26 | Okay so here's a place for my writing things and everything plus the more-than-occasional gifset and aesthetic reblog. •hiatus• bc life got stressful. still queuing stuff tho bc I need something to help me sleep
Felt it was time to make a mobile-friendly masterlist! Let me know how I can make it better! All of these (and more!) can also be found on my Ao3.
A Day in the Life (Frank Castle x Reader)
A glimpse into your domestic life with Frank and your daughter Annie.
Bar Fight (Frank Castle x Reader)
Some creep at a bar gropes you. You use the moves Frank taught you to try to kick his ass. But you didn’t expect him to have a knife.
Candlelit Dinners and Blanket Forts (Matt Murdock x Reader)
“Hey there! I saw you’re taking marvel requests! Can I request a super fluffy and domestic kind of life with Matt Murdock x female reader?”
Catch the Wind (Matt Murdock x Reader)
You like Matt. You’re pretty sure he likes you too. Then why does he say no when you ask? What is he hiding and why won’t Foggy tell you?
Defending Matt (Matt Murdock x Reader ft. Jessica Jones)
You defend Matt’s lifestyle as Daredevil to Karen and Foggy. You also call in a favor from Jessica Jones.
Into You (Jessica Jones x Reader)
After the police practically dismiss your concerns of stalker, you turn to Alias Investigations for help.
In the Snow (Jack Thompson x Reader)
Your first snow day with Jack Thompson.
Jealous (Matt Murdock x Reader)
“do you think you can do Matt Murdock x Reader and like for a prompt maybe like the reader is like slightly jealous but doesn’t voice any of her concerns out but like it isnt super troubling. idk really”
Resurrection (Matt Murdock x Reader)
Matt is dead. Until he isn’t.
Rooftop Confessions (Matt Murdock x Reader)
You like Matt. You have for a long time. After getting maybe a little bit too drunk, you end up confessing your feelings for him to Daredevil. Who also happens to be Matt.
Street Kid (platonic! Frank Castle x Reader)
“hi :) can you do a platonic frank castle imagine where he is in a fight and looses alot of blood and end up passing out in an alley but a street kid (16/17 yo female) stitches him up and saves him and later he runs into him and they develop a father-daughter relationship? thank you so much!”
Whatever You Say (Matt Murdock x Reader)
You find an abandoned kitten on the sidewalk and bring him to Matt’s office with you. Matt maybe gets a little jealous of the cat’s sleeping spot underneath your shirt.
I had a cute idea with Supernatural. Maybe slightly early seasons Castiel, who doesn't understand his feelings for Reader, and he sees Dean popping her back after a hunt or something. Cas hears the pops and freaks out a little like 'oh my god you just broke her back' kinda thing? Idk i think its funny 🤣
Ahhhh! I loved this idea and I loved writing it! Hope you love it as much as I did writing it :)))
✦
Crack Me Open
Castiel’s still learning the rules of human weirdness — and one unexpected crack might just break his calm for good.
Pairing: Castiel x reader
*Descriptions of back cracking, fluff, overprotective!Castiel, and early seasons!Castiel
Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @scary-noodlesblog
Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist
The motel room reeked of antiseptic, old leather, and whatever deep-fried monstrosity the diner next door had incinerated into oblivion. The wallpaper peeled in corners like it was trying to escape, the ancient AC unit rattled like it had bronchitis, and a suspicious stain shaped like Florida adorned the carpet. Another day, another salt-and-burn, another near-death experience in a room with cigarette burns on the nightstand.
You sat hunched on the edge of the bed, back stiff and throbbing, grimacing with every twitch of your shoulder. Your hoodie was smeared with soot and ghost guts. You’d gone flying mid-hunt—some angry, restless bastard of a spirit had decided you looked like a particularly throwable rag doll. Now your spine felt like a slinky someone had twisted too many times.
Dean hovered nearby like a mechanic eyeing a busted engine. His sleeves were rolled, his hands flexing like he was about to break out the power tools.
“Alright, come on,” he said, squatting behind you and cracking his knuckles with the enthusiasm of a man who’d done this before and probably regretted it afterward. “Just like Bobby used to do it. Hands on the shoulders, deep breath, then—crack! You’ll be singing show tunes by breakfast.”
You gave him a flat look over your shoulder. “Dean, I trust you with a shotgun. I trust you behind the wheel. Hell, I even trust you with my favorite playlist. But my spine?”
Dean smirked, already maneuvering your arms into position like you were some stubborn action figure. “You’ll live. Probably.”
“Comforting.”
Across the room, Castiel stood statue-still by the scratched-up motel table. He looked wildly out of place in this setting—like someone had dropped a Byzantine cathedral into a truck stop. His trench coat was immaculate as always, somehow untouched by blood or dust, and his eyes tracked every motion with unsettling intensity. His hands were folded in front of him like he was waiting to officiate a funeral.
You glanced up at him, catching his gaze. “Hey, Cas,” you said, grinning crookedly despite the ache in your neck. “You ever cracked a human before?”
He blinked. “Cracked…?”
“Like, a back. Alignment. Pop goes the vertebrae.”
He frowned. “No.”
“Well, now you’ll get to see it firsthand,” Dean announced behind you. “Hold on tight, sweetheart. Time to get fixed the old-fashioned way.”
You groaned. “God help me.”
Dean chuckled. “One. Two—”
CRACK. POP. POP-POP.
The sound that followed was part orchestra, part demolition site, and entirely horrifying. Your entire spine lit up like fireworks, a sharp symphony of relief and shock that had you exhaling in something like religious ecstasy.
“Oh my God,” you moaned, slumping forward. “I think I saw Heaven.”
And then—like some divine curse descending from above—
“DEAN.”
Castiel’s voice was not human. It was thunder and earthquake, fury dressed in gravel. You flinched instinctively as his wings—not visible, but somehow felt—seemed to unfurl in the space between heartbeats.
He crossed the room in two steps. Two. Trench coat flaring, eyes wild with alarm, the kind of chaos that made old gods tremble.
Dean leapt back like Cas had just whipped out an angel blade. “Whoa, whoa—Cas?!”
“You broke her,” Castiel snapped, falling to his knees at your side as if you were the broken body of Christ himself. “I heard it. Her spine—it snapped.”
“Wait, what?” you croaked, looking between the angel and the hunter.
“It was an adjustment!” Dean protested. “She’s fine!”
“She made the sound of pain.”
“I also said I saw Heaven,” you said weakly, raising a hand like a student hoping not to be called on.
Castiel’s head whipped toward you. “You saw Heaven?”
Dean groaned. “Not literally! It’s a saying, Cas.”
Cas ignored him, focusing solely on you with eyes full of tragedy. “You should not see Heaven. Not yet.”
“I’m not dead, Cas.”
“You made the noise,” he insisted again, a little more mournfully now.
There was a beat of silence. The ice machine groaned outside, spitting out half-frozen cubes like a dying animal. Dean looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh but was also worried about spontaneous combustion. Cas hovered near your side, arms twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to hold you or perform a resurrection ritual.
