re soaked and trembling. then comes the stretch - his cock pressing into you from halfway across the world. you recognise every ridge, every vein, the perfect shape of him. 

sometimes he fucks you hard and fast, like he’s angry at the distance, hips snapping until your back arches and you cum with his name falling from your lips. other nights he’s slow, teasing your clit with absent circles of his thumb while he edges you, leaving your legs shaking and your voice hoarse from begging even though there's no way for him to hear you.

you’ve even felt him in the middle of the day - once when you were doing the big shop, having to pretend to be closely examining the nutritional information on a packet of cereal whilst your legs trembled. once in the shower, knees buckling as he thrust into you without warning, the stretch absolutely obscene. 

but every time he uses that little black disc, relief floods you.

he’s alive and he’s thinking of you.

[johnpricescumrag]

I just found you account yesterday and binged through all of your content lol

Two questions tho

Can I be 🦭 anon

And

Can you write something about cod men(the ones you wrote for) using a portal pussy on fem!reader??

Absolutely!!

~

Buying a portal pussy for your boyfriend, Johnny, was probably one of the worst best ideas you've ever had. He's such a horny little bastard, you should've known that he would share the portal with his teammates.

-

"Go on, lads, my Bonnie's okay with it." Soap laughs, sipping a cold beer.

Gaz lunges forward, yanking the portal pussy up off of the coffee table. He lightly stroked the folds of the portal pussy - your pussy.

"She's already so wet." Gaz laughs, easily plunging two fingers into the portal. It doesn't take much time for him to coax an orgasm from it, your pussy clenching and spasming wildly around his fingers.

Gaz frees himself from his pants, his cheeks warming as his colleagues stare at him. He lines his rock-hard cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing himself into your soft, wet cunt.

It doesn't take long for Gaz to bury himself balls deep, moaning as he fills you with cum. Gaz pants weakly, keeping the portal stuffed with his softening cock.

Price yanks the portal off of Gaz, making him jerk and moan weakly. Your pussy's gaping and leaking cum. "Messy little thing, isn't she?"

Price's fingers press the cum back into you. He teases your opening with his cock, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. Price sinks into you with virtually no resistance, Gaz having loosened you up.

"Fuck, oh fuck." Price groans, forcing your pussy down to the root of his cock. "She's - she's fuckin' squeezin' me."

Price grunts as he fucks into the portal. He curses and gasps under his breath. Price's thrusts are brutal and deep. He can feel himself colliding with your cervix every time he bottoms out.

Price cums with just the tip of his cock sliding inside you, so that his cum immediately oozes out, making the portal even messier. Price wipes his cock off on your opening, smirking when he sees your cunt clench.

Price passes the portal off to Ghost.

Ghost rolls his balaclava up over his nose and brings the portal up to his lips. He laps at your cunt feverishly, sucking at your folds to drink the cum from you. Once Ghost's licked every drop of cum from your puffy, abused pussy, he finally pulls the portal away from his mouth.

"She's fuckin' delicious." Ghost groans, spitting on his cock to lube himself up.

"I know she is." Soap smirks, watching with hazy eyes as Ghost pushes his thick, long cock into the portal.

It doesn't take long for Ghost to cum. Your pussy was squeezing around him so tight it was almost like a vice.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ghost moans, pulling the portal down to the hilt. "Jesus Christ."

-

When Soap gets home at the end of the night, he finds you on your shared bed, covered in sweat. "Have a nice day, bonnie?"

[yousummonedme]

Just Thinking About: feral cat hybrid

Cw: + SMUT! MDNI

who’s just… wild. She makes a hobby of tap dancing on every one of Simon’s frayed nerves. Simon tolerates a lot of her antics. His cards go missing when she wants to go on an exorbitant shopping spree. He’ll fuck, finger, or eat her for hours, till her appetite is sated. He’s covered in scratches and bite marks and traces of liquid from when she insisted on marking him as her property. He’d give in to her whining and pouting in a heartbeat, for just about whatever it is as long as it doesn’t harm her. He turns a deaf ear to her sassing him for no goddamn reason (she just wants him to punish her and loves seeing him wrapped around her little finger). Everyone knows he worships the ground she walks on.

But even Simon has his limits. She’d teasing him for days. She briefly rub against him while passing by. She’d bend over and stretch like cats do— face down, ass up, and tail raised to show her pretty little holes. She’s wearing his shirt, no panties. When he was sitting on the couch with a book or the Telly, she straddle his lap. She’d purr and nuzzle him needily like she was about to go into heat. But the instant he tried to touch her or relieve the strain of his leaking cock, she’d dodge and prance away.

He’d lost it when he caught her— after all that show, dressed in his shirt, on his bed— grinding against Soap’s mouth. Jaw clenched, Simon crosses the room in two strides and pulls her off with one arm. Soap just sits up, face wet and covered in a smug grin.

Fifteen minutes later, she was handcuffed to the bed, with Simon roughly pounding her from behind. Her ass rippled with each thrust, and Simon’s eyes gleamed as he gripped thick handfuls of her soft flesh. She mewled his name, trying to reach behind to grasp him. Her drool pooled against her pillow, and she gulped. Beneath her, Soap’s tongue was working furiously at her clit. Occasionally, he’d slid down to her entrance and try to sneak tastes of Simon’s dick as it moved. Johnny wasn’t allowed to touch himself, nor was he allowed to stop licking no matter how many orgasms she had or how much she begged.

She screamed as Simon bent over her, his arms bracing on either side and his firm chest pressed flush against her back. His length felt so much bigger, and it ground against her sensitive walls. Soap sucked harshly at her clit, making her writhe to get away from all the stimulation. Soap released her clit and traveled lower. He planted kisses along her lips, down to her vagina, all the way till he reached Simon.

Bent over her, Simon’s rim was exposed; and Johnny swiped his tongue along it. Simon jolted, pushing his cock further into her. Johnny grinned and doubled down. He dug his fingers into Simon’s cheeks and pulled them apart to get more access. He sucked and made out with and shoved his tongue into Simon’s hole. She cried out as Simon went wild and fucked her harder. “Just take it.” He grit, his hips a blur as it oscillated between her dripping warm cunt and Soap’s eager mouth, “Wanna be a brat so bad, you can take the consequences.”

Simon pulled her down all the way, impaling her and pressing down on the bulge his tip made. With a loud groan, he climaxed. He spurt so much into her, he could have sworn the bulge grew larger under his fingers. Soap’s pants were soaked as well; he’d orgasmed untouched just by lapping at them and humping the air to relieve the tension.

When Simon finally pulled away, she was already knocked out. Soap hurried to suck the squirt and cum before it dripped out. She jolted at each lap to her sensitive clit.

“Reckon she learned her lesson?” Soap licked his lips and looked down at her sleeping form. Simon just chuckled darkly. “Nah. Feral cats don’t tame easy.”

[lesserthan-3]

Pleaseeeee do more of the portal pussy with tf141🙏🙏

cw freeuse

it’s a ritual everyone must go through. hell, it’s the military, place where egotistical men get off on the power of being older- it would be weird if there wasn’t any type of hazing.

so when the new recruits come, the team finds the perfect opportunity where you’re home on leave to have some fun since youve up and left them dry without a nice cute body to dump their loads on or in.

they have the group of young men line up, each one standing with both resolve and tension. they await their fates as ghost walks up and down the line. tension hangs in the air…would they be cleaning the bathrooms? punched in the gut? who knew?

ghost approaches the man at one end, muscular, probably of latin descent with jet black hair. and that’s when ghost extends his hand with your pussy in it. the recruit doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even let his eyes drop down to the toy.

“know what this is, recruit?”

the recruit swallows. “yes, sir.” there’s a pause. “a pocket pussy, sir.” yes, a portal pocket pussy.

