#f you Kyle you know what you did

[msmillionworlds]

I’m really sad that PO is gone, but the silver lining is that he didn’t go to a team I hate and he gets to play with his brother 🥹

[notquitecanon]

IRL Plug and Play || Poly!141 x Fem!Reader

Summary: Third part of my Search History series (based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal minds) , the dinner party. The culmination of a month of knowing the boy's browser histories. Not much of a summary, it's pretty much dirty from start to finish.

18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warning: Fem pronouns and genitals, alcohol consumption, alcohol used during sex, porn, emulating porn, group sex, unprotected sex, tagging dub con just to be on the safe side but not really if you read the other parts you get it, Oral (M & F recieiving), fingering, penetration (F receiving) , allusions to penetration (male recieving), inappropriate use of cigar ashes. Genuinely this is just me being gross about these men for almost 12,000 words, proceed with caution. Say it with me one more time- irl this would be workplace harassment and NOT sexy. However, these are fictional war criminals who ARE sexy so we’re forgiving it. 

Original Idea First Prev My Masterlist

made a lil header for the first time these are the vibes of reader and 141 :) (not Penelope's psychical description just her vibes)

pssst see how they're all on their mics in the pics?? its cuz your the voice in their ears :)

When you pulled into a parking spot on John Price’s street thirty minutes early, you automatically feel squirmy and a little foolish. Foolish because you’d convinced yourself that you were reading too much into things. So much so, that, somehow, the boys seeking out your porn twin had circled back around to you feeling like the unprofessional one. Squirming because you’d found the video they’d all watched more than once (more than three times) in the last days of their assignment. Barrack’s Bunny Get’s Gang Banged! 

 (Of course it was a military inspired orgy video, with four men and one woman that looked almost identical to you. Because, JFC, why wouldn’t it be? Was this actress in on the torment? Was she taking requests or was this some sort of cosmic joke where the punchline was your own sexual frustration?)  

Ok, how the hell were you not supposed to read into that? 

You hadn’t been able to watch it all the way through yet, having to pause and take breaks to calm yourself down. The thumbnail alone of your doppelgänger with four sets of hands and… other extremities... was enough to tempt you put your car back in drive and go back home. Because you weren’t sure you could look any of them in the eyes, and also for the third time in the last hour, you were second guessing your outfit. 

Because what the hell does one wear to the porn-party with their boss and superiors? (Ok, maybe you should start by stop calling it the ‘porn-party’, because outside of your own finding in their browser histories, they’d yet to mention any actual porn to you in real life, but what else were you supposed to call this?)

After leaving work, you’d spent a long time debating if you needed to change and, if so, into what, and would it be delusional to put on a matching set? Johnny did say he liked seeing something soft… And were your work clothes too stiff? Was the skirt too presumptuous after that video Kyle liked titled Easy Access ? And was it just you or did your work blouse look slightly too much like the one from the office-scene Price had bookmarked? And why the hell was this all you could think about? Strewing your clothes around your bedroom like a teenager before a party, different combinations and options littering your bed and dresser until you got frustrated with yourself and your closet. With a what the hell moment of ambivalence, you’d settled on something comfortable, but switched into a lacy bralette, lying to yourself that it was more comfortable than the one you’d worn to work, and if the lacy strap happened to coquettishly accent your shoulder when your sweater sleeve slipped down your arm? Well, if it wasn’t a Porn Party, then no one would notice, and if it was, well it’d be sure to draw some appreciative eyes. 

Your car was still cranked as you sat slightly down the block from Price’s house in your casual sweater and hidden matching set, anxiously killing time by alternating between tik tok, instagram, tumblr, and oh yes,  the Barracks Bunny Gets Gang Banged video that you’d been working through thirty seconds at a time because any longer had your overheating and threatening to leave a snail trail on your upholstery. So enthralled and flustered, you’d barely thought of the fact you were quietly playing porn over your car’s bluetooth system, you’d made it to the official halfway mark, and each time you’d switched out to a different app, the ‘break’ was short lived as you went back for more, one hand white knuckling your steering wheel as if this was a particularly good movie with a plot twist you just couldn’t miss. 

So enthralled, that a sudden knocking on your window startled you so bad that you half-tossed-half-dropped your phone with a sound that could only be described as a ’squawk’  as you slammed the mute button to your car’s stereo. It was as you were turning towards the knocker, that you realized you could 100% catch a public indecency charge for this, and somehow were still only half relieved to find Johnny leaning slightly down so he could meet your gaze through your driver-side window. He had his raincoat on, and a lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer as he looked in on you with a cheeky smile and raised brows. When you just stared up at him like a deer in headlights, mentally trying to figure out just how long he’d been there and if from that angle he could’ve seen your screen and how good was the sound proofing on your car…. As you ran those mental calculations, Johnny simply knocked again and this time added a downwards motion with his cigarette, requesting you to roll down the window. 