You gently reached out and wrapped your fingers around his, grounding him.
“Hey,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I’m okay. Really. That’s just what backs do sometimes. They pop. It’s a good thing.”
He stared down at your hand in his like it was a delicate relic, ancient and sacred. When he finally met your gaze, his brows were tight with worry, and something deep and raw flickered behind his eyes.
“…You are truly unharmed?” he asked, voice rough with emotion he barely understood.
You nodded. “Yeah. Better now, actually.”
He didn’t let go of your hand. Just stared at you, as if reassuring himself you were still breathing.
Dean took that as his cue to evacuate. “Alright,” he muttered, already edging toward the door, “I’m gonna go grab a six-pack and not be here for whatever the hell this is.”
The door slammed behind him.
Silence returned, warm and a little buzzing with leftover adrenaline.
You looked at Cas, whose hand was still wrapped around yours like a lifeline. “You really thought Dean broke my back?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “The noise was deeply alarming. It reminded me of the time I witnessed demons tear a man’s vertebrae apart during an exorcism. The sounds were… similar.”
You stared. Then laughed—loud and wheezy. “Oh my God. Okay, yeah, when you put it that way…”
Cas frowned. “Why would you allow such a thing?”
You shrugged—winced—and then grinned. “Because it helps. Sometimes humans just need a little help putting themselves back together.”
He watched you like you were a miracle he didn’t quite know how to pray to.
Then, quietly: “May I learn?”
Your smile faltered. “Wait… what?”
“This practice. The cracking. If it alleviates your pain, I wish to understand it. So I may assist next time.”
You blinked. Your heart did something strange and fluttery, like a moth waking up inside your ribcage.
“You want to learn how to… adjust my back?”
“I want to learn how to help you feel better. In every way I am able.”
You stared at him, lips twitching upward in an expression you couldn’t hold back even if you wanted to.
“That’s… actually kind of sweet, Cas.”
He tilted his head, blue eyes studying your face like a map of something important. “It’s not sweetness,” he said. “It’s… devotion. I feel it stir whenever you are hurt. My grace reacts. I want to fix you. Protect you. Hear your laughter. Not… the sounds of your spine being manipulated.”
You laughed again, breathless. “Cas, you’re adorable when you’re panicking.”
You decided to lighten the mood — and, admittedly, to have a little fun with the angel’s adorably rigid demeanor.
“So,” you said, voice casual and laced with mischief, “you think Dean breaking my back was scary? Watch this.”
Before Castiel could respond, you lifted your chin and slowly tilted your head to the side, exaggerating the movement with an almost theatrical stretch.
Then — POP.
The sharp, unmistakable crack of your neck slicing through the quiet motel room was loud enough to make even you wince a little.
Castiel’s head jerked up instantly, eyes wide as saucers, fixed on you with a mixture of horror and disbelief.
“You… you cracked your neck,” he whispered, voice trembling like you’d just set a small fire in the room.
You tried — and failed — to keep a straight face. “Yeah, Cas. You know, like humans do. It’s… normal.”
His lips parted slightly, searching for words, but none came. Instead, his gaze dropped to his folded hands as if willing himself not to faint.
You chuckled softly, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. “I’m kidding. But seriously, it helps. And it’s not dangerous. Promise.”
He blinked rapidly, still looking as if he’d just seen a ghost—or worse, a demon with a cracked spine.
“Why would you do that intentionally?” he asked, voice still tight.
You shrugged, grinning wider now. “Sometimes, you’ve gotta freak out your angel. Besides…” you gave a dramatic sigh and rolled your neck back the other way, producing another crisp pop, “it feels so good.”
Castiel flinched again, eyes darting between your neck and your face like you’d become some kind of mysterious creature who enjoyed self-inflicted injury.
“You humans are very strange,” he muttered, finally sinking back onto the bed, but his fingers still twitched in mild distress.
You laughed warmly, loving how earnest and vulnerable he could be. “Yeah, but that’s why you stick around, right? To keep me in line when I’m being ridiculous.”
His blue eyes met yours, soft and steady now, like the quiet anchor you hadn’t known you needed.
“I will do my best,” he said quietly, voice steady but with an unmistakable tenderness. “Even if it means enduring strange… cracking noises.”
Frank with his little DIY furniture flipping home improvement girlfriend. She is stressing this man constantly, he turns around for two seconds and she’s sitting in the living room with power tools telling him she gonna up cycle the coffee table she got off the street corner. Like can you imagine trying to casually ask Frank if he has an electric sander and if you can casually use it. The paint fumes alone are going to give him a stroke
(this is me with my husband except he worries less but he also knows my projects become his problems lol)
God I can just imagine him rushing to open every window in the apartment just shouting "air flow sweetheart! air flow!" and wafting his arms in big motions when you're varnishing an old stool with no mask on and no fan lolol.
If you said "Where's the drill Frank?" he would look at you dead-eyed for like a whole minute and then shake his head and point at the couch saying "Sit your ass down doll," as he walks away and mumbles to himself "Askin' me 'bout the damn drill, gonna lose a finger or some shit"
He'd begrudgingly come back with it and you'd hop up from the couch and hold out your hand, saying "perfect! thank you!" and Frank is whipping his hand back like "whoa whoa whoa easy Tiger"
You knew it couldn't have been that easy.
"You'll tell me what you need and I'll do it, understand?" he's saying in no uncertain terms except that you were displeased with this arrangement.
"Frank I'm a grown woman, hand over the drill," you assert. Frank's would eyebrows shoot up his forehead.
"Beg your pardon sweetheart?" he'd ask with a scoff, "this ain't a negotiation."
"How do you think I survived before I met you Frank? I did stuff myself," you'd explain like a rational human.
"Yeah and now I'm here doll. See how that works?" he'd reply as he's already getting to one knee in front of the coffee table and lining up the drill to the screw.
"Fine, I need the saw anyway," you'd reply as you turn with a smirk and head toward the garage. You'd hear Frank barking as the door closed behind you.
Go to nicknames at “darlin’”, “doll” and “sweetheart”. But I’m inclined to think that he’d also use “sunshine”. Especially if his you are a bit more on the bubbly side.
Touch starved (please hug him). He’ll deny he is and find excuses to touch you anyway “There was a leaf in your hair, darlin’. Was just getting it out.” (Continues to stroke your hair for a bit longer)
Definitely have nightmares. Some nights he doesn’t, other nights it gets to a point he can’t sleep. Logan would hate burdening you with these but you know. You wake up when he does too. “Go back to sleep, doll.” He’ll grumble. You recognise when he wants you to go after him and hold him close and when he needs some time alone.
His adamantium bones means he feels the cold very easily. In the winter, he’ll bundle himself up beyond normal means. But on cool spring or autumn nights, he’ll always throw his leather jacket over your shoulders so you stay warm.
Heightened senses means mainly of smell and hearing. Will have a grumble if you end up changing any perfumes/colognes you wear “It doesn’t smell like you, darlin’.”
Logan is a listener. He will and does talk to you of course, but he’d prefer to hear you. Your day, your latest obsession, opinions, anything. He loves your voice and loves to listen to you (also includes listening to you scream his name).