“good.” he takes the recruits hand, shoving the toy onto his grasps. “show me what you can do.”

and thats when the recruit finally shows some type of reaction, glancing back up and down from the pussy in hand to the ice cold stare of his Lieutenant. “you mean….use it? sir?”

soap interrupts, “lick it, finger it, fuck it, prove yourself kid.”

theres a moment of hesitation but with three of his superiors there, nothing could be done, so the recruit slowly brings his fingers up and down the silicon slit that feels just a little too real to be considered silicon. technology must have advanced quickly!

price looms over the shoulder of the recruit, eyes narrowing on his careful choices. “c’mon son, you a virgin? that how you fuck a lady?”

so the recruit swallows his inhibitions and sinks two fingers into the warm cunt. hes immediately met with a lewd squelch and his fingers burn with a heat that he assumes is his own embarrassment. and hes so enamored with the way the toy seems to squeeze around him that he doesn’t even notice three particular stares watching the way the toy magically gets wetter and wetter.

and then he passes it down the line as instructed to do per captain’s orders. the next recruit is much more eager, his dick already out as he slaps his hardened length against the plush cunt of the toy. he’s nudging the clit with his tip before sinking his average dick into the cute little hole thats just made with so much detail for a toy!

then theres a man whos pushing in the base of his knife into the hole, collecting the drippings and shoving it back in with the tenderness of a brick. then a boy who can only swipe frantically across its clit. then some brute who’s humping his dick lamely into the soft opening. one by one, they pass down the toy- some determined to show “skill,” and others just wanting an excuse to get off.

and then theyre nearing the end of the line. soap takes the toy and puts it in the recruits hand. the recruit doesnt hesitate, but calmly brings the toy to his lips. he experimentally blows against the clit and miraculously, it twitches. theres a soft kitten lick at the bundle of nerves before he engulfs it all into his warm mouth, sucking tenderly on the throbbing bud.

he pants softly against the sopping cunt, slipping in two fingers subtly and curling them up in an excruciatingly slow pace. “horny fuck,” says soap, but the recruit ignores him, spitting down the slit before feverishly taking whatever can fit into his mouth.

“at least the boy is committed,” remarks ghost, crossing his arms as he observes the way the recruit is practically grinding his own face into the toy, nose tapping on the underside of the clit with every press of his tongue.

if someone needed to know the meaning of addiction, this was the epitome of it- the way he was sucking on you deliriously, with no intent of stopping, licking and swallowing every bit of arousal that was produced. and it probably would have kept going, if not for the sudden squirt of the toy that sends the recruit pulling back from shock.

everyone stares in awe, and even more so from three particular men. its quiet and the only sounds that can be heard is the filthy drips of squirt falling onto the ground. “didnt know she could do that…” soap mumbles softly. “you ever…?”

and before he can even finish asking the question, ghost answers in one of the most unpleasant tones ever heard, “no. never.”

the recruit wipes his chin with the back of his hand, lowering the pocket pussy. “some toy youve got. didnt know they made those features.”

price stands curiously, approaching the recruit with an unreadable expression. “whats your name, son?”

and the recruit doesnt back down but rather, he stands tall. “kyle garrick, sir.”

~bonus~

*reader sending a picture of soaked through jeans to the tf141 group chat with the caption “you fuckers.”*

a/n gaz is a munch! I know it

[sweetapplcider]

“Johnny please!” You whine, clawing at his vest and looking up at him with big needy eyes.

“You know that I can’t help you right now, love.” The Scotsman cooed back. And it was true, he couldn’t help you at the moment, he was preoccupied with training the new batch of recruits that came in last week. The only reason why he could pop in and check on you was because Simon was out on the field with them. Thought he knew that Simon would soon need him back down there.

You groaned and rolled around so that you were now lying on your stomach. The firm cushions of Simon’s office couch did nothing to comfort your aching body. The wolf hybrid had ordered you to stay in there once he found out about your sudden heat.

“Please Johnny I need you.” You lifted your hips up and arched your back a bit, presenting yourself to the grizzly man in front of you. If it wasn’t for his military training and discipline, he would have gave in just from your scent alone. God, it was so sweet and thick, it would make any man’s pupils bloat in a matter of seconds.

“Shh lovey, you have to be patient. Soon we’ll both come and help you, okay? You want Simon’s knot don’t you?” He asked, teasing sympathy was laced through each vowel he spoke. All you could do was nod and bite down on your puffy bottom lip.

“Then be patient. Now stay and be good.” He ruffled your hair before leaving the room, locking the door behind him. He didn’t give two fucks about the extremely noticeable tent in his pants. He was grateful that they were thick enough to hide the pre-cum he knew was leaking through his boxers and staining the interior.

————————

“How is she?” Simon grunted to Johnny quietly, watching the recruits run lap after lap.

“Desperate. Poor thing is probably clawing at the door waiting for us.”

“Did you give her any?”

Johnny sighed at Simons question. Though really he knew the answer. All it took was one look at Johnny’s pants to come to the conclusion that he didn’t. Simon shook his head and let out a deep sigh. He knew it was going to be a long night.

“Let’s wrap this up then, still gotta fill out a lot of shit so we can take this week off.”

————————

Four hours

They both had been gone for four more hours, leaving you in that stuffy office too moan and whimper all alone.

You laid on that same couch the whole time, you had at some point pulled your slick soaked pants and panties down and used the only thing you had to attempt to satisfy yourself.

Your fingers smoothed over your clit, giving you orgasm after orgasm, but nothing cured your ache for Johnny’s tongue or Simon’s knot.

Fingering your sweet cunny didn’t help either, you could barely reach your own g-spot without their help. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you called out for them. You had been so patient (not) but you couldn’t wait much longer. Slick stained Simon’s couch along with a bit of drool. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the door open. You only noticed you weren’t alone when a rough palm gently pet your thigh. You looked up before scrunching your brows.

“Si… you took too long.” You pouted, your fingers still trying to reach that sweet spot in you. “I know baby. Let us make it up to you, yeah?” The lights then turned off, thanks to Johnny who was standing by the door. Before you could get any words out, Simon took your busy hand and gently slid your fingers out of you, causing you to ket out a frustrated whine. He chuckled before bringing your hand up to his mouth and sucking the slick off your wrinkled digits. He then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, taking an old jacket that was in the office and using it to cover your exposed parts.

“Let’s get you back to bed lovey.” Simon hummed, Johnny wanted to make a snarky job as you two walked past but Simon gave him a look, knowing him too well to let him agitate you even more.

They took you back to Johnny’s barrack, unlocking the door before stepping into the room. It was a disaster, clothes thrown about wildly from your pre-heat nesting. There were beer cans and wrappers from Johnny’s “midnight snacks.” Simon only shook his head and sighed in disbelief, you both knew how much of a clean freak he could be.

He set you on the bed before peeling the rest of your damp clothes off. You whimpered when you saw Simon’s hands reach down to touch you, craving the peace he would finally give you, but that never came. Instead you watched Johnny butt him out of them way and drop between your legs.

“Lost ye mind if ya thought that I would let him fuck his knot into ya before I got a taste.” He groaned against your skin as he licked stripes up your thighs. He licked each lip before laying his heavy tongue flat against your slit. You let out the most sultry moan and you slid your hand through his mohawk, pulling him closer until his face was pressed up against your pretty cunt.

He sucked on your clit, tongue fucked your hole, spit on it, everything. He carried on for well over 30 minutes. Coaxing at least 5 or 6 orgasms out of you. Simon had sat down on a couch in the corner, jerking off at his own pace.

Lying against the bed, panting and whining, you hooked your legs off of his shoulders. You pushed his head away from you with your toes, making him look up at you. “Whats wrong lovey, you were doing so good.”

“No more… need a knot please…” you begged. Johnny wiped the slick off his lips and chin before standing. Simon instantly replacing him, you hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten up.

“I have what you need baby.”

[rawme-price]

The concept of reader wearing a lot of jewelry and accidentally setting off dragon!prices instincts...

You wear all your jewelry stacked. Multiple bracelets on each arm, minimum three necklaces and as many rings as you can get away with. It's your style, and you enjoy showing off your collection of accessories.

Unfortunately, price takes on look at you and his instincts say *baby. Fledgling. Little hoard.* because in his mind, you're hoard is so small you carry it around like a kid carries their favorite blanket everywhere.

Meaning price....tends to baby you before he can catch himself.

Small things, like leaving an extra snack from the vending machine on your lunch tray. Or encouraging you to leave early most days when the weather looks poor for your commute. Price has never been particularly broody....but he doesn't feel awfully maternal watching you take your rings off to leave in a little pile of treasures before eating a meal.

If a few more treasures pile on your desk, you don't say anything. It's...nice being his fledgling or whatever. You like it.

[sweetapplcider]

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂 𝐻𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈

Now playing- Sycamore Tree || visuals || AO3 || ongoing

​🇸​​🇪​​🇦​​🇸​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇴​​🇳​​🇪​

1. New Home

2. Are We There Yet?

3. Dinner and Liquor

4. Pretty Puppy

[sweetapplcider]

Warm hands

Pretty Puppy

Ch 4.

The next morning was hard. You woke up with teary eyes and a painful tummy ache. Worst of all, there was no Johnny next to you. His side of the bed was cold and his scent only clung onto the linens of the bed.

Your tail hid between your thighs as you pulled the blanket up over your head and curled up in a ball. You cried and whined quietly under the covers, you tried to think of what could have made your tummy hurt. The food was good, rich, but good. Maybe it was the liquor, you never had liquor before so perhaps this was just a bad reaction. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even hear the door open.