You’d never noticed how slow your windows descended as the two of you held eye contact (awkward on your side, delighted on his), until there was no longer a pane of glass between you. The cool, damp night breeze carried the scent of tobacco and some kind of Old Spice fragrance into your little car as you looked up at the Scotsman. He seem amused, but happy to see you, "Coming?" 

Your brain short circuited for a moment. Were you… cumming? You stared at him wide eyed, convinced you’d misheard him. 

"What?" Was all you managed to respond with, your brain still trying to scrub filthy, lewd images from between its lobes, like a community service volunteer cleaning graffiti off subway walls. Johnny’s eyebrows only raised higher with his signature, Can’t wait to tell Ghost about this look, as he took another deep puff of his cig. 

"Are ye coming inside, hen?" He clarified slowly with that shit eating grin after blowing his smoke away form you- what a gentleman, "Or are’ye planning to sit out here all night?" 

"Oh, right." You mumbled, resisting the urge to scrub your hands across your face to physically redirect your thoughts. Instead, you nodded and started gathering your things, "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming inside." 

"Good, Si was getting impatient." Johnny grinned, stepping back so you could open your car door after you fished your phone from the passenger floorboards and cut the engine. Si? You hadn’t head that nickname for Ghost before, hell, you still excusively called him Ghost to his face, because you’d not received permission for anything else. Simon was personal, Si… was intimate...  He watched you expectantly, snapping you out of your thoughts, and when you only responded in silent confusion, he reached inside the still open vehicle and tapped the buttons, "Window, bonnie, s'raining." 

Cheeks heating in mild embarrassment, you quickly cut the battery back on so you roll up the window and then get out. You’d always been a little scatter-brained, prone to being in your own little world, but this was getting excessive. Maybe all the porn really was melting your brain… With the windows up and double checking the car was off, you finally got out of the car. Johnny immediately took the plate of brownies out of your hand in the guise of gentlemanly conduct, but actually snuck one from under the plastic wrap before you could scold him.  

"Why so grim? Y’look like yer marching off to war." Johnny seemed pretty pleased with his own little joke, his free arm resting in the small of your back to guide you up Price’s porch step and into the house like you might run off down the street without his guidance. You were considering it anyways. 

"I don’t look grim." You shot him a look but didn’t shake off his arm, nor could you prevent the smile that was fighting at the corners of your mouth, snatching the brownies back from him before he could snag another, happy to have something to fidget with as you smoothed the plastic wrap back into place. 

"No, you most definitely do not." And there was the other sergeant, Kyle, holding the door open for the two of you. Smiling as charmingly as ever, Kyle was already taking the dish out of your hands only to hand the dessert back to Johnny to carry off somewhere else. Then, he was on you, "Glad you could make it, love. Don’t listen to Soap, you look beautiful.” “Hey! Dinnae say she couldn’t be grim and beautiful.” Soap called back, already on his way deeper into the house. 

"Such a shameless flirt." You scoffed just loud enough to drown out Johnny with your own teasing smile, a more usual routine amongst all the overthinking you’d been doing, as Gaz helped you out of your coat. Maybe you were imagining the sensuality, but you were not imagining how his touch lingered, and how his fingers grazed the fabric of your sweater as it was exposed. Hell, he was basically unwrapping your raincoat like it was the gift wrap on a present, "Don’t look half bad yourself, though." 

All the boys looked good in their civilian clothes, hell they’d all look good in anything (or nothing… Focus. Focus.). But Kyle? In his stylish and tailored clothes? He always looked he’d walked off a J. Crew magazine cover when he wasn’t on base. His burgundy sweater looked like something you wanted to rub your cheek against, soft and warm and it fit him like a glove. Gaz grinned at your little praise, not speeding up his maddeningly slow pace of peeling off your raincoat and adjusting your hair for you afterwards, which distracted you just enough that you didn’t notice the others watching his little show. One of his lingering fingers seemed to all together abandon it’s mission, instead tracing the arced lace strap of your (meticulously chosen) lace bralette strap that had fallen off your shoulder. You watched Kyle’s finger follow the flowery lace pattern for a moment before fixing back on your shoulder with an audible snap! that made you jump a little from the sting. 

This time you did see Johnny’s amused grin and slightly devious eyes as your own went wide and you let out a little yelp, snapping your eyes over your soldier at the sergeant. Gaz was quick to soothe the ouch, humming at you before you could get disgruntled while his warm palm cupped the curve of your shoulder and rubbed the slightly stinging skin softly. And if you were still reading into things (you were) you could swear it was just for him to have a reason to touch you more.