One time, a short while into you two dating, he’d gone into your room and found a bottle of his favourite whiskey. You explained you kept it for him specifically in case he ever ran out and the shops were closed and his heart just melted. It didn’t take long to drink it of course. But instead of throwing it out, he got it turned into a lamp that he keeps by his bedside. A reminder of you and how you bring light to his world.
I’ve really needed to get back into writing smut after this angst kick I've been on. And of course it had to be poly141 because I cannot stop. This was also supposed to be short but I keep getting carried away.
WC: 2.7k
CW: +18 content MDNI. Exhibitionism, oral (F receiving), PiV sex, light dom/sub dynamics, slight overstimulation, light restraining, cum play?? No angst I promise, aftercare.
I am willing to die happily on the poly141 hill 🫡
Enjoy ya fility animals <3
____
They’ve only been back a week, everything felt so right. No matter what you were doing it felt right, and tonight was no exception. You’d ordered food and Johnny picked a film, you’re happily laid against Simon’s chest, his strong arm resting over you as his other hand runs through Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny tips his head forward every now and then forcing Simon to scratch the back of his head.
You look over to the other sofa in the room John is laid flat with Kyle on top of him, his head on John’s chest. Kyle looks over, meeting your eyes and smiles at you, you smile back.
“Christ, I'm not sayin’ it doesn’t happen like that but this has to be the worst military drama I have ever seen.” Johnny says from his spot on the floor, he huffs crossing his arms.
“You chose it,” Simon says, pulling gently on his hair.
“Yeah well, I thought it’d be more realistic.”
“You’re telling me you’re not jumping between helicopters in flight, or shooting rockets at buildings?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and looking round the room. John chuckles.
“Sometimes we shoot rockets at buildings.” Johnny says, Simon scoffs shuffling his body so you're more laid against him as Johnny reaches over to pick the remote up.
“I fell out a chopper once.” Kyle says, you look over at him gasping.
“How-wait-how have you never mentioned this before?” Kyle chuckles and starts telling the story with John adding anecdotes now and then. You’re listening so intently as he explains being thrown out a helicopter that you almost miss the fact Simon’s hand has slipped up your top.
His calloused fingers brush over your nipples as you start to lose track of Kyle’s story. Simon presses his face into your neck, his tongue running up as he kisses you. His other hand has come off of Johnny’s head and is now working its way up to your other breast.
You feel heat rush to your cheeks as Kyle and John catch on to what Simon’s doing. The only person who seems to be oblivious is Johnny, still mumbling and flicking through the movies list. You let out a shaky breath as he hikes your top up exposing you for John and Kyle to see. The few seconds of embarrassment fades, his giant hands cupping both your breasts and running his thumbs over your hard nipples.
Kyle’s all but given up recounting the story, his body shifting against John’s leg. He swallows wetting his lips as one of Simon’s hands moves down into your shorts. As soon as his fingers make contact with your clit you let out a soft moan. That gets Johnny’s attention he stops flicking through the films turning to see Simon with one hand down your pants and the other squeezing your nipple.
He turns on his knees instantly almost before you have time to say anything his hand comes up to your free breast.
“Na ah, hands off Johnny. You had all the fun last night.” Simon says in that voice that sends chills up your spine. His fingers haven’t stopped pressing on your clit, running tight circles as he breathes down your neck. “Gaz, come make our girl feel good”
Kyle doesn’t have to be told twice, almost jumping off the couch over to you. Johnny whines as his hand leaves your breast. In the time it takes Kyle to get over to you Simon has helped you shimmy your shorts and underwear off. You spread your legs for him, Johnny is looking over your leg like a puppy who’s been told to sit and wait.
“Lucky.” Johnny tuts as Kyle bends down between your legs.
“Keep complaining, you won’t get anything.” Simon says as his lips go back to your neck. Kyle’s pressing kisses up the inside of your thigh, taking his time, almost too much. You tip your head back as soon as Kyle’s tongue presses between your folds dragging all the way up to your clit. You moan out reaching down to his head but Simon grabs your wrists pulling your arms against your shoulders.
Now you whine squirming under his grip, Kyle's fingers dig into your hips, keeping you in place.
“C’mon then Johnny make yourself useful.” Simon nods at your exposed breasts. Johnny’s mouth is locked round one of your nipples before Simon’s even finished talking, his hand going to play with the other. He’s gentler than Simon but right now he’s playing with you like it’s the first time he’s touched you in days.
Simon’s mouth comes off your neck. “Like what you see sir?” He says nipping at your earlobe. You tip your head forward looking over at John, he’s still laid back on the sofa one arm behind his head, palming himself over his sweatpants. He smiles, you look down at Kyle’s head buried between your legs. His tongue is rough pressing and rubbing on your clit, each suck on your nipple from Johnny sends waves of pleasure between your legs.
“Kyle-” You squirm against Simon who keeps you in place, your breathing picks up as he pushes you closer to the edge. Simon hums in your neck, presses kisses across your shoulder blade.
“He making you feel good?” Simon grumbles in your ear.
“Yes.” You breathe as your thighs squeeze Kyle's head. You arch your back as you cum. Kyle’s hands hold your hips down as he rides you through the orgasm. You loosen your grip around his head. Johnny hasn’t let go of your nipples which is now making your body twitch with overstimulation.
“Johnny.” You call, Simon still has a grip on your wrists. Kyle reaches over pushing Johnny off you causing you to groan at the lack of contact. You’re still panting in Simon’s chest, he lets your hands go and turns on the sofa. You lean forward before he stops you pulling you back up against him. You can feel his cock pressing into your back.
“Agh, let me have a turn please.” Johnny begs pushing past Kyle to come between your legs. “She’s beggin’ for it.” He runs his hands up your thighs. You smile down at him looking over at John whose hand is shoved down his front now.
“What do you think love?” Simon asks you, pulling you back to look down at Johnny looking up at you with his wide blue eyes. You hum smiling at him. That seems to be all the permission Johnny needs before jumping to his feet and pulling his clothes off. While you’re waiting Simon moves his hand down to you clit, his brief contact makes you shake his hand going down to your entrance and gathering up some of your slick.
Once Johnny’s naked he climbs onto the sofa hooking his arms under your knees and pulling you down. His cock rests on your stomach as he bends over to kiss you. You moan in his mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. You run your hands across his chest and down his stomach. Before you can get any lower he pulls away and Simon grips your wrists again.
You huff much to Johnny’s amusement who strokes himself, teasing you by pressing his tip to your entrance, you’re already trying to grind your hips up against him but he keeps himself just far enough away.
“Johnny,” You sigh.
“Desperate lass?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod whining, you’re being needy, desperate to feel him inside you.
“Quit your teasing Tav.” Kyle says. You look over to him, he’s also stripped his clothes too. Johnny winks at him before pressing inside you. As soon as he does you tip your head back, you feel Sinmon twitch behind you, his thumbs rubbing your palms as he holds your hands out the way. Johnny’s desperate as he fucks you, needy and messy gripping your body wherever he needs to to drive into you deeper and deeper.