You hadn't noticed anything until a weight settled down on the bed right beside you, and a hand pulled the blankets away from your face.

“Aw, Bonnie what’s wrong. Cannae have ya cryin’ here all alone.” Johnny hummed, looking down at you with a puzzled expression. He thumbed your tears away before stroking your messy hair out of your face. “Tummy ache.” You whimper, shying away from his touch. He pulled his hand away and just looked at you for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t have a lot of time to comfort you, he had the morning shift at the 141 and Kyle would kill him if he was late again.

“Sit up for me.” He said, putting his hand on your lower back. His brows knitted tight as you whimpered, “Easy now, Bonnie,” he murmured, voice dipping low like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal. “I know it hurts, just lean on me, alright?”

You sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you clutched your middle.“I don’t feel good,” you whispered, breath shaky.

“I know, bonnie. I know.” Johnny cupped your cheek for a second, just to ground you, before slipping his arm around your waist and guiding your legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ve gotcha. Bathroom’s just a few steps.” Once he got you in there he sat you on the counter just like last night and brushed your teeth for you once again before checking your temperature. “No fever.” He then wiped your face with a damp washcloth and fixed your hair up a bit so he could take you down stairs.

“Gonna get ya down to john so he can fix ya up.” He guided you out of the room and down the hallway where John was. The taller man was standing by the stove, cooking something that made the room smell amazing, onlying turning around when Johnny said his name.

“Morning pups, sleep well?” He asked, not yet realizing how bad you were feeling. “Slept good, but she woke up feelin buggie. I gotta go, take care of ‘er fa me, yeah?” His voice trailed off as he pulled out a chair at the dining table for you. “Oh sweetheart, is that right?” John asked, turning the stove off and turning towards the sink to wash his hands before going over to Johnny and patting him on the back.

“I’ll be back ‘round five or six,” Johnny promised, giving John a kiss. “Text me if she throws up or gets worse, alright?”

John gave a brief hug and smile before nodding “Go. I’ve got her.” John then turned back towards you and pulled out the seat directly in front of you for himself. “What's wrong, lovie?”

“Tummy ache.” You felt like you had already said this fifty times already. “Alright pup, I’ll get you some ginger tea and maybe a bit of plain toast, see if it settles.” He stated as he rose back up from the chair, you stayed quiet, sitting stiffly in your seat with your arms curled protectively around your stomach. “Ya’know, I think you’re having aches because of stress.” John started, “Bein taken from your home, taken into a whole new family and life. Hell, I'd be stressed too.”

He set the kettle on the stove and began rummaging through the pantry for tea, his voice calm and steady, “Sometimes our bodies don’t know how to say ‘I’m overwhelmed,’ so they just start shoutin’ in the only language they’ve got. Headaches, tummy aches, tired bones. It’s all just your body askin’ for a bit of kindness.”

You sniffled, looking down at your lap. You hadn’t really thought of it that way. “I don’t want to be trouble,” you mumbled, almost inaudibly.

John glanced over his shoulder, then turned fully to face you, a gentle frown carved into his face. “You’re not,” he said simply, and it was not up for debate. “You’re just someone who needs lookin’ after right now. That’s no trouble for us, love.”

He came back over with the tea, still too hot to sip, and set it down in front of you before crouching a bit, bringing himself to your eye level. Your lip wobbled. You blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but one slipped down your cheek anyway. You weren’t sure if you were crying because of the ache in your stomach or because of the odd combination of emotions you were feeling.

You reached for the tea, holding the mug with both hands though you didn’t dare sip yet. It was enough just to feel its warmth, to hold onto something.

“Drink up, we have an exciting day today, I want you feelin’ better for it.” Your ears perked up at that. John noticed your ears twitch and smiled softly, “That got your attention, huh?” You nodded, blowing on the hot tea to cool it down a bit. “What are we gonna do?” You asked.

John gave you a soft chuckle before speaking, “We’re takin’ a trip to the village,” he said, leaning back on his heels before standing again. “Nothin’ fancy, just the little market in town. I thought we’d get you some bits of your own. Things you like. Maybe a dress or two. Some sweets.”

Your tail gave a faint flick, uncertain but intrigued. “I get to pick?”

“Course you do.” He grabbed a small plate and started slicing up some toast for you, speaking casually over his shoulder. “You’ve been wearin’ what we gave ya, eatin’ what’s on your plate, sleepin’ where we told you to. I think it’s time you start buildin’ a bit of your own space in all this.”

You looked down into your mug, unsure what to say. The idea of going out still made your tummy flutter, but not in a bad way anymore. Just… nerves.

“You don’t have to talk to anyone,” he added, sliding the toast in front of you. “I’ll do all the yappin’. You just tell me if you want somethin’, yeah?”

“…Okay.”

“Atta girl.” He ruffled your hair, gentle with it so it wouldn’t tug at any knots. “Eat, drink, and then we’ll head out once that tea’s settled your belly.”

You took a bite of the toast; it was warm, soft, and a little buttery despite John saying that it would be plain.

John was right, his tea and toast did cure your ailments to your surprise.

John noticed the change too. He only gave a small, satisfied nod as he moved around the kitchen, tidying up and whistling quietly an old tune you didn’t recognize but somehow found calming.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked eventually, glancing over. You nodded,“Yeah.”

“Good. Then let’s not waste the day, eh?”

After that he helped you get ready and took you to a city that was maybe 30 minutes away. It wasn’t like the cities where you used to live, this was more comforting. Maybe it’s because the atmosphere was completely different, but you liked it.

John had taken you into at least 10 different stores, and by the time you two were done, you had the largest haul you have ever seen. He also told you to stay in the car while he went into one of the stores himself. It was a smaller shop, you couldn’t really see inside either. But he came out with three bags and when you asked about it, he said it was a surprise which made you pout.

When you guys got home Simon was up and wide awake, leaning against the kitchen doorway with a cup of coffee in hand. His ears flicked forward when John walked in with arms full of bags, there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well then,” he rumbled, “looks like someone had a productive morning.”

You peeked around John’s side, arms full of new things like clothes, soft little knickknacks, a blanket John insisted you pick out because “everybody needs a good blanket.” Your tail curled a little tighter as you caught Simon’s gaze. “Yes we did, isn’t that right pup?” John groans while putting the bags on the ground near the living room. You nodded and watched as John went back out to get the rest of the bags, but before he could walk out of the door he turned to simon and spoke, “help her pick out a room, si.” He then continued to the car.

Simon huffed and then waved for you to follow him. He showed you around the Manor, telling you that his and John’s rooms were upstairs and Johnny and Kyle’s rooms were down here. There were three guest rooms left that you could choose from, two being upstairs and the last being next to Johnny’s.

It wasn’t hard for you to pick, the bedrooms upstairs were large and had good views, but something about the downstairs bedroom just felt more… real to you. It was cozier and easier to adapt to. It was a good medium size, it had a huge window that faced the woods, the closet was a good size too, it also had a jack and jill bathroom that was connected to Johnny’s room. Surprisingly, you hadn’t noticed that last night. The room was just so comforting just stepping into it, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like once you put your things in here.

“Think this one’s yours, huh?” Simon asked from behind you, arms crossed loosely over his chest. You noticed that he often stood like that, must be comfy.

You gave a slow nod. “Yeah… I think so.”

“Alright.” He gave the faintest grin. “Let’s get your stuff in.” He hummed. It didn’t take him long to get your original stuff out of John’s bedroom and bring it in there, he also helped John move the stuff that the two of you had just bought into the room with ease. They both offered to help you set things up, but you declined. You wanted to do this yourself.

All you had from Harlow was that stuffed animal, a few pairs of clothes, and some self care tools that she taught you how to use. So with that, you put the clothes you just bought and the clothes you hand on the hangers in the closet and folded the rest up into the white dresser that was pressed against the left wall. You laid the blanket you got on top of the pretty white comforter. The blanket was a gentle creamish yellow and was one of the softest things you have ever felt. And the little nick nacks and random things he got you went right onto the desk that sat in the corner of the room and on top of the dresser.

All that took two hours and you hadn’t even realized that thirty minutes had passed. You weren’t even going to take a break until you heard John calling your name from somewhere in the Manor. You followed his voice and it lead you to the kitchen once again, where you saw both Simon and John standing around, now dressed in all black.

“Lovie, we have to go to work for the night. You’re gonna come with us just so you don’t have to be alone, and then Johnny and Kyle will take you back home and make you dinner. Okay?” He asked, making sure that you were okay with what was happening, but really you don't have a choice. “Okay, lovie?” You nodded and he looked at you with a lazy smile before ruffling your hair.

“And when you come back, you can look at the surprise I got you. Left it on my bed.”