"Sorry, love, had to fix it, was bothering me." Was the only explanation offered for his actions. Once your jacket was off, Gaz hung it on the foyer hooks, it looking comically small and feminine between all four of theirs. You knew your brain was melted from all the porn when the visual immediately reminded you of the stupid video’s thumbnail picuture… the pretty, feminine actress with four huge actors surrounding her… Fortunately, Kyle tugging you further into the house pulled you out of your dirty-thought spiral. 

In the kitchen, John Price was waiting, marinating a platter of steaks. You couldn’t help the amused quirk of a smile at seeing the apron tied over his civilian clothes, an unlit cigar in the chest pocket for easy access. The captain smiled first to Gaz with an approving nod, and then to you with a teasing smirk, "Thought you’d sit out in your car all night." 

"I’m early." You defended yourself, cheeks now must be permanently stained into a flush with how easily they managed to fluster you. Gaz parked himself right beside you, leaning on the counter but standing so close that his shoulder was slotted slightly behind you, half his chest pressed to your back, distractingly proving your early guess that his sweater was, in fact, very soft.  It took the steam out of your vehement defense, "You said, eight. It’s 7:50." 

"Yeah, but you’ve been sitting out there since 7:30, love." Kyle chided. You wondered if it was the whiskey he was sipping that gave him the courage to puncuate his teasings with a slight pinch to your hip that made you squirm. His closeness kept you from slipping away as he shifted his attention to his captain, that easy going smile still on his face, "She brought brownies." 

"I know. Johnny’s already had two." Price smiled, slathering another steak with marinade and massaging it into the meat with tender but deliberate ministrations of his long fingers that, for a moment, made you jealous of a dead slab of beef. His eyes caught yours staring at his hands, chuckling as he cleared his throat, "We had something else in mind for dessert. Very sweet of you though." 

Something Price said made Kyle chuckle like it was some kind of inside joke, his fingers still on your hip, tracing little circles that were almost as distracting as… whatever the hell it was that Price was doing to the steaks. 

"Now, go off and relax. I’m about to cut onions and we don’t want to mess up that pretty make up." Price ordered, shooing you off towards his stocked bar cart, before adding quietly enough you thought you might have hallucinated it, "Not yet, anyways." 

__

Later, after you’d been supplied a drink and deposited on the couch with Ghost to watch what you were pretty sure was a rugby match (you were a little distracted by his warm arm draped over your shoulder, fingers tracing the same floral lace Gaz had). 

"Gonna have to make some more room, love." Kyle grinned, looking down at you, holding his drink in one hand and one of your brownies in the other. You looked around yourself, already sandwhiched between the armrest of the sofa and Ghost who hadn’t closed his legs even a fraction when Johnny’d led you to the couch originally. Wasn’t much room to make room with. 

"Oh, I can just-" you started, standing carefully as to not spill the drink Kyle had made for you. Before you could step away to claim the plush arm chair by the mantle (a safe distance from Simon’s thigh against yours and Kyle’s lingering touches), a strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you right back down. Instead of your original seat, however, it was Ghost who had pulled you side saddle into his lap, his other hand steadying the drink in yours. Gaz chuckled, taking the spot you had been sitting in, both men unbothered by your startled yelp. 

Despite the fact that Simon had forecully and silently pulled you onto his lap, when you gave him a bewildered look, he seemed not to even notice the fact you were sitting on him, his amber eyes focused on the fame playing even as his finger’s kneaded distracting little circles into the plushest part of your waist, his arm still wrapped around you like you might try and escape. And when you just blinked at him, his only offering was, "Tha’s Price’s chair." 

"Ye look comfy." Soap chided as he came around the corner with a beer and a lo-ball glass of some sort of whiskey, beer for himself and the (presumably) bourbon was given to Simon, both however, were offered to Simon, "Crack that for me, Si?" 

You watched, wide eyed and enamored, as he lifted his mask over his nose and used his teeth to crack the bottle open before taking a long swig and then handing it back to Johnny in exchange for the whiskey. You had a front row seat to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the way a scar split the top corner of his lip vertically (you wondered if you would feel the scar if he was kissing you, focus, damnit, focus). Soap noticed your expression and the blush in your cheeks with a twinkle in his eyes, " ’s not nice to stare, bonnie." 

You stared a moment longer before forefully shaking yourself out of the stupor and taking a swig of your own drink, thankfully ice cold. The momentary pause allowed you to dip back into your usual well of sarcastic wit, offering the Scot a raised eyebrow, "You’re just jealous I’m not staring at you." 