“Kyle, touch me.” You say, he smiles bending down his fingers rubbing your clit as Johnny thrusts into you. “Yes, like that.” He hums his other hand squeezing your breast. Simons whispering in your ear now. When he’s not praising you he’s sucking on your neck leaving marks.
“Need everyone to know you belong to us.” he growls, hot in your ear. “Gonna mark you up before we go away again.” You hum trying to keep still, it’s not taking you long to race back to that sweet peak. Johnny’s leaned back now bucking his hips into you while Kyle matches his speed with his fingers on your clit. You clench around Johnny as you get close.
“Christ lass, forgot how good you feel.”
“It’s only been a day.” Kyle chuckles. Your breathing picks up your heart hammering in your chest, you’re going to cum again already.
“Johnny-” You call his name as you cum pulsing around him, a few seconds later he’s throbbing inside you showing down his thrusts as cums too. Kyle’s hand leaves your clit and he moves over to kiss you. His kiss is soft, gentle as he moves his tongue around your mouth.
Johnny pulls out of you, you moan in Kyle's mouth feeling empty. “C’mon Kyle, she’s nice and ready for ya.” You hear Johnny slap his ass as Kyle pulls off your mouth.
“Think you can go again?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your chin.
“She can go again.” Simon hums as you nod. Kyle walks around to switch with Johnny. Kyle fucks you slow, he takes his time running his hands over your body. Simon lets your hands go to play with your nipples again. Normally it would take longer to have a third orgasm but the slower pace is a welcome respite.
Kyle’s name is leaving your lips as Johnny kisses your stomach pressing his fingers on your clit. Kyle cums first his cock pulsing pushing you over the edge, you grip around him as he leans over you panting into your ear.
“Christ love. You really are amazing.” You smile at him, painting as Simon's arms come to hug you. You almost completely forgot John was in the room until you see him moving around Johnny and Kyle who are both cooing over you. He’s naked too, although you’re not surprised you missed that one.
Kyle gets up from the end of the couch, you expect John to take his place but instead he walks round looping one of his arms under your knees and the other round your back. As you’re scooped up in his arms you can feel the warmth of Johnny and Kyle’s spend slip down your thighs.
John sits down on the sofa with you on his knees, you spread your legs for him, leaning back against his chest. His fingers press into your pussy, coating his fingers in cum. His fingers are thick stretching you out.
“Took good care of you, didn't they?” He hums in your ear. You nod, your heart still pounding in your chest. His fingers curl up inside you pressing against the spongy spot inside you. “I think you need a little more hum?”
“Yes please,” You breathe, grinding your hips against his hand.
“Yes please what?”
“Please sir, I need more.” You beg. He smiles, kissing your neck.
“Simon get over here.” John says, clicking his tongue. Simon obeys instantly, pulling his shirt off over his head and undoing his belt letting it fall to the floor with his trousers. Johnny and Kyle jump up on the sofa laying naked in each other's arms.
Simon is towering above you, his cock hard in his fist, leaking with precum. You’d been able to feel it twitching up behind you while Jonny and Kyle fucked you. John pulls his fingers out of you shiny with a mix of your slick and cum. He presses the fingers past your lips and you suck them clean. Simon likes that, watching you suck on John’s fingers.
He takes a step closer to you and John moves you round so Simon has better access to your pussy. Simon’s hands run up your thighs, his thumb brushes your clit. John takes his fingers out your mouth pressing them on your clit. You tip your head back moaning as Simon lines himself up and presses into you.
He’s big, stretching you out, it burns but in a good way. Especially since Johnny and Kyle have already opened you up. Simon’s hands grab your thighs angling you up. He’s vocal too panting and groaning as he fucks into you. You clench around him his cock hitting a deep spot inside you. John starts sucking on your neck.
“Simon’s been leaving marks on you huh?” John asks, you’re barely listening, his fingers continue to assault your clit. You nod moaning as you squeeze your eyes closed.
“Better make sure you have some from me too.” He says as he sucks on your neck and runs his tongue over the others. One of John's hands comes up to squeeze your nipple.
“Yes, don’t stop.” You say arching your back. His hand moves down to press you back into his lap, you feel his cock twitch against you, his precum dripping down your back.
“Si-” Your breathing turns to pants. You cry out at you cum, fighting in John’s grip as he holds you down. Your body is almost vibrating when you feel him twitching inside you.
“Bloody perfect.” Simon says leaning down to kiss you, his hands holding your face.
“‘Cause she is.” John says, Simon breaks the kiss rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. Simon’s hands leave your face then John turns you in his arms. He kisses you slowly, his hands supporting your body to lay you down on the sofa. Your head rests on the puffy pillows.
He breaks from the kiss and you look up at him wrapping your hands around his neck. Your body is throbbing as he pushes into you, you clench around him immediately causing him to moan closing his eyes.
“Relax,” he breathes in your ear. You listen to him bending your knees. He’s slow like Kyle, taking his time. His hands are round your back angling you up slightly, it feels like he's crashing straight into your cervix with each long thrust. Your head is fuzzy, your body blissed out from the previous rounds. You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to cum again.
His pace changes, he maneuvers you slightly and your mouth tips open moaning his name as the new angle feels too good. Now you’re definitely going to cum, especially now he’s panting in your ear.
“John, yes-” Your nails run up and down his back as he drives into you faster. “Don’t stop.” You cry out as you cum throbbing around him, your whole body tenses as he pumps into you. His painting turns to groans. You don’t even realise you’re digging your nails into his shoulders until he pulls you out and you relax.
“Fuck, you really are somthing.” He says leaning over to kiss you, his hand comes to brush the hair stuck to your forehead. He looks down at you planting more kisses round your face before he sits back on his knees.
The sex may be good but the aftercare is always the best. Johnny and Kyle come over to you with towels, you don’t even know where they got them from. Johnny helps pat the sweat off your head and chest as Kyle wipes between your legs as they tell you how good you’ve been for them.
When your heart rate has settled they help you upstairs to the bath where John is already waiting for you in the water. You climb in with him leaning up against his chest as he washes your body, pressing kisses over the marks they’ve left on your shoulders and neck.
“What would we ever do without you?” He hums in your ears, he litters you with compliments before Johnny comes back to help you out the bath and into the bedroom. Simon has already picked out the fluffiest pair of pyjamas and is laid in bed waiting for you.
Even though you swear you’re not tired, you climb into bed with him, he wraps his arms around you and holds you until you inevitably fall asleep surrounded by them all.
I literally wrote a whole chapter and it deleted </3
Masterlist
You woke up, body slumped against the door as you groaned. The soft strum of pain vibrated through your lower back, the dull ache sending a small zap through you as you stood up.
Groggy eyes drifted to the stained window, the barely visible streak of sun peaking over the forest as you sighed, feet padding against the floors as soft creaks spoke back to you.
You stared in the mirror, dull eyes staring back. You rubbed your face, small streaks of sticky sleep dragging across your palms as you picked them off.