And just like that, Simon handed you a coat without a word. You slipped it on and followed the two of them out to the car. You climbed into the back seat, clutching the sleeves of your coat as John started the car and Simon took the passenger seat. The ride was quiet, peaceful even, with some low music playing on the radio.

You weren’t sure what to expect when they said “work.” You still didn’t know exactly what they did, you remember John saying Something about it, but you weren't really listening. But John had said you were only tagging along, and that Johnny and Kyle would come get you later. So you trusted him.

About 25 minutes later, when the car finally slowed to a stop you were about to finally see where you were. It was a small building that was lit up with neon and atmospheric lighting. The sign on the front said 141, you werent sure what that meant.

John reached back and gently tapped your knee. “Nothin’ scary, pup. Promise.”

Still, you clung a little closer to John as the three of you got out of the car and walked inside. The inside had music playing, men and women were sitting in different areas drinking, some were playing eight ball, others were watching a game on the telly. You knew now that it was a classic bar, maybe a little more nuanced and an old school one, then again you wouldn’t know the difference anyways. You old owner never took you to a bar before, you only saw them on tv.

“This is where you’ll stay,” Simon said while guiding you to a booth in the corner of the Bar.. “Kyle and Johnny will be here in a few minutes to get you, alright?”

You nodded, sitting down quietly. You weren’t scared, exactly… but it was all so unfamiliar.

He crouched beside you for a moment, tugging your hood gently into place. “Be good.” He said, his tall swishing as he stood back up.

And then they were gone, both going behind some doors that lead probably into a back room or kitchen. You sat quietly for a few minutes, just breathing, looking around, trying not to fidget. But before you knew it the door opened again, and in came Johnny and Kyle. Johnny with his usual grin and Kyle already waving before they even reached you.

“Told ya we’d come get you,” Johnny said. “Ready to head back home, pup?”

You nodded, rising to your feet again.

“Let’s get goin’ then. I’m thinkin’ pasta for dinner.”

You could hear Johnny and Kyle chatting and laughing but you couldn’t join in. You could barely speak this whole time. You were sure if it was because of nerves or what. It was like when you first met them and you were all in the living room. You couldn’t speak then either.

It took the same amount of time as it took to get there to get home, and when you did you scurried quickly away to your new room, heading to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face. You weren't sure why, but your heart was racing, and you couldn’t hear the fact that you were panting and whining. You weren't aware of your surroundings either. You didn’t not the arms wrapping around your waist from behind or the palms gripping your hands until it was too late.

“Sh sh sh, it’s okay bonnie. I know yer overwhelmed. You’re okay…” Johnny hushed, you wanted to panic and thrust yourself from his arms but when he held you like that, it felt right. Deep down you didn’t want it to stop. You let home hold and comfort you, lead you back to your room where he sat you on the bed and coaxed you into relaxation. He was so good at making things better.

“Gonna go help Kyle with dinner, be good yeah? Deep breaths. We’ll be in the kitchen.” He reassured before leaving. His words worked. You had calmed down and your mind was clearer. But now you were thinking about John and that stuff he mentioned to be on his bed. You anyway do your notes before standing and leaving your room, tiptoeing over to the staircase, past Johnny and Kyle‘s room. You took the staircase up to the second floor, and snuck around to John’s room.

When you went in you could clearly see where three bags sat neatly on John’s bed, soft baby blue with black ribbon handles, each stamped with a delicate logo that read Sweet Things. The name alone made your ears flick with curiosity.

You wasted no time opening them with excitement.

Clothes. You were surprised, really.

But not like the ones you’d picked out earlier.

These were different, soft and silky, light against your fingertips. Lace trims, sheer fabrics, delicate little straps, and more holes than you were used to seeing in a shirt or pair of… shorts? Your brows knit together as you carefully pulled out a piece. It looked more like art than something meant to be worn.

There were sets in soft pastels, midnight blacks, and creamy whites. Ribbons and clasps and tiny embroidered flowers. Your cheeks flushed warm as you held one of them up, unsure what to even call it. You’d never worn anything like this before. You weren’t even sure if you were supposed to.

It took you almost ten minutes to figure out how to put one of them on. You will admit that it was absolutely gorgeous, and it made the little puffs of black fur on you stand out. The top was a deep velvet red color as were the bottoms. But the top, you just couldn’t stop looking at it, the spaghetti straps, the slit that went right down the middle from the cups, the bow between the cups. How sheer it was everywhere else. You fell absolutely in love with it. You took the rest of the bags and darted back down to your room, a happy tail wagging behind you. You set the bags on your bed before trailing off to the kitchen where Kyle and Johnny would be and peaked your head in. It took a minute for the two to notice you as they were busy with cooking and preparing dinner but Kyle eventually caught sight.

“Hey sweet-” He paused before even finishing, his eyes damn near analyzing you from top to bottom.

Kyle blinked, the wooden spoon in his hand coming to a slow halt as he stared. “Sweetheart…” he said, but softer this time, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying anything at all. Johnny turned at the change in Kyle’s voice, looking over his shoulder toward the kitchen door and promptly choked on whatever he was about to say.

You shifted a little where you stood, still halfway hidden behind the doorframe, your ears folding back nervously. Your tail gave another soft wag, You hadn’t expected that kind of reaction.

“I- um.” Johnny coughed into his hand, clearly trying to regroup. “You look…” He trailed off, his face flushing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “That’s, uh, new?”

Kyle cleared his throat, finally setting the spoon down. “Where’d you find that, pup?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“John got it for me… you don’t like it?”

Kyle’s eyes widened slightly, and his expression immediately softened. “No, no- that’s not it,” he said quickly, stepping around the counter just a bit, hands lifted. “You look… you look real pretty, sweetheart. Just caught us off guard, is all.”

Johnny gave a sheepish nod beside him, still rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, John has a way of, uh… droppin’ surprises like that.”

You looked between them, still a bit nervous. “I just wanted to show you. I thought it was nice…”

Kyle smiled at that, something fond flickering in his expression. “It is nice. Real nice. Just maybe a bit-” he glanced at Johnny for help. “It’s not everyday wear, bonnie… but I don’t mind.” He said cheekily, making Kyle glare at him.

“Don’t mind him, just come eat dinner.”

Back || Next

[sweetapplcider]

Hello there!!!! I have a quick ask, it's alright if you don't want to write it, I know it's kind of random.

What about hybrid!reader being cranky and biting one of the tf141 boys, then feeling bad for it and hiding from them?

This came to me when I was cranky and chucked something at someone who was bugging me then I felt bad. Anyways thankyou!

Could I also be ✨ anon?

-✨

Omg yes!! I’m so happy!! My first named anon!!!

Otters were supposed to be Cute.

Cute, fuzzy, friendly, and warm.

And for the most part, that’s what they were. They were also playful, smart, and extremely expressive.

The boys expected nothing less from you; a sweet, big eyed, brown furred, otter hybrid. You were the newest addition to the team, a play hybrid. Simon was the most reluctant to bond with you, claiming that the military had no room for “play” but John always rebuttaled by telling him small comforts are good form therapy for men like them.

You warmed up to Kyle the quickest, he was the easiest to get along with. He was gentle and kind to you. Always getting you treats and foods, having you taste test different teas and what not. He taught you how to play many board games and gave you all his best cheats in card games.

And you liked Johnny. Though you thought he was a bit annoying. He was always trying to tease and fluster you, not to mention how handsy the bastard was. But he had some good qualities too. You had to admit. So far he was the only would who agreed to hold hands and cuddle, something that often soothed your instincts.

And John… John was nice enough. He wasn’t mean or rude to you, but he was strict and not around much. He was a very busy man, for Christ’s sake. What did you expect from the captain?

But you started to a sort of animosity towards him when he sent Johnny away. He said the Scot would be back soon but you didn’t believe him. He had already been gone for three weeks. You had no one to cuddle with or hold now and it’s taken a toll on your attitude.

They all noticed the shift but they couldn’t figure out why you were being this way.

John caught the little glares you sent his way and the pouts that would appear on your face every time he walked in the room. Little to say he did not appreciate it. He never said anything about it but he tried to fix it by spending more time with you and trying to give you treats. That seemed to only have the opposite effect.

You stopped wanting to play with Kyle too, and if he did managed to get a game out of you, you mouthed off if he won. He tried to correct your behavior with scoldings, but that only ended up with you chattering your teeth at him in annoyance.

It all got so bad, to the point where when Simon hissed at you for being in his path, causing him to stumble a bit, you bit his hand aggressively.

“Bloody hell! You damn bastard!” Was all it took from the bigger man to send you scurrying away from him, leaving him there with two bleeding holes in his hand.

None of them expected that from you. They didn’t even know your teeth were that sharp??