Johnny only shrugged, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, making his broad chest only seem broader, his grin showing just enough teeth to appear wolfish as his thigh pressed into Ghost’s and therefore the round of your ass, "Aye, maybe I am."  

"Ignore him, he’s been watching too much…" Simon started swirling then sipping his bourbon before tugging his mask down again afterwards. You knew the answer to his trail off and your internal body temp went up five degrees, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Johnny elbowed the taller man, so Simon only shrugged and finished lamely with, "stuff." 

Porn. He’s been watching a lot of porn. You all have.  I know that. You know that. We all know that. You brain chanting in time with those stupid circles he was rubbing on your hip as Johnny took the liberty of adjusting the hair off your shoulder, his voice a challenging chide,  "What’s that look for, bonnie? What’d you think he was gonna say?" 

Your mouth opened, and then closed, and you were saved from answering by Price coming into the living room, declaring the steaks were marinating so they had a while to just hang out. He gave Kyle a shoulder squeeze in passing, and offered you a warm smile before settling in his chair by the mantle. The chair you’d tried to escape to earlier. 

For a get-together planned around watching the game, it occurred to you that not a single eye was on the TV at the moment. Instead, you realized they were all on… you. Price in his chair, smoothing his beard. Simon still had you on his lap, amber eyes carefully scrutinizing your expression as you flicked your eyes over to Gaz, who was watching you- or rather the rise and fall of your chest as he pulled your legs into his lap- with a slightly cocked head, a small smile on his lips. And finally, Johnny, who’d not stopped fidgeting with your hair and the neckline of your sweater. 

Once again, you were uncharacteristically at a loss for words, squirming a bit on Simon’s lap as you tried to figure out what to say or if to say anything at all, because all that was coming to mind right now were two options. Are y’all trying to fuck me? and How’s the weather?. Both options made you want to crawl in a hole and stay there. 

"You’re quiet tonight, sweet, something on your mind?" Price raised his eyebrows, still smirking, knuckles tapping against the armrest, "Something you wanted to tell the boys, right? What we talked about in my office?" 

How were you supposed to broach the topic of their internet history, essentially admit to knowing about your XXX twin, while sitting on your superior's lap, having your hair played with, and your calves massaged through your leggings… 

"No, no. Just… enjoying my drink." You muttered, draining the rest of the beverage before leaning over to place the empty glass on the side table, which was a mistake because it just had you practically sprawled over the three men on the couch, "What game are we supposed to be watching tonight?" 

"Never mind that, hen." Johnny shrugged, clicking the TV off before tossing the remote to Price, "We’ve been into a… different form of entertainment lately." 

Yeah. I know. The problem is that I know. You thought to yourself, now not even able to pretend to watch the screen, forced to focus on all the hands and eyes on you. 

"Let’s stop dancing around it." Simon gruffed, resting his head against the back of the couch, his fingers trailing from your hip to the top of your thigh, "She’s not daft." 

"Lieutenant Riley, always the subtle one." Gaz rolled his eyes before sliding his eyes over to Price who gave him an affirmative nod, not unlike they would do in the field, and then his eyes were back on you, "So, we know you aren’t blind, love, sure you noticed something going on here." 

You weren’t sure if he was talking about what you’d dubbed the porn party or if he was just talking about the general bond between the men that went deeper than just elite squad, so you just nodded, hoping he would proceed with some more context clues… any keep rubbing his thumbs around your calf. It was not helping you focus. Kyle just grinned, his hands gently roaming up your shins to your knees and then back down, "Well, we’ve noticed something, too, love. You." 

"Me?" You parroted, half sincere half forced faux shock, that sent you further back into Johnny’s chest, the Scot who was still fiddling with your hair had also pressed his nose into the crown of your hair to smell whatever products you used. "Don’t sound so surprised, bonnie." He murmured into your hair before leaning past you to Simon, planting an open-mouthed, 

wet kiss against the larger man’s mask right beside your own face. Your mouth dried out despite just finishing your drink, tongue seeming too big for your mouth, eyes flicking rapidly between them and Gaz. You were beyond flustered, your stomach twisting in a both nerve wracking and enticing way. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should look, or look away. You didn’t want to look away, seeing Soap’s tongue find Simon’s mouth even through the cotton. Did they want the illusion of privacy and if so, how were you supposed to give them that when Simon was half groping you at the same time Johnny was lapping at his tongue 

through the balaclava? Johnny slid his eyes to you, barely breaking from Ghost, "S’alright, hen, don’t mind you watching us. After all, s’only fair." 

Your eyes widened, owlishly turning to Gaz though Simon kept you from slipping off his lap. Was that them telling you that they knew you knew? Was this some confession about finding your doppelgänger and watching enough of her content to pay off her car? He rolled his eyes at the other sergeant, his easy going smile returning when his eyes came back to you. 