Mortification is all you could feel. Not only are four men in your house, but you touched yourself to one, and another walked in on you. MID ORGASM. You silently prayed they had packed up their stuff and left. Or maybe it never happened and Ghost hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe- fuck it. There wasn’t much use denying.
The chill of the water woke you up as you scrubbed vigorously, almost as if you could wash away the embarrassment you felt.
You dressed yourself before heading to the barn, the acreage becoming more and more visible by the minute as you fed the animals, collecting any eggs in your makeshift apron, before letting the horses roam in the paddock
You took note of the overcast, thick smog of clouds littering across the barely visible sky. You needed the rain, but you also knew it would make it harder for them to leave if it did.
Conjuring that it would make things easier if they woke up and you were gone, you cooked yourself breakfast before heading out, planning to target a small set of shops you were yet to raid, tucked away on a more secluded part of the area. In fear of waking them up, you rolled out the rusting bike from the garage, a small woven basket adorned with half broken flowers as you rolled the worn wheels onto the gravel road.
You didn’t take much with you. Only a bottle of water, a pistol (incase you magically needed it) and two apples as well the large backpack stitched on your back.
The trail was mostly flat, a few rocks causing you to wobble from time to time, but for the most part it was an enjoyable ride. The soft flicker of the sun stretched through the adorned trees, the heaviness of the clouds beginning to weigh on you as you peddled faster.
It was an hour or two trek, you believed, the roaring ache of your thighs begging for the needed break as you pulled into the abandoned town. Sometimes you expect people to run out, waving you down in celebration, but it never came.
You could hear the soft groans of nearby dead, wobbling their rotting limbs towards the bike before turning around. The tinkle of the rusted bell greeted you as you ducked through the aisles. It was a small store, only supplying anything for a couple hundred, most items expired now anyway, but it was worth a look.
You held your bag open, dumping a few cans of tinned vegetables in as well as a bag of sugar, a pack of razors and some long-life cartons of skim milk. With achy thighs, you jumped over the counter, mess everywhere, register half open with nothing inside. It was funny, even during an apocalypse people found the time for money.
You rattled at the metal knob on the staff door, growing frustrated when it wouldn’t budge before you began to kick, slamming your boots against it repeatedly before it eventually swung open. It might have taken you 15 minutes, but it was sure worth it as you snatched up the golden sweetness many would refer to as whiskey.
You headed off with a few other things, half open stock boxes tipped everywhere as your hands grabbed for anything that hadn’t expire, or was about to. With a heavier bag, and a smug smile on your face, you peddled your way home.
“Y’ think she got scared and buggered off?” Soap quipped, mouth half full with an apple, juices spurting across the room as Ghost glared back.
“If it wasn’t for him,” Gaz interjected, thumb pointing towards the masked-man, “she probably would have let us stay.”
Ghost rolled his eyes, replaying the scene in his head for the hundredth time. Sure, he should’ve knocked but he’s glad he didn’t. Half of him wanted her to ask him to stay, to fully satisfy her, to fully satisfy him.
“She wouldn’t have just packed up and left- put far too much effort into all this place to leave,” Price said, voice deeper than usual as he took a swig of water. Time ticked slowly as they waited around, searching every crevice of the house before they landed on a bow and arrow.
Soap snatched it, veiny hands clawing at the weapon as if it was gold. “What’dya say, LT? Fancy hunting some deer?”
“I ain’t hunting for anybody if I ain’t staying-“
“Go hunt a f’cking deer,” Price huffed.
The two me disappeared into the forest as Gaz stepped outside, bottom plonked in the barely comfortable porch chair. The Captain knew you would probably bitch them out, but a sick part of him wanted you to let them stay, wanted you to realise they were what you needed, that they magically landed on your farm for some Godforsaken purpose.
He would make you realise. He knew he would.
You felt like vomiting now, your bones burning as if they had clawed through your flesh, attempting to escape the treacherous journey that you forced yourself to endure.
You almost felt lost. Why did it feel so much longer on the way back?
You smiled to yourself softly as you passed the tree you marked a few months ago, the unmistakable smiley face almost greeting you. Your smile quickly faded when you felt a spit land on your cheek. And then another. And another. Until you were peddling faster as wet pellets hit the ground.
Slippery hands clutched the leather handles as you neared the entrance of the farm. You were drenched now, hair matted to your neck and face as you flicked it behind you, annoyed that you neglected your clip.
Your boots squelched against the ground as you slammed the garage door shut, weak arms clutching your bag as you swung it around your shoulder, weaving in and out of trees as you stumbled up the front steps.
Tumbling inside, you took note of the cleaner house, a small wrapped bowl of vegetables and a bowl of tomato soup (that was probably cold now) greeting you as you kicked off your boots. You stood over the sink as you scrunched your hair out, the trickle of water tapping as you shrugged off your coat, fumbling outside to hang it on the underground clothes line.
For a minute you thought they had left, no manly faces greeting you until you heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Made you some lunch,” he said.
“Thank you… Gaz, isn’t it?” Clammy hands gripped the bowls as you sat down on the couch, the lukewarm mixture sliding down your oesophagus.
“That’s right,” he replied, gentle smile adorning his face as he watched you, trying to observe you, almost as if you were a war criminal he wanted to break in. Military men, you thought.
You sat in silence, yet didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. Though Gaz was incredibly handsome, and well built, you almost felt comfortable in his presence and you couldn’t quite place why.
“Where did you go?” He asked, almost as if he was hesitant to speak. Your eyes flickered to his lap, hands gently rubbing together before rubbing against his denim-covered thighs. He has nice thighs.
“Uh, I went into a town.. bout two hours from here. Got a few things and I also just wanted to.. get out, I guess.”
He nodded.
Once you finished up, you braced yourself as you ran outside, yet found no horses frolicking frightened in the paddock. Fear ran through you as you sprinted to the barn, heavy footsteps slapping against the mud as you took in the closed door.
You let out a shaky sigh, relieved, when you saw two large, longer heads staring at you from inside, the gentle squawks of hens sounding across the room.
“I hope you don’t mind that I put them inside, figured you would hav’ done that anyway when you got back.” You jumped at the voice, body jolting as you snapped your head.
Price stood there, rough hands clutching a wooden broom as he swept, a beanie now plonked on his head instead of the hat he greeted you with.
“Uh- thanks. Yeah, they’re afraid of the rain.”
“Y’r a good owner, picking up the slack after they were abandoned.”
“I guess so,” you conceded. You looked at him, taking in the way his eyes flickered down your drenched frame, a cerulean blue darkening into a navy.
“Y’r wet.” His tone was sharp, even while stating the obvious, a visible clench of his jaw causing you to tense as you wobbled, suddenly nervous under his gaze.
“Well, I was out in the rain,” you said, almost like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You looked away but could feel him walking closer to you.
“Y’r gonna catch a cold if you don’t change.”
“I’ll survive,” you replied, your voice now dropping to a low whisper. You looked at him, his stare heavy, almost like it was weighting you down. He smiled at you, a hand reaching out before it landed on the flesh of your waist, squeezing as you felt the familiar heat you encountered last night, prickling through you again.