Now Simon was in the infirmary getting his hand wrapped up, you were no where to be found, John was filling out an incident report, and Kyle was tasked with locating you.

You had ran off in frustration and shame, you didnt want to be found, at least not for a bit. You wanted a chance to sulk and pout and think about what you did. You were ready for a scolding, or worse. 

You were predictable though, hiding in the little river next to the base that you often played in. You were sniffling and hugging yourself while padding around in the water; self soothing or whatever a therapist would call it.

You didn’t even notice that Kyle was out there with you until he started skipping rocks against the water. You were going to try to swim away until you heard his voice, it made you stop in your tracks. You expected a yell or at least an angry tone, but instead you got something sweet and pleasant, like honey.

“Come over, for just a second love. I want’a show you something.” He hummed. You hesitated for a moment but you eventually swam over and sat next to him on the rocks.

He took your palm in his hand and put a flat rock in it. “You know how to stone skim?” He asked, looking at the water instead of you, you shook your head no and he chuckled.

“Try to flick it on the surface of the water.”

You tried and the first time it just sunk and you pouted but he instantly reassured you, handing you another rock and telling you to try again. This time you got it, it didn’t go very far but you were proud of yourself. “Did that feel good?” He asked, you nodded in return.

“I’m glad. I could tell you didn’t want exactly have a good output for your emotions, especially with Johnny gone.” He sighed softly, running his hand over your back.

“figured this might help , you spend a lot of time out here, so I thought I would be convenient too.” He used his free hand to pick up another rock and flick it into the water. “Don’t worry love, Johnny’s coming back. He’s just on a mission, thats all. In the mean time you can sleep in my room, might help. Though, you need to apologize to Simon.”

“I will, promise.”

“Good girl.”

[soliloquysoph]

I’ve brought you a gift!

What do you think about bomb sniffing German Sheppard! reader who has their canines forcibly removed and was debarked because of one failed mission and has been thrown to the 141 because now they are seen as useless

I love the way you think😼

no real warnings just kinda sad at first?

-

The most humiliating thing you could do to a hybrid was take away their defining features. It wasn’t even your fault, your entire team fell for a diversion and you missed one bomb in a crucial spot. Anyone could have missed it and they did, there were other sniffers in the field with you but since you were already on thin ice for biting a commanding officer after he yanked on your tail, you took the fall.

You were strapped down to a terribly uncomfortable leather chair and your mouth pried open as the dentist just barely numbed you up and removed your canines. The only real way of defending yourself if needed. Then they clipped your vocal cords so there went your bark. You could still talk, but you were much quieter and a little hoarse so you just preferred to keep your mouth shut. It wouldn’t be so bad if you looked fully human, but they decided to let you keep your ears and tail. “So you learn your lesson, mutt.”

Then they threw you to another unit. Task force 141. It would have been somewhere less elite but they needed a sniffer and you were damaged goods to your old team now so they didn’t much care. The day you arrived, your ears were pinned down flat against your skull almost hidden in your hair and your tail tucked, you looked miserable. It was a whole other humiliation ritual when you tried introducing yourself and the Scottish one loudly complained that he couldn’t hear you. You only sort of knew Price at the time so you looked at him on the brink of tears and he took over, introducing you on your behalf.

The weeks went by and you slowly got to know everyone else. The Scottish one was Soap, and he ended up apologizing for his first impression. The “pretty boy” was Gaz, who gave you a hat that matched his with ear holes cut out as a sort of welcome gift. Then the masked one was Ghost, quiet like you and oddly comforting in that sense. You slowly but surely began warming up to them, walking about five steps behind them at first until you felt comfortable enough to squeeze in with them. They treated you like they would anyone else, pushed you just as hard during training, talked to you like a person and not a scientific abomination.

Sometimes you’d sneak into their rooms if you missed one of them and roll around in their beds a bit so you could get their scent on you. You were only caught because a tuft of fur blew out from under Gaz’s bed when he opened the door one day. After that, they would each periodically text you to let you know their room would be empty all day so help yourself.

Your first mission with them was probably the worst you’d felt in a few months. The fear of fucking up again and getting a worse punishment crept back in and was evident on your face. Price side eyed you and scratched the spot right behind your ear, silently reassuring you. Thankfully the mission went without a hitch and you got tons of ear scratches on the ride back along with Soap going full dog mode and saying, “Such a good girl lass, look atcha. Oughta give ye a treat, aye?” While keeping you in a headlock to mess with your hair.

You loved your new team and they loved you, defining features or not. Though Ghost did decide to surprise you with a special retainer made with prosthetic canines so you could feel a bit more normal again. That made you ugly cry in his arms for about ten minutes.

But they made you realize you were never the problem, you just needed humanity.

[ser6film]

omg i love love looove your writing!!🥹 could you possibly write (mommy)perv!maeve x fem!reader cooking dinner together (mostly reader whilst maeve watches😛) but maeve just can't help herself around her sweet little girl cause she's a huuuuuge perv (and r's boobs just look so good in that tiny top!) so she ends up fingering r on the kitchencounter😖😖

idk about you, but i loooove aftercare!! like maeve being super rough and degrading, slapping r and choking her during sex, but then giving the sweetest aftercare, like telling r what a good girl she's been and just praising her sweet little bunny😖😖😖

🐰𓏲ּ𝄢 mommy kink , pervy!maeve 𖬺𖬺 sweet𑣲!reader

maeve loved seeng you like this. comfortable, at peace, in your zone, wearing those short shorts and that tiny tank top. she was nursing one of her beer cans, humming to let you know she was listening in on your blabbering. to speak truthfully, she was only half listening, her gaze and attention fixed on your tits, and the way the fabric hugged your curves. “mae,” your sweet voice brought her back to reality, making her hum as she stood up. “can y’taste this please? not sure if it’s too salty,”

she never said no to your requests, not when you asked in a voice that precious. she placed her beer cans down, her hands finding place on your waist as you let her get a taste of the pasta sauce you’d been cooking. “too salty? or should i add more salt?” maeve hummed and nodded her head in approval, making you smile.

you continue to ramble about your day, about work, about the stray cat that followed you home. you don’t seem to notice the way her hands crept beneath your top, groping and playing with your tits—she always loved playing with them. she squeezed harshly, her fingers tugged at your sensitive nipples, eliciting a small hiss from you. “maeve,”

the sound of your voice saying her name, breathy and hitched—alongside the fact that maeve was already pressing herself against you—tore through whatever little restraint she had. you felt her lift you up onto the counter, the cool of the surface against your thighs making you shiver slightly. “mae, the stove—“ she shushes your concerns with a kiss, her tongue sliding into your mouth easily.

you see through fluttering lashes maeve turning off the stove with one hand, as the other already makes works to take off your shorts. you lift your hips up to aid her as she slides the fabric down your legs. you can taste the stinging tang of beer on her tongue before she pulls away. “you do it on purpose.” she husked in your ear while her fingers hooked on the delicate fabric of your panties, pulling them aside to bare your bare cunt.

“walk around all skimpy and acting coy, like you have no idea what you’re doing.” you try to shake your head, deny that you were deliberately trying to entice her, but her fingers are already moving—sliding in so easily thanks to how wet you were. “don’t deny it.” she scoffed. “you wanna be a slut? be proud of it.”

her words hurt. that, and the way her palm met your face with a harsh slap had your eyes welling up, and your cunt clenching around her fingers—both of which she didn’t fail to mention. “you like that? you like it when i hit you, huh?” maeve punctuated with punishing thrusts, curling her fingers to meet that spot deep inside. “say it, bunny. c’mon, say you like it.”

“i like it—nnh! i like it,” you managed between cries, your hands gripping onto the edge of the counter like it were the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “you like what, hm? come on, baby. you’re a big girl, use your words. tell mommy what you like.” you could hear the mockery in her voice as she spoke, and it was almost embarrassing how wet you got just from that. “like it when—ah—when mommy hits me, and- and when she’s mean-”

she slapped you again, your cheek pinching red as she continues fucking your slick pussy, stretching you out as she adds a third finger. “good girl.” maeve says before wrapping her big hand around your slender neck, her thumb pressing slightly on your beating pulse. “you’re just a whore, aren’t you? my stupid, pathetic little whore. mine to abuse and play with.” she tightens her grip. not enough to block off your air source, but enough for your head to start feeling hazy.

you do your best to nod your head, though it probably looked like you were just lolling it to her. “look at you. all dumb and fucked out just from a little fingering.” she pulled away, making you cry. “no—no, mommy-” you sounded so pretty, all broken, pleading and needy for her. “i know, i know. bunny needs mommy’s fingers, doesn’t she? always needs her pussy stuffed or else she’ll start crying.” you couldn’t even deny it, feeling hot, warm tears roll down your cheeks.

maeve lands a stinging slap to your puffy cunt, causing you to yelp before you feel her slide her fingers back in. your walls clamp down on her digits, almost as though silently pleading for her to not pull out again. her freehand, still on your neck, tightened its grip just a fraction more, her own breath hitching at the sight of your squirming in her hold. your head feels so fuzzy—unable to make out anything except for the sound of your arousal and her fucking in and out of you.

one hand lets go of the counter to grab a hold of her forearm, trying to signal to her that your head was starting to feel light, but even you knew you were in no rush for her to let go. so, she doesn’t. only doing so when she feels your body convulse, your orgasm riding out in shuddering waves. “there she is, there’s my bunny.” maeve coos, working you through your climax until you’re finally sated.

she loosens her hold on your neck and leans in, pressing a tender kiss to the curve of it as she whispers against your skin, “did so good for mommy.” you whimper softly into her ear, the sound making her shiver slightly as she trails kisses from your neck up to your jaw and cheek, each one serving as a quiet apology for her roughness.