"They’re so impatient." He chuckled with a what can you do shrug, as if they’d simply skipped to dessert (innuendo intended) instead of started sloppily making out with you in their lap. He quit massaging at your calves, instead using his middle and pointer fingers to trace patterns (you could swear it was a mimic of the lace pattern he’d traced earlier). Your eyes flicked over to Price, who was still just watching, leaned back in his chair, jutting his chin back to Gaz as if telling you to pay attention. Sheepishly, you turned back to Kyle, "So, we’ve… discovered this person online, and she looks… so much like you. Genuinely, love, it’s uncanny. And there’s this video she made that really caught our attention-" 

"She knows the one." "Aye, She’s seen it." 

Both Price and Johnny answered at the same time. Price, because you’d brought up the issue to him in his office. And Johnny… had apparently been standing outside your car longer than you thought and could see your screen. Your cheeks had to be glowing by now. Kyle’s smile just grew, flashing perfect white teeth at you as he leaned in closer, "Perfect, then we can skip that explanation. But once we saw it… well, it kind of got under our skin. You’ve gotten under our skin, love."  

Johnny and Simon hadn’t stopped though they had shifted and suddenly there lips were back and forth on each other, and also over your neck and shoulders as you tried fervently to keep your eyes on Gaz as he leaned closer, pulling the sleeve of your sweater off your shoulder to expose that lace strap again, "And, judging by how you’ve been acting lately, we’ve gotten under yours too." 

"Yeah. Yeah. That’s one way to put it." You admitted in a released breath, eyes flicked down to Simon who’d been kissing and sucking right at the curve of your shoulder for several long seconds, like if he wasn’t already under your skin, he’d supplant himself there personally. Johnny wasn’t going under your clothes, but his hands were tracing the line of your spine, finding the waistband of your leggings, nosing into your hair so he could kiss the shell of your ear. All while Kyle just kept that pretty grin on you, somehow putting you at ease and twisting your nerves even more. 

"And, truthfully, we could sit here talking about it all night, Or…"  And Kyle Garrick, with that unfairly, stupidly charming smile of his, made a veritable orgy sound as commonplace and sensible as going to the pub afterwork, and you found yourself dumbly nodding along to his easy words before you anxieties, logical and/or otherwise, could convince you that group sex with your coworkers was probably not the most professional way to spend a Friday night. But, damn, the sparkle in those pretty hazel-brown eyes was doing a good job of easing any worries that charming smile had missed… 

Price finally spoke up again, but stayed in his chair, "You're nodding, sweet, but we gotta hear it. Out loud. Do you want this?" 

When you looked over again, John Price was looking wholly the Captain he was. If you thought he was making a point to manspread in his office earlier in the day, now… Now he was just showing off. He looked like he was posing on a throne, legs spread, elbows resting on the arms of the chair as he settled in, watching the three soldiers and you on the couch.  Seemingly completely nonplussed by his subordinate employees’ heavy petting on his couch. 

Your internal reflection was swift. You were already getting felt up. If going into the office was going to be awkward on Monday, it was going to be awkward regardless of whether or not you cut it off at groping. You might as well let them relieve the nagging itch in the back of your mind while you were at it. So after another dumb nod, you found your voice again, "Yes. Yes. I want it. Please." 

"So polite." Johnny murmured, taking you verbal confirmation as permission to slip his hands underneath your clothes, mapping your bare skin, "And you’ll say something if it’s too much?" 

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded fervently, turning your head to try and catch one of their lips, the sweater had been stifling for the past hour, but now it was itching at your feverish skin. Johnny just smiled, helping you out of the thing. 

"Good girl." Simon nodded before his amber eyes lit up a bit, "Well, would you look at tha’." 

His fingers dipped under the lacy band of the bralette you were wearing. Johnny had already run his hands over the fabric while Kyle just whistled lowly. Price was the one who spoke up about it, "Did you put that on just for us, sweet?" 

"Just in… just in case." You nodded in a breath, leaning back into Johnny as he started rolling your leggings down, exposing the complimentary lace waistband of your panties. Another round of appreciative comments and touches, Simon’s teeth nipping at the curve of your neck again. 

"Too good to us, love." Gaz shook his head, helping his fellow sergeant get your leggings all the way off and tossing them somewhere out of sight, pressing kisses to the top of your thighs, then your knees, and finally one too the inside of your ankle. " So you suspected all along. How’d you see the video?" 

"Go on, sweet, fill him in." Price prompted with that stupid little smirk, the one that tugged the corners of his beard up. The one that made you want to get on your knees and do anything to earn one of those approving nods. 