Your breathing was shallow, an occasional hick passing through you as his hand lingered. “Pretty thing, hm?” He gestured, nodding towards your chest as you noticed the faint outline of the rose-coloured brassiere you chose today. You blushed and you were sure you looked silly, a red hue across your face as you barely stuttered a reply.
You turned, almost feeling like you were about to choke. Feeling betrayed by your own body, you pressed your thighs together and you were sure he noticed.
“Y’n need any help staying warm,” he began, “just tell me, sweetheart.”
CW: Suggestive themes, mention of rape, female masturbation, second hand embarrassment
Masterlist
You looked at the dishes piled up in the sink, a wave of nausea hitting you. A part of you was glad, comforted by the idea of having humans around yet you couldn’t shake the substantial feeling of dread.
What if they killed you? Or raped you? Or both? What would happen to your body? Would you turn? Would you just decompose and hopefully move onto a better place? Your mind thumped against the thick walls of your skull before you felt a hand placed on your shoulder. A hand clamped your shoulder.
“You ‘lright?” Price said, a comforting smile adorned on his face before you shrugged his hand off.
“Just fine,” you reply, a tight smile on your face, “I’ll show you the bedrooms.” They followed you upstairs, the pounding of their boots against the floor giving you a headache. You led them to a bedroom, the subtle smell of dust lingering as you took in the unused space. There was a double bed, a mint green quilt with pink roses adorning it, two pillows both placed neatly on either side. “You can figure out who goes where,” you say, pushing the door open from across the hall.
You walk into the second guest room, a queen sized bed splat in the middle, a dark blue quilt tucked in, a row of grey pillows furnishing the top. “There’s a bathroom down the hall to the right. The plumbing still works somehow but don’t over-flush. You can have a shower but the water will be cold,” you say, attempting to sound intimidating as you avert your gaze.
“Thank you,” Price smiled, stepping inside the room.
Gaz and Soap offered you a squeeze on the shoulder quickly, a polite thank you leaving their mouth. Ghost however, sorted just stared at you, blinking slowly before turning towards the first room.
You find yourself thinking as you brushed Cecil, his grey fur shedding quickly as you stroked his behind, whispering small praises towards the large animal.
What if you tell them to leave and they don’t? What if they take over your house and kick you out? What if-
You stop yourself, rubbing your head in your hands as you lead the horses back to the barn, preparing dinner for the other animals before locking the door securely. You finished up outside, ensuring the crops were well watered before heading up the porch steps and through the back door.
Gaz was sat on the couch, a book in his hands as he looked up. “I hope you don’t mind, found it on the shelf.”
You kept your face straight but nodded, “It’s fine.” Truth be told, it was as comforting to have people around, the same as it was fearful. You knew that if they tried anything, they would win, no matter what gun you hold.
Time seems to be going quicker as you prepare a salad with some grown vegetables with bread. You were glad that your father was a chef, always teaching you how to make things from scratch. You didn’t like to dwell, hoping that somehow your family were immune too. Maybe one day, you would see them again. Maybe.
You placed the loaf of dough inside a tray before lighting the woodburner and placing it inside. You hummed softly to yourself as you heard footsteps against the wooden stairs. “Feeding us again, bonnie?”
“Only if it’ll get you guys to leave me alone,” you reply, not bothering to look at him. You hear his tongue click softly as he shuffles over to you.
“Y’ need help?”
You lowered the knife, gesturing for him to take over as you step outside, sitting on the old porch chair as you tuck your legs up, arms holding them in place as you stare out, the hues of the sun disappearing as the night begins to consume it.
As night falls, you head inside, hands reaching into the burner to grab the bread as you let it cool. You looked at the large bowl of vegetables tossed together, the men gathered around the never-used dining table, chattering amongst each other.
You let them sit for a while before calling out. It was entertaining watching the four grown men subtly walk faster than the other to get a plate first. You cut the bread, steam gauging out of each slice before you sat down at the dining table, fingers nervously fiddling with the metal cutlery.
They sat down around you, looking at you occasionally as you ate. “Listen, we do appreciate-“ Price began before you cut him off.
“You’ve told me. You can stay for the night but you’re off tomorrow. I prefer living alone.”
Price nods as the others look down, the sound of lettuce and carrot crunching filling the awkward void. As they finished up, you locked the doors and shut the blinds, the gentle hum of the fire comforting you before you head upstairs.
Your eyes flicker between pages of a book as you nestle in bed. You were clad in a sheer nightgown, your usual pyjama set hanging to dry outside. Your eyebrows furrowed as you read. While cliche, for a while everything felt normal when absorbing yourself between lines of paper, like you were simply escaping reality.
A gentle knock sounded on your door as you looked up. Price stood there, gentle smile on his face as he asked to come in.
“What is it?” You answered.
“I know I’ve said it, but thank you. Even if it was just for a day, it’s helped us a lot. Not many people, especially a woman alone, would let four men into her home… not during a time like this.”
Your body tensed for a second before it relaxed. You let out a soft sigh, placing the book on the side as you stood up to look at him closer. There was no use in lying, he was very attractive. His stern looking face covered with a bushy beard and moustache, blue eyes staring intensely under thick brows. He was older, the evidence of faint wrinkles indented on his forehead, yet his body was still in shape.
You were never a prude, but also never pushed for unnecessary encounters with the opposite sex. You weren’t an ugly girl, your features working well together, especially when you weren’t scowling.
“I-“ you begin, trying to think of what to say, “I appreciate you saying that. You guys are the first… real people I’ve come across since this all began. I know how difficult it is. And I suppose it wasn’t bad to reencounter civilisation.”
Price lets out a shallow laugh, hand coming up to squeeze at your shoulder as he looks at you. You don’t shrug him away this time, allowing the grip to scold your skin with prickling heat. You didn’t speak, simply watching him back through hooded lashes.
You felt your nipples pebble, the cold air brushing through as you remembered the warmth of your bed. You watch his gaze flicker down to your chest, sucking in a silent breath before he looked back up at you.
Had it been 296 days for him too without a woman? Had it been 296 days for all of them without a woman?
You didn’t shy away from his gaze, heat spreading across your body as you felt the timid intimidation of a low throb in your pussy. You offered him a small smile before gripping the door. “Goodnight, John.”
“Night, love.”
You felt like a fucking teenager, with your gown bunched up at your waist, hands timorous as they softly rolled the sensitive bud in a circular motion, gentle pants spilling from your lips. Everything felt more real, more heightened, probably from the lack of touching down there for months.
Dipping your fingers into your slit, legs spread and needy, you could feel the antagonising slick tease your hole, pooling at the crevice of your ass. This wet over a random man? You should feel ashamed, should, but you don’t. The light sound of squelching lit your room as you plunged a desperate finger into your heat, a rough gasp leaving your throat as you lie back further.
You tease yourself, left hand reaching down to entertain your neglected clit as another finger braced your entrance. Did it always feel like this? Did my fingers always not feel like enough? Like they needed something more?