“my girl. my sweet, perfect girl.” maeve muttered between kisses before finally placing one to your lips. soft, soothing, but nevertheless whole. “‘ll take care of dinner. you rest up, okay?” you nod your head, a slow smile curving at your lips when she tucks your hair behind your ear.

🐰 : i love my mommy i miss my mommy pls send more requests for mommy!maeve (i’m open to writinf fauxcest and dmlg too ,,👀) ／ i think im getting my spark back this only had like 100 words before i locked in today

[americanunaverage]

The Boys Smut Imagine- Asleep

Minors DNI! 18+ |The Boys Masterlist|

!Imagine (character) toying with you while you're asleep.

Butcher

He doesn’t take control immediately. He turns over towards you, fingers finding their way beneath the hem of your shirt. His hands cold, calloused, rubbing right beneath your breasts. He can’t help himself but to grab a handful and knead softly. He loves the way you respond- the way your hips move back, pressing firmly against his hard cock. “Yeah you like that don’t ya love?” He coos in your ear.

Soldier Boy

He knows just what you like and he’ll make sure to give it to you. You wake up already moaning, his mouth locked onto your clit, sucking hard. You grab a fistful of his hair which makes him jerk. He flattens his tongue, dragging it slow before shaking his head side to side, making your back arch off the bed. You barely get a second to catch your breath before he’s lining himself up and shoving into you, making you scream.

Hughie

With Hughie, I could see you making a move first. You turn toward him in your sleep, leg hooking over his, slowly dragging it higher. Your hand follows, palming him through his boxers. When he doesn’t move or make a noise, you turn back over. To your surprise, he turns towards you and presses firmly against your back. You can feel him on your ass. He doesn’t waste time and begins rubbing you over your panties, creating a little wet spot.

Frenchie

He likes to test you, slowly, to see how much he can do before you wake up. He’ll start by nipping at your neck, leaving soft kisses. He’ll trace his fingers along your stomach, lifting your shirt up. Then he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, watching for any reaction. If that doesn’t wake you up, he’ll start leaving playful short kisses everywhere until you do.

Homelander

He likes the thrill of you “being asleep” so you know better. You know to act like you’re asleep, even if that’s a lie. He’s the most gentle with you whilst you’re asleep, taking off his glove and tracing soft lines over your thighs. “I don’t want to lose you too” he says, grabbing your ass, squeezing repeatedly. He does a lot of talking to himself, but if he’s in a bad mood, he’ll be pretty aggressive, no talking, just balls deep inside of you, while you lay there pretending to sleep.

[americanunaverage]

The Boys Smut- Did I Hear That Right?

Minors DNI! 18+ |The Boys Masterlist|

!The Boys overhear you having sex with (Character).

Butcher

You two barely made it through the door. His lips were on yours instantly, nipping at your lower lip with that sharp hunger that always left you dizzy. Before you could even catch your breath, Butcher had you pinned against the bed, hands rough and greedy—tugging at clothes, gripping your hips, sliding up your thighs like he couldn’t get you bare fast enough.

The old bed creaked loudly beneath you as he slowly lowered himself into you, thick and unrelenting. You gasped sharply, mouth falling open in a perfect, silent O, eyes fluttering shut at the stretch. He eased in inch by inch, deliberate and deep, a low, guttural groan rumbling from his chest the whole way. No words. Just the wet, slick sound of him sinking into you, your shaky exhale, and the way your nails dug into his back as you braced yourself.

In the next room, the boys were trying—very, very hard—to pretend they weren’t hearing every single second of it.

Hughie’s face burned scarlet, eyes glued to the floor like it might split open and swallow him whole. MM rubbed his temples hard, jaw clenched tight, muttering under his breath about “goddamn animals.” Frenchie leaned back with a smirk, cigarette dangling from his lips, one eyebrow raised in quiet amusement. Kimiko tilted her head, watching the wall with calm, fascinated curiosity, like she was listening to a particularly interesting song.

Another loud, broken moan ripped from your throat—high and desperate—as Butcher hit that perfect spot deep inside you, making your toes curl tight. The bedframe slammed harder against the wall now, rhythmic and violent. His grunts turned rougher, deeper, almost animalistic snarls every time you clenched around him, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder.

“Christ,” MM finally hissed, voice low and strained. “They’re not even trying to be quiet.”

Frenchie exhaled a slow curl of smoke, soft laugh slipping out. “I do not think they remember we exist right now.”

Hughie made a strangled little noise and yanked his hoodie up over his head like that could possibly block out the sounds—your whimpers climbing higher, Butcher’s heavy, ragged breathing, the relentless creak and thud of the bed.

Back in the room, your legs were trembling violently around his waist, voice cracking into soft, needy whimpers as he fucked you through it, hips snapping with raw, primal force. His breathing was harsh and uneven against your neck, each thrust punctuated by a deep, guttural groan that vibrated through your chest.

One last, wrecked “fuck” tore from him—low and desperate—right as you shattered. Your high, trembling moan spilled out, raw and broken, mixing perfectly with his deep, satisfied growl as pleasure crashed through both of you. The bed finally stilled, the only sounds left being your shared, panting breaths.

Silence—blessed, mortifying silence—settled for half a second.

Then Frenchie’s voice drifted through the thin wall, dry as bone:

“…Well. At least someone’s having a good night.”

You buried your burning face in Butcher’s sweat-slick shoulder, half-laughing, half-mortified at how loud you’d been. He just chuckled darkly against your hair, the sound rough and smug, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Let ‘em listen, love,” he murmured, voice gravelly and low. “Let the whole fuckin’ world hear what you sound like when I ruin you.”

Soldier Boy

The team had only been back at the safehouse for twenty minutes when the noises started.

At first they figured Soldier Boy was just being his usual destructive self—pacing, throwing shit, whatever. But then the bedframe started slamming against the wall in a steady, filthy rhythm. Loud. Unmistakable.

Frenchie paused mid-pour. Hughie’s eyes widened. MM’s jaw tightened.

“What the hell is he doing now?” MM muttered, already heading toward the hallway.

Then it hit them: a sharp, breathy gasp—feminine, surprised, melting quickly into a soft, needy moan as the creaking intensified.

The room went dead quiet.

Hughie blinked hard. “Wait… there’s a girl in there with him?”

Another moan slipped through the thin walls, higher this time, raw and trembling. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder, faster, paired with deep, guttural grunts from Soldier Boy—low and arrogant, the kind that said he was enjoying every second of wrecking whoever was under him.

Frenchie’s eyebrows shot up. “He brought someone back? Without telling us?”

Kimiko tilted her head, listening with quiet curiosity as your voice cracked into a desperate whimper, the bed thudding harder.

MM stopped outside the door, hand raised like he was about to knock and tell the asshole to keep it down—until another broken moan rang out, clearer this time.

That voice.

MM froze.

Hughie’s face went pale. “That… that sounded like—”

Your moan cut him off, loud and shattered, as Soldier Boy hit that spot that made your toes curl and your back arch. The rhythm turned brutal—bedframe cracking against the wall, your high, needy cries mixing with his rough, animalistic groans. No words. Just pure filth: the slick, wet sounds of him pounding into you, your legs shaking, voice climbing higher and more desperate with every thrust.

Frenchie’s cigarette nearly dropped from his lips. “Non… no way. That’s not—”

But it was. The next moan was unmistakable—your voice, raw and trembling, cracking beautifully as you tried and failed to stay quiet.

Hughie looked like he was about to be sick. “Oh my god. That’s… that’s her.

MM’s hand dropped to his side, eyes wide with pure shock. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The pace inside grew frantic. Your whimpers turned into frantic little sobs of pleasure, body jolting with every deep, punishing snap of Soldier Boy’s hips. His grunts got louder, rougher—almost snarls—cocky and satisfied as he fucked you , the headboard slamming like it might break.