"I-I can see the websites y’all visit." You admitted breathlessly, watching as Kyle kissed his way back up your legs, how those eyes never broke contact with yours, "I have to clear them for security purposes. I’ve.. I’ve seen all the videos y’all’ve been sharing with each other." “

All of them. So 

that’s why you’ve been so quiet, bonnie?" Johnny hummed, a smile pressed into the base of your neck, watching Simon nip at your neck, teeth digging in harder every time, making you whimper which seemed to only egg Ghost on. 

"Flattered or offended?" Kyle asked, but his smile told you he already knew the answer. Because, with you sprawled over the laps of three men, if you were offended you had a funny way of showing it. 

"I should’ve been." You gulped after breaking off Johnny’s lips for a moment, adding on, "Offended."

"But you’re not?" Price prompted, head cocking to the side as he fiddled with lighting his cigar. 

No. For better or for worse, this roundabout workplace harassment approach had really worked on you. So you just shook your head, opening your mouth as Simon pulled his mask up and caught your lips, tongue domineering itself into your mouth almost instantly. 

"So cooperative, nice change of pace." One of them hummed, but you couldn’t place it, too focussed on the fingers kneading at your inner thighs, slowly working your legs open into a spread so your knee’s were hooked over each side of Simon’s wide spread legs, which exposed the dampened gusset of the deliberately chosen panties. 

"All right, deal’s a deal, Garrick," Simon all but growled into your mouth, your eyes fluttering open to see his amber eyes watching Kyle who was smirking like he’d just gotten away with something, "You get first taste. Warm ‘er up for us." 

Oh. Oh. Just diving right in. Though Gaz was ever the gentleman, charming through and through. 

"May I?" He asked softly, waiting with his fingers hooked in the lacy waistband as he sunk to his knees in front of you. Your breath picked up just from the sight, and it was only Simon holding you to him that kept you from leaning down and catching a kiss from Kyle as well. Since that wasn't an option, you jerked your head in a clumsy nod, punctuating with the cant of your hips towards him that just made him chuckle as your panties were discarded towards the same direction as your pants. 

"Please." You whined, the tone making all of the men snap their eyes up to you, the expressions all reading make her do it again. You didn’t even have time to adjust to the cold air on your exposed bits before Gaz’s hot mouth was covering the sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp as you threw yourself back into Simon’s chest. Ghost only hooked his chin over your shoulder, lazily watching as Gaz licked a flat stripe, first dipping into your entrance, teasing a bit as deep as he could get. Your clit got a little attention from his nose bumping it, make you breathe sharp breaths with little clipped moans. But when he withdrew and  traced his tongue  back up, finding your clit and slipping under the hood, your attempts at demure noises were nixed by a sudden and echoing moan. 

"That good? Yeah, Gaz’s pretty skilled with ‘is tongue." Johnny nodded, nuzzling at your other shoulder as he watched on too, palming himself through his jeans, "Meticulous thing he is." 

"How’s she taste, sergeant?" Price asked, adjusting himself as well. Kyle surfaced for only a moment, replacing his tongue with his fingers when you whined in disappointment. 

"Better than the bloody brownies, that’s for certain." He hummed, his corners of his mouth glistening, eyes flicking up to you as he rested a cheek against the inside of your thigh. You tried to be offended at the diss to your baking skills, but as Kyle dove back in, a skillful swirl and lewd slurp killed any smart comment on your tongue, or rather on his. You weren’t sure if it was even possible to actually decipher, but you were certain he was spelling barrack’s bunny over your clit with his tongue, letter by unraveling letter. All four men seemed to delight in how your breathing sped up, how your head seemed so heavy to hold up that it flopped backwards into Simon’s shoulder. Kyle tolerated your hips rolling twice, but his chivalry ended the third time, reaching up and placing Simon’s hand at your waist to hold you still for him, while his hands kept your thighs from closing around his head. The message was clear. Anything you were getting would come from him and only him. You recalled how so many of his preferred videos revolved around control, pleasure dom, a term you had had to google. All you could do was stare down between your legs and watch him devour you. 

"If she tastes half as good as she looks…" Johnny trailed off, catching the corner of your mouth for a short kiss, his fingers tracing the lace pattern right over your perked nipples, at least Simon was lenient enough to let you arch your chest into the touch, "Right treat you are, hen." 

Your first climax was a quick thing, a full body clench and vulgar moan clawing its way out of your throat, your thighs trembling around Kyle as he licked and slurped his way through your high, collected anything you put out for him. His movements only slowing when your body relaxed back against Ghost. He gave your pussy a comedically sweet kiss before sitting up, and it was only then that he pulled you down to him for your first real kiss from him. It was tender and sweet, with the appropriate amount of tongue, almost the kind of kiss you’d give on a really good first date, if it wasn’t for the fact you could taste your essence on him, your cum making his lips slippery against yours. 