A wanton moan stained the room as you thrashed your head against the pillow, sticky fingers just reaching that gooey spot inside you, swift thrusts causing your eyes to roll back.
You felt like a virgin again, pussy barely able to take two fingers and minimal thrusts before the coil in your stomach began to form.
Would it be so bad to call him in? Soak his beard in your cunt? Feel what it’s like to take two fingers properly? Maybe more?
You felt like you had a balloon growing inside you, every swift movement expanding it more, ready to pop, ready to let your body release, ready to feel satisfi-
“F’cking hell-“
You looked at the sudden burst of sound, eyes darting over to your least favourite in the house, visible crinkles in his dirty mask. His eyes visibly darting to your heat, taking in your fingers stuffed inside, the slickness coating them.
You squealed, orgasm barely washing over you as you twitched, pulling your fingers out abruptly and straightening your nightgown.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” You screeched, voice cracking as you wobbled to the door and slammed it shut, body leaning against it as you panted. You stilled, listening to hear his footsteps walk over but the comforting sound never came.
It only started as a cold. Then it spread to a viral infection, consuming people faster than poison. It didn’t take long for the world to stop, for terror to appear, spreading like a wildfire, destroying cities as quickly as they appeared.
It was a vastly asked question growing up, “Do you think you would survive the apocalypse?” and to those who answered yes, where are you now? For you, surviving came easy. You remember it, the scene playing in your head like clockwork.
“Vienna, we have to go!” You spat, your voice scratching against your parched throat as you watched the dead-alive tear at the walls, staggering limbs chasing after the scent of beating veins.
“I can’t run any faster,” Vienna spat, sheer fire running through her exhausted body as she stumbled upon the concrete road. You trusted her. You were going to get through it together. You were all each other had now.
You didn’t stop, only grabbing her hand as your worn shoes skidded against the floor, the smell of rubber burning your nose. “We need to get over that fence!” You yelled, your eyes blurred from exhaustion as you tugged the girl next to you, your sweat dancing along your palms.
You stumbled, heavy feet clamping into the chain as you attempted to pull yourself up. The taste of metallic engorged your mouth as you bit harshly on your tongue, gripping onto Vienna’s hand in an effort to pull her up.
“You need to hurry!” Your voice yelped out, dragging the girl as if she was a rag-doll, your efforts rushed as you attempted to pull her up. It felt like a movie, the sound of gargling flesh, mangled between broken teeth and rotting skin acting as a soundtrack, yet it wasn’t fiction. This was real, this was reality.
Your leg was now hunched over, your body positioned between the fence as you focused on saving your friend. The clamminess between both of your hands, causing a friction as she continued to slip. “I-I can’t, Y/N, pull me harder,” Vienna exasperated, her voice high pitched as she watched behind her, rotten claws scratching the air.
Vienna’s feet dug into the chain as she wobbled, slick pools of blood flooding at her palms as she sliced the tender skin upon the metal. A grunt left her mouth as she clasped onto your hand, the dead swarming closer, desperate and starved.
Almost comically, Vienna whispered out an “I’m sorry” before tugging. You landed with a whack, your knees hitting the ground as you winced, your jeans skidding across the ground, fresh marks of friction, followed by the prickle of blood appeared quickly upon your palms and knees as your eyes darted to the girl infront of you, clambering up the fence.
Your breathing stilled, the sound of static filling your ears, muting everything around you as your limbs froze up. This was it, you thought, the stench of death approaching you as you attempted to stand, hands gripping out to reach for any weapon as the sound of struggle behind you deafened you.
You covered your ears, tucking your face into your knees as you sat up, flashes of everything you were running through your brain like a compilation. Instead, you were met with the trample of feet and bodies toppling over you. Your eyes adjusted, looking at the huddle of zombies walking near you, not paying you a care as they focused on the flesh of your once friend.
Your body stirred for a second, your flesh searing in the sun as you crawled up, your legs weak. You almost wish you had died then, the sound of Vienna’s scream even after her betrayal paralysing you. You didn’t stick around, your hand securing your satchel as you limped off, the sound of squelching and gnarling being the only thing you left behind.
You kept a calendar on a torn, leather notebook, marking each day carefully since the first. It had been 296 days. 296 days of being alone. 296 of being invisible. 296 days of nothing. You survived in an old farm house, tucked away in a rural forest in God know’s where. It was funny, you expected to see someone, anyone, but you never did.
Maybe it was easier that way, you were a given a chance with someone, and they left you to die. It was easy to make a simple life for yourself out here and you often wondered why the previous owner’s had left.
Your food was supplied by the garden, a plethora of fruits and vegetables adorned across the land as you tended to them. There were animals too. Cows, chickens, horses. You grew to care for them, speaking to them often as if they would reply. It was worth a shot, you thought, and it made you less lonely.
You survived by fending for yourself, learning how to shoot an arrow as you hunted the occasional deer in the forest, tenderising the meat on their gas stove. There was a small town nearby, practically untouched that you had raided, using the spare pickup truck that dusted away in the garage.
You had never seen anyone, but if you did, whoever lived here didn’t shy away from guns, the shotgun he left behind and the small pistols he littered around the house, along with your bow and arrow, were your forms of protection. Everything was simple. Everything was as perfect as it could be, you were fine.
It was a regular occurrence for you to ride now, your ass plush against the saddle as you trotted around the acreage. It was rare to see zombies along here, the silence speaking for itself, and if they did, they didn’t pay any attention to you walking over to them and chopping their head off with an axe. You found it comforting as you listened to the whistle of the horse’s nostrils, breathing out slowly.
As it grew dark, you locked the barn, securing it tightly before heading inside. You were thankful for fire as you chucked a log of wood you had chopped into the burner, lighting it with a match. You locked the door, front and back, as you shut the blinds, a simple routine you did to soothe yourself. Your feet, covered by fluffy socks you had found in a cupboard, padded against the floor as you headed up the creaky stairs.
Your body conformed to the blankets covering you, hushing you to sleep as your body gratefully accepted. The only thing that would wake you would be the sun, and the haunting memory of Vienna.
The teapot whistled, steam singing out of the nozzle as you carried it to the bath. Though it was a luxury to shower in hot water, it had rained these past couple of weeks, allowing for the rain tank to fill up and be put to good use.
Your body scorched against the porcelain tub as you stepped in, the muscles in your thighs kneading themselves into tight balls before the tension released. You used one of the several soap bars you had stored, scrubbing against your tender skin as you washed yourself. Your fingers trailed against the gash of a scar on your forearm, a reminder of the fence, a reminder of her.
You finished up, your body snug around a towel you had recently washed using an off-the-grid washing machine they kept stored in the basement. Thank God people lived like that before civilisation turned to shit, either that, or Amish. You weren’t complaining about either.
You changed into a pair of shorts, the weather slowly warming up as the winter passed, the celebration of spring approaching on your calendar. You fed yourself with an apple before approaching the barn, the key clicking against the door as you greeted the animals, feeding them with a mix of leftover animal food and vegetables. Sure, it wasn’t the best diet, but it fed them well enough to provide milk and eggs.