Your voice broke on a long, high, trembling cry as you came hard, legs shaking violently around him. Soldier Boy followed with a deep groan, hips stuttering once, twice, before the bed finally went still.

Heavy, ragged breathing filled the sudden silence.

The boys stood frozen in the hallway, stunned into complete silence.

Frenchie was the first to speak, voice hushed and disbelieving. “Putain… it’s really her. With him.”

Hughie pulled his hoodie up over his head like it could erase the last five minutes. “I’m never going to be able to look at her again. Or him. Or… anyone.”

MM just stared at the door, rubbing his temples hard, muttering, “Of all the people… Soldier Boy? What the fuck is she thinking?”

Kimiko’s lips twitched with quiet amusement, shrugging one shoulder as if to say surprise.

Inside the room, you were still catching your breath, face buried against Soldier Boy’s sweat-slick chest, a soft embarrassed laugh bubbling up. He smirked down at you, one big hand lazily stroking your spine, voice low and smug.

“Sounds like the peanut gallery finally figured it out, sweetheart.”

Hughie

You and Hughie had waited until the safehouse felt dead quiet.

The team was supposed to be out for hours, so the second the door clicked shut behind the last person, Hughie had pulled you into his room with that shy, eager grin. Clothes came off fast—his hands a little clumsy with nerves, your laughter soft against his mouth as you tumbled onto the bed together.

He eased into you slowly, careful like always, and the old mattress creaked under you both. You let out a quiet gasp, mouth falling open, fingers digging gently into his shoulders. Hughie answered with a low, shaky groan, burying his face in your neck as he started to move.

No talking. Just soft, breathy sounds—your little moans growing sweeter and higher every time he rolled his hips, his own quiet, desperate grunts mixing with the rhythmic creak of the bed. It felt safe. Private. You didn’t hold back, letting yourself get louder as pleasure built, your voice turning into needy whimpers that made Hughie’s breathing hitch.

The bedframe started knocking gently against the wall. Then harder.

You were both so lost in it—your legs wrapped around his waist, his thrusts getting a little faster, a little deeper—that neither of you heard the front door open.

In the living room, the team had just walked in.

Frenchie stopped mid-step, eyebrows shooting up. MM’s expression shifted from tired to confused. Kimiko tilted her head. Butcher leaned against the wall with a slow, shit-eating grin.

Then your moan floated down the hallway—soft at first, then louder, higher, cracking beautifully as Hughie hit that spot that made your toes curl. The bed was really creaking now, steady and unmistakable, paired with Hughie’s low, embarrassed little grunts that somehow still sounded desperate.

Hughie froze for half a second when he heard voices, but you clenched around him and he couldn’t stop—his hips stuttered, a choked groan slipping out as he kept going, both of you too far gone to quiet down.

“Oh fuck…” Hughie whispered against your skin, mortified, but his body betrayed him with another deep thrust that pulled a high, trembling whimper from your throat.

In the living room, the silence was deafening.

Frenchie’s smirk grew. “Well, well. Little Hughie is not so little after all.”

MM rubbed his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ. They thought we were gone.”

Butcher chuckled darkly, voice carrying just enough. “Sounds like the kid’s finally getting some. About time.”

Your moan peaked—loud, broken, and completely unaware—right as Hughie’s rhythm turned frantic and uneven. His quiet, ragged groans mixed with your shaky cries until you both fell apart together: your high, trembling voice and his deeper, embarrassed moan echoing through the thin walls as the bed finally stilled.

The sudden silence was brutal.

You buried your burning face in Hughie’s chest, whispering a horrified “Oh my god…” while he looked ready to die on the spot, cheeks flaming red.

From the living room came Frenchie’s amused voice, loud and clear:

“Don’t stop on our account, mes amis! We can wait!”

Hughie groaned again—this time purely from embarrassment—and pulled the pillow over both your heads like it could hide you from the entire team.

You could still hear Butcher’s low laugh and MM muttering something about “kids these days” as your heart hammered with pure mortification.

Hughie peeked out from under the pillow, voice small and mortified. “…We are never living this down.”

Frenchie

The safehouse was supposed to be empty tonight — just you and Frenchie. The rest of the team had left for a lead that would supposedly keep them gone until morning. So when Frenchie pulled you into the dimly lit living room instead of his bedroom, you didn’t argue.

He had you bent over the back of the old couch before you could even catch your breath, skirt shoved up around your waist, his jeans barely pushed down his thighs. No slow buildup this time. He slid into you in one smooth thrust, deep and confident, pulling a surprised, breathy moan from your throat.

The couch creaked loudly under the force of that first thrust. You gripped the cushions tight, mouth falling open in a silent cry as he started moving — steady, rolling hips that quickly turned hungry. Soft, needy sounds spilled out of you with every push: little gasps turning into higher, trembling moans that you couldn’t hold back. Frenchie answered with low, raspy groans, the occasional whispered French curse slipping out like a prayer.

No real talking. Just the wet, filthy slap of skin, the rhythmic creak of the couch, and the way your voice kept climbing — broken and desperate every time he angled his hips just right and hit that spot that made your knees weak.

You were so lost in it that neither of you heard the van pull up outside.

The front door opened quietly. The team stepped in, expecting silence… and walked straight into the soundtrack of Frenchie fucking you over the couch.

Your moan rang out — high, raw, and unmistakable — right as he drove in harder. The couch was really moving now, scraping against the floor with every thrust. Frenchie’s breathing had turned rough and primal, deep grunts mixing with your whimpering cries, the wet sounds echoing obscenely in the open room.

Frenchie froze mid-thrust when he heard the footsteps, but his body betrayed him — hips giving one last involuntary roll that pulled a loud, shattered whimper from you.

Butcher stopped dead in the doorway, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, fuck. Didn’t expect a live show in the living room.”

MM turned his head away fast, muttering, “Jesus Christ, Frenchie…”

Hughie looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. “Oh god… that’s… they’re right there.”

Kimiko tilted her head, a small amused smile tugging at her lips as another desperate moan escaped you — your voice cracking beautifully as Frenchie couldn’t stop himself from giving one more deep thrust.

Frenchie’s face burned, but he stayed buried inside you, one hand still gripping your hip. He let out a breathless, embarrassed laugh against your back.

“Mon dieu… we thought you were gone until morning,” he called out, voice hoarse and thick with accent, trying to sound casual even while he was still pulsing inside you.

Your cheeks were on fire. You hid your face in the couch cushion, mortified, body still trembling around him.

Butcher chuckled low and dirty. “Clearly. Carry on, then. Don’t let us interrupt the romance.”

Frenchie groaned — half embarrassment, half lingering pleasure — and pressed his forehead to your shoulder. He whispered softly against your skin, only for you to hear, “I should have taken you to the roof, chérie…”

The team started awkwardly dispersing toward the kitchen, muttering and laughing under their breath, while you stayed bent over the couch, heart racing, Frenchie still buried deep and trying and failing to stay still.

The embarrassment was overwhelming… but the way he twitched inside you told you he wasn’t entirely sorry.

Homelander

The boys were out chasing another lead, leaving the safehouse quiet for once.

You knew you were making a terrible mistake. You were supposed to be helping them take him down — feeding them intel, staying on the inside. But somewhere along the way the lines had blurred completely. One secret meeting turned into stolen nights, and now here you were: heart racing as “John” slipped through the back door in civilian clothes, no cape, no suit, just that dangerously soft smile that made your stomach flip.

He didn’t waste time. The second the bedroom door clicked shut behind you both, his hands were on you — surprisingly gentle at first, then hungry. He had you on the bed in seconds, clothes pushed aside just enough. When he finally pushed inside you, slow and deep, your head fell back with a shaky gasp, mouth forming a perfect O.

No loud talking. Just breathy, intimate sounds.

Your soft moans filled the small room as he moved — deep, rolling thrusts that made the bed creak steadily beneath you. He groaned low in his throat, the sound almost vulnerable, every time you clenched around him. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around his waist as the rhythm slowly built.

You were so lost in him — in the way he felt, in the way he whispered your name like a secret — that neither of you noticed the front door opening.

The team had come back early.

They stepped inside quietly, expecting an empty safehouse… until your voice drifted down the hallway.

A soft, needy moan. Then another, higher, trembling.

MM froze. Hughie’s eyes went wide. Frenchie tilted his head, cigarette halfway to his lips. Butcher’s expression darkened instantly.

Then it came — clear, unmistakable, wrapped in a broken whimper:

“John…”

The entire room went ice-cold.

Butcher’s jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. “Did she just—?”