"Called dibs on that weeks ago." He grinned, breaking the kiss to watch his fingers to dip between your legs, collect some more of your wetness and pop it in his mouth, eyes closing like he was savoring a fine wine.  You watched him with mouth agape and eyes half lidded, "Alright then, Tav, surprised you held yourself back this long, go on then."

Johnny’s smile was all teeth as he descended upon you, kissing any of your slick off your mouth that Kyle’d left behind like he was getting a sneak preview. Though, for someone so often ridiculed for being impatient, he was anal about this kiss. Making sure to try every angle of his mouth against yours, then repeating his tests with tongue, and then once more splitting your attention with Simon. Ghost played along for a while, letting his sergeant explore your lips and your chest before he nodded down to the floor when Kyle’d been. 

"Keep yourself busy, Johnny." Was the clipped order, as he took over kissing you, one large hand splayed along your face to keep you drawn to him, as if you might try to get away. He had nothing to worry about, the whiplash of switching partners and desires had you craving attention anywhere you could find it. You were already putty on his lap with Johnny taking over Kyle’s place between you legs. While it was still overwhelmingly pleasurable, his actions were more sloppy than Kyle’s. His strategy was to barrage your nerves as opposed to Kyle’s precision attacks. It still had you whining and squirming, which was enough to short circuit your focus. Johnny didn’t seem to mind you instinctively grinding into his face, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. Simon’s job was to keep you from melting off his lap, which he did while his kisses became harder and harder, sometimes biting at your bottom lip, "Now you just taste like his shitty beer, you’ll lemme fix that, won’t you, lovie?" 

When you nodded, he smiled, tugging the balaclava all the way off. You didn’t even have time to properly admire how handsome he was under the thing, didn’t have time to pepper those scars with kisses or wax poetic about how all his unconventional features played together harmoniously to make him exceedingly handsome. Before you could do any of that, he’d taken a sip of his bourbon, swallowing as he watched you watch him. 

"Open." He directed, nodding when you obediently dropped your mouth open. He tipped your head back at the same time as he took a longer draw of his bourbon, holding it in his mouth for a moment before pulling your lips up to his and kissing the liquor straight onto your tongue, burning off anything and anyone else. When he’d given you every last drop, he pulled back and manually shut your mouth, "Go on and swallow for me, don’t waste it. ’s hard to get this stuff ‘round here." 

Bourbon wasn’t often in your rotation for drinks, the taste smoky and sharp just like the man that had kissed it into your mouth, but one look into Simon’s eyes had you nodding again. As you forced yourself to swallow it, the burn going all the way into stomach, stoking the fires the men had started in you. After he watched your throat bob, he nodded approvingly. 

"Good fuckin’ girl." He praised which made the burning sting worth it, catching your lips in another punishing kiss when you moaned from Johnny’s sloppy slurping. Simon hummed, finding that your mouth now tasted like his preferred pour, "Much better." 

After kissing the taste of his bourbon off you, he pulled back for a moment just to watch you whine and grind against the sergeant between both sets of your legs. After a moment of appreciation for the garment against your skin, the bralette they’d all liked so much was roughly yanked down,  the straps down your shoulders while the cups and band bunched up under your now exposed breasts. Johnny was watching from the floor, his big blue eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile against you, while Simon ran his hands over your bare chest, stopping to squeeze and pinch when he pleased. “Johnny- 

Ghost-" You almost shrieked not sure who to call too or thank for the electric static in your nervous system, arching your chest up into his hands, and when the movement moved your hips away from Johnny, he just took your legs off Simon’s knees and hooked them over his shoulders, keeping you firmly in place, "

Shit." 

"Language, sweet." Price teasingly scolded from his chair, still stroking his beard from his arm chair. Gaz and Simon just chuckled when you pouted through another throaty moan. Simon was nudging your cheek with his nose, skimming his teeth across you jawline between kisses that trailed fown your neck, sucking marks that would stay for weeks, always finding his way back to what seemed to be his favorite spot in the curve of your neck. “Should’ve seen the Sergeants when they first found that video, acting like they’d won the fuckin' lottery. Been wanting you for months but tha’ really sealed the deal, lovie, couldn’t even get through the first quarter before this one was panting and rutting. Like it was the first time they’d ever seen a dirty video. Ain’t that right, Johny?”  It was the most you’d ever heard Simon talk in one go, every couple of words grunted and groaned out between kisses across any skin he could reach with you sitting back against him, breath hotly fanning along your neck as he went. And when he finished the thought, he reached down between your legs and fished the sergeant up by his mohawk, leaving both you and Johnny whine at the loss of contact. Simon just laughed coldly and gave Johnny a prompting jerk, much rougher than he’d been touching you, “You gonna answer us, Johnny?”  “Aye. Aye. Knew I had to get ma’ hands on ye.” Was all he managed before diving in for another taste of you, surfacing briefly again to relay a message up to Simon, half moaned half growled, 

"This cunt's like fucking silk, I’ll tell you, Lt.” Strong hands clenching into the plushest parts your thighs holding them around his face like he was 

hoping he’d suffocate down there, "Ye gotta get in here, ain’t nothing like it."