Your feet padded against the hay-covered floor, arms stroking the horse you were most fond of (that you called Nancy) before letting her out, straddling her waist with a saddle as you dragged her to the fenced paddock. You were quick to grab Cecil, the male of the pair. While he was now fond of you, your stomach had still not fully forgiven him for the brutal kick he gave you when you first met.
Once your legs grew, sore, staggering to continue directing the horse, you huddled inside, as you began to sew, using an old dress you found to create a shirt and a skirt. You hummed softly to yourself, the silence of the house speaking back to you, the distance sound of a chugging engine humming in as you stilled.
Like a statue, you froze before dropping expletives, your body slinking over to the window as you looked outside. Is that.. a truck? The soft hum of the engine grew closer as you rushed to grab your shotgun, before rushing outside, hands flailing around as you waited for the car to turn around.
“This is private property!” You yelled, your voice stern, “You need to leave.” Your face was vastly covered by the large gun you held, doing your best to intimidate whoever it was that drove on the land.
You heard the sound of doors opening, before four different doors closed. You lowered your gun, eyes squinting as you froze. You almost felt like your eyes were betraying you as you took in the group before you.
A man wearing a bucket hat, raised his arms slowly, slinking towards you as you stepped back. “Listen, we ain’t- we ain’t trying to scare you,” he spoke, his voice authoritative, “we didn’t think anyone would be out here.”
“Well, I am,” you snapped, lowering the gun slightly to look at him, “So fuck off, you and whoever is behind you isn’t welcome here.”
A man, the tallest of the group, stepped forward. He was intimidating, a black balaclava with a skull face situated on top covered his identity, his frame bricked with muscle as his chest puffed forward, “Listen-“ he began before the man with the hat cut him off.
“We ain’t here for issues, sweetheart, simply need a place to stay. We were in the military and we would greatly appreciate it.”
You furrowed your brows as you raised your gun again, “If you were in the military, why the fuck are you still here? Shouldn’t they have shipped you off somewhere safe?”
“We were on a mission, stuck in a safe house in the middle of nowhere. We assumed we had lost connection when no one could contact us. Took us a while to realise what had happened,” he spoke, arms over his chest, “I promise we ain’t here to hurt ya, at most we just want to eat and if you don’t want us here tomorrow, we’ll get out of your hair, a’right?”
You stilled, taking in their clothes, lined with badges and gear you would only seen on someone in the military. You lowered your gun before turning on your heel back to the house. You waited for a second, not moving, before you heard the sound of multiple feet against gravel before they walked into the house, soft sighs leaving their lips.
“Do you have supplies?” You quipped, tone harsh as you looked at them, placing the gun down yet keeping it in arms reach. Sure you had never shot one, but how hard could it be?
Another man nodded and you could finally take a look at him. Does he have a Mohawk? You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh as you stared at him. “Got some bottled water in the boot, and some military meals we found at some shops along the way as well as some toiletries. It’s not a lot- but it’ll help,” he said, a thick Scottish accent causing you to scrunch your brows together in an attempt to understand him.
You nodded slowly, still not taking your eyes off of them before reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a labelled pot. The words stew stared back at you before you turned on the stove, letting it simmer. “The best I can feed you all with notice is left over deer stew. If you don’t want it, fend for yourself else where,” you snapped, rubbing between your eyebrows as you grabbed a spoon.
“That’s more than enough, thank you,” the hat man said, his arms resting on the table before he headed outside, to presumably grab the supplies in the boot.
“You been out here this whole time?” An unfamiliar voice spoke. You turned to him. He was handsome, with a boyish smile and soft features, his skin a complimenting shade of brown.
“Not the whole time, ended up here by mistake I suppose but I’m not complaining.”
“You survived this entire time by yourself?” The masked man gibed, looking you up and down as if you were useless. You shot him a nasty glare, your tone spiteful, “Yes, I have and now I have four dickwads at my door, begging to stay with me.”
The man silenced himself, eyes crinkling slightly as he turned around. “What’s your name?” The Scottish one asked, stepping closer to watch you heat the food as your body tensed.
“Y/N,” you said curtly.
“I’m Soap,” he announced, bouncing softly on his feet as he breathed in real food for a change.
“Hell kinda name is Soap?” You spat, staring at him.
“Military name, lass. Real names John,” he added, a small smile on his face before he turned to the others. “That’s Gaz, or Garrick,” he said, pointing to the handsome one, “and that’s Ghost, or-“
“Just Ghost,” the masked man grumbled. You rolled your eyes at his lack of manners, growing more frustrated by the second.
Soap strummed his fingers against the counter before clearing his throat. “The one outside is Price, names also John so it’s easier to just call us Price and Soap.”
The man you now knew as Price walked back in, hands clutching plastic containers filled with water bottles, items stacked on top as he placed them on the counter. “Thank you,” he said, gesturing towards the stew as you nodded.
“There are two spare bedrooms upstairs that you can rest in for the night, I’ll show you to them after we eat,” you say, grabbing a ladle and 5 China bowls.
As you sat down, you felt yourself relax slightly, trying to reassure yourself that if they wanted to hurt you, they would have done so already. Would others around the house be that bad? You shook your head, shaking the idea away.
CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.
“See her coming out now.” Ghost says over the radio.
“Afirm.” Soap’s voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. It’s almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now you’re alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night.
“Watch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.” Price says.
“Copy.” Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. They’re not going to lose sight of you though. That’s what Ghost is for.
He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets.
“She’ll take the next right. Don’t lose her.” Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. He’ll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had.
It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night.
The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.
Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghost’s lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not.
“Soap, don’t lose her.” Ghost orders panic building in his chest. There’s no reply, now Ghost can’t even see Soap. “Soap, confirm visual on the target.”
Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home.
“Stand-by.” The seconds feel like they’re ticking on for hours. “Eyes on target, she’s-”
The line goes silent.
“She’s just throwing up, seems like she’s had a few too many.” Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet.
“Keep it tight, she’s got another main strip to cross.” Price says. He’ll be moving on already. The amount of times you’ve walked this route. The amount of times they’ve practiced this route, it’s almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep.
You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you.
As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home.
“ETA 10 minutes.” Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street.
“Copy,” Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, you’re almost home, almost safe.
“Got a guy on her six, just overtook me.” Soap says. Ghost’s eyes flick over in an instant.
“I see.” Ghost says, watching as the man’s pace slows. “Hang back Soap. I got eyes.”
Ghost doesn’t even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. You’re almost there, almost home.
“Want me to grab him?” Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up.
“Negative.”
You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you.
“Hey, welcome home.” Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.
“It’s late, you didn’t have to wait up.” you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist.
“Needed to make sure you got home safe.” You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him.
The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty.
“Cuppa? Or bed?” Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.
“Where’s Johnny and Simon?” You ask.
“Sleeping, they’re not used to staying up as late as you are.” John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.
“Bed.” You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure you’re definitely gone.
“You better hurry up, I’m pretty sure she’s looking to climb into your bed tonight.” John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island.
“Get some rest cap, you look exhausted.” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon.
“Another successful night.” John says as Simon puts his radio down.