Another moan from you, louder this time, cracking beautifully as Homelander hit that perfect spot deep inside. The bedframe started slamming harder against the wall, the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin growing filthier. Your voice kept slipping out — soft cries turning desperate, repeating that name like a prayer:

“John… John—”

Homelander answered with a low, possessive growl, hips snapping faster, the sounds turning primal and urgent. Just raw need as he fucked you deeper, your moans climbing higher and more wrecked with every thrust.

Frenchie exhaled slowly, voice hushed. “Putain… she’s with him. She called him John.”

Hughie looked sick. “She’s supposed to be helping us… and she’s — oh god.”

MM rubbed his face, voice tight with betrayal. “We trusted her.”

Butcher’s eyes were murderous, but he didn’t move — just stood there listening as your high, trembling moan peaked, voice breaking on “John” one last time as you came hard around him. Homelander followed with a deep, satisfied groan, hips stuttering before the bed finally went still.

Silence crashed down.

Then Butcher’s voice cut through the wall, low and dangerous:

“Well, well. Looks like our little mole’s been playing both sides… and enjoying it.”

Inside the bedroom you froze, face buried in Homelander’s neck, horror flooding through you as reality slammed back in. He just smirked against your hair, voice soft and smug, barely above a whisper:

“They heard you moan my name, darling. My real name.”

Your heart hammered with panic and lingering pleasure. The boys were right outside — and they knew everything now.

I'm thinking of expanding the homelander story. She sees him behind their backs vibes.

Update 4/8/26 - Story has been posted (No More Secrets)

[murdrdocs]

need to nasty fuck frenchie. like shit where you're both sweaty, the adrenaline rushing through his body is natural, but it feels artificial for both of you.

he can feel it surging down through him, creating lightning in his fingertips. and you're there with him, albeit a little more exhausted than him. your head hanging down, but not for long as frenchie wraps his hand around your hair, pulling your head back. you can hear the grit in his teeth when he speaks, a command in french pushed through clenched teeth. in the reflection of the window in front of you, you can barely see his face, but it's enough of a sight to notice the sweat coating his face, and the way it shines along his neck, bringing even more attention to the pronounced vein in his neck.

"are you tired, bichette?" his other hand digs into your waist, rough fingertips pressed into your skin. you don't even have to consider the possibility of it bruising come morning, you already know it will.

you shake your head, eyebrows pinched shut and your eyes squinted as you focus on the feeling of yet another orgasm brewing. frenchie laughs from behind you, his chest resting on your shoulder, his hips refusing to stall their pace even for a second. you start to consider the possibility that his adrenaline is artificial.

"non?" he echos you, "then you can do another, right?"

it's not like you have much choice. when you're this far gone, if you gave up now you would feel off for the rest of the day. the only logical solution is to let frenchie fuck you until neither of you could take it anymore.

[xenaxena]

Free use! reader x butcher ?

FREE USE WITH BILLY BUTCHER starts off slow. It’s probably your idea, cause you just want him to feel good all the time. Whether he has the energy to ask for it or not. He’ll come home to you tired; you’re in bed, almost asleep, and he just slips in from behind.

“Fuckin’ soaked!”

“Always for you, Butcher.”

He thrusts hard, deep, until he comes inside you. He leaves himself inserted and you both fall asleep.

The next morning, he’ll catch you making breakfast in nothing but his shirt from the other night, and he just slips in. You moan, truly not expecting it. Though, you really should start expecting it. This was your life now.

“Morning.”

He shushes you, “No talking, just fucking.”

You nod. He plays with your clit til you’re biting your lip and you come. He comes immediately after you. He pulls out and smiles when he sees the come start dripping down your inner thighs. He slaps your ass then takes a seat at the dinner table.

It slowly gets more and more intense.

You’ll be watching TV, just snuggling on the couch, almost asleep. And, out of the blue, he’ll pull his dick out, bring you into his lap (your back facing him, so you can still watch TV. He’s considerate like that.) and enters you quickly. You moan as your warm cunt flutters around him. Every time he enters you, you’re reminded how fucking huge he is. It’s somehow a surprise every time.

He plays with your clit; pinching it, twisting it, flicking it, til he’s got you coming. One orgasm after another. He’s holding back though. He wants you cock warming him, he wants you stretched for as long as he can stand.

And he lasts a long fucking time. You lose track of time, you’re so come drunk, cock dumb. You’re mumbling incoherently; saying you’re sensitive, you can’t take another orgasm, he’s too big, you’re too stretched.

He ignores you. And just when you think he’s winding down, he thrusts into you violently til he comes. Letting out a guttural moan.

“You’re so fucking good to me, love.”

“I’m all yours. As long as you want to use me, as much as you want me. Whenever, wherever.” You’ve given him the spiel before, but you love how he moans when you remind him.

He loves you, and you both know it. You love him more than anything, and you love pleasuring him.

[reginaphalangelobster]

there’s soooo much hurt comfort potential with that thought you sent me… butcher thinking you’re lying, that you’re being disingenuous. he’s guarding his heart, won’t let anyone else near it, not since becca. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been falling harder and harder for him every day since you’ve met. maybe he gets really hurt one day and instead of showing your “true colors” (or at least what he thinks is your true colors), you dote on him. you’re taking care of him until his better instead of abandoning him when he’s no longer useful. then u kiss MUAH

Omg yes and he's just waiting for you to take one look at him when Hughie and MM help carry him back and just- bolt. He's broken, he can't do anything for you and he's not worth the wait and effort it'd take for him to get better.

But, you stay.

Actually, you rush to his side the second they bring him back, eyes red, irritated, throat sore.

You barely leave his side, you don't for hours. When he finally closes his eyes to drift off, you wait until it seems like he's asleep and you collapse. You press your face against his chest, sobs syncing up to his heartbeat.

He's still awake, but frozen solid. He doesn't understand why you care about him so much, he's just, him.

He doesn't mention it, ever, but he remembers.

By morning, you're tucked against his side, holding onto him for dear life.

You spent the next few weeks cooking the best food he's ever eating, changing his bandages with such gentle care and sitting with him every moment you have free.

He hates being pampered, he doesn't deserve it, but he craves your affection. When you scoot up behind him on the bed, rest his head on your chest or in your lap and card your fingers through his hair he knows he's in Heaven.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Explicit/16+ - biting, blood kink, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, you're feral and Butcher loves it

You spilled a little water on the floor while doing the dishes. A simple, normal thing. Somehow Butcher even made that dirty.

You grabbed some paper towels when the water splashed back at you while scrubbing a particularly stubborn frying pan, getting down on your knees to mop it all up.

By the time you were finished, you turned around to see Butcher standing over you, arms crossed, smirk ever present.

You froze. He was making some smart-ass comment about you looking good from that angle, but all you could think was the same, about him.

Your eyes zeroed in on his arms, more precisely, the veins running over the muscle. Without thought, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard enough you almost bled.

"Y'alright, luv?" His voice pulled you back to the world "What, y'need somethin' t' bite onta'?"

You nodded, hands reaching out before you could stop yourself. Your palms hooked under the backs of his knees, knocking him down onto the floor with a thud.

"Oi! What the fuck was tha' for?!"

You didn't answer, moving on top of him in a second, teeth sinking down into his forearm, sucking and biting your ownership all over him.

He just stared, the pain stinging deliciously before he chuckled, his other arm against the floor, holding himself up.

"Y're just a feral lil thing, ain't 'cha?"

You nodded again, this time with your mouth over his skin.

He smirked, pleased with himself, and you of course.

Just as he opened his mouth to make another snide remark, you threw one of your legs over his, positioning yourself over him, grinding down without thinking.

You dragged your hips up and down his leg slowly at first, relieving the aching tension, before you got really desperate, rutting against him.

Your hand clambered to his pants, palming the considerable bulge in them.

His hand fisted in your hair, pressing you down harder, a metallic taste dancing over your tongue. Almost any other time, you would've checked to make sure he was okay, stopped yourself, something, but now? You couldn't care less, and neither could he.

You worked him up fast, the pain and pleasure mixing inside, hips bucking up to chase his high.

Somehow, you came in perfect time together, a wet mess spreading over both of you.

You kept going though, slower, edging both yourself and Butcher into blissful overstimulation, twitching pathetically.

"Fuck, luv" He let his head fall back against the tiles, breath coming in heavy "Makin' me feel like a damned teenager, cumming in m' pants an' all"

You finally pulled off, jaw starting to ache as you slid up, head resting against his shoulder.

"Mhm" You muttered hazily, licking your lips, teeth attaching to his neck now, lazy, comfortable.

"M' dumb little bunny" He hummed, arm wrapped around you, eyes flicking to the little dribbles of red as you spread it over his neck too, lips stained in him.