"You want that, sweetheart?" Simon hummed, moving from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, "Want me in you?"

"Fuck. Yes, fuck me." You rambled which just made them chuckle at you as one of your hands when into Johnny’s mohawk and the other palmed at your breasts. Johnny moaned when you tugged at his hair, sending subtle vibrations up with his tongue that almost sent you undone again. Simon easily pushed you down his legs, still supporting you with one hand as Johnny kept going, and freeing his erection with the other. Gaz and Johnny had worked hard to warm you up, to break you in for them, but Simon’s dick threatened to break you, period. He was just as thick as John, but almost as long as Kyle, cut, veiny, with a pretty pink tip. Como se dice, how you say… hung like a fucking horse.  

He must’ve seen your wide eyes, the subtle fear in your eyes that was chased away when Johnny drug his teeth over your clit with just enough pressure to make you choke on your own spit. Ghost reached down intermingling his fingers with your folds and Johnny’s tongue, "We’ll start easy. Just the tip, lovie. Johnny’ll handle the rest for now." 

They did just that. He held his hand out to Johnny, letting the man on his knees spit into his palm and then rubbed it against his dick, before pulling you back against him once more. Before he even attempted any sort of penetration, he slid his erection through your folds a couple of times just to collect some more slick,  "You are just like silk, Johnny was right." 

He grunted into your neck with another few slippery passes before reaching down as easing the tip into you. He was thick, enough so that it stung a bit as you tried to adjust. Despite his soft voice and unusually soft eyes, Simon’s control slipped, rutting a bit before you were ready. At you uncomfortable whine, Johnny mirrored the sound in disapproval of your upset, immediately going to remedy the hurt with his tongue, servicing both you and Simon with a flat lick up Simon’s exposed length and then up to your clit to help you relax. 

"Breathe for me, lovie." The Liutenant ordered, like he was trying to be gentle with you but his jaw was gritted, trying even harder not to snap his hips against yours and bully his too-big dick into your hole, "Try to relax for me." 

You were panting, cheeks puffing with your breaths, not sure if Johnny’s tongue was helping or just tensing you up more, but God, it felt good and you weren’t going to be the one to tell him to stop. Not yet at least. You got another inch in, which earned a kiss to your neck. 

" s’all I can take right now." You breathed, reaching back to support yourself against him. 

"Better than I did on my first go, eh, LT?" Johnny grinned up before kissing up the length of Simon’s cock that wasn't inside of you, flicking his tongue over the stretched rim of your entrance that was still trying to clench around the sudden intrusion, "She’s tryin’ so hard." 

By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t talking about you. The She in question was just your pussy. Simon nodded along, hissing curses into your hair. 

"Alright, lovie, alright, no more for now." He gritted out, " ‘m gonna move now, just try and stay loose as you can for me." 

Humming in agreement, you tried to let yourself be pliant against him, feeling his hips rock, the in and out of his movements pleasurable enough to draw out a keening moan despite the less than comfortable stretch. His lips were at your neck again as he continued his thrusts, slightly steadier, growing more confident. And then it was his teeth, nipping between sucks, though his words were still growled, "That’s it, doing so good for me, for us." 

Your mistake was losing yourself in the feeling, letting your hips rock because it shattered what little control Ghost had at the moment. He sunk in another few inches, teetering between painful and pleasurable, making you cry out, nails digging into his forearms as a tear slipped down your cheek. The dig of your nails only urged him on, the nip of your teeth turning into a full bite, enough to break skin just slightly. However, the moment your cry was one of actual discomfort instead of pleasure, he withdrew completely, kissing over where he’d bitten, "Sorry, sorry, lovie, got too rough, too quick with you." 

He slowly eased you off of him, nudging Johnny off as well, still kissing at the spot he’d bitten too harshly, fingers kneading comfort into your hips and then your thigh, "Y'alright? Need to stop?" 

You took a breath, let the initial shock of the stretch and the bite fade away, let him swipe the rogue tear off your cheek, let your body readjust…. and then shook your head, signalling you wanted to keep going, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you again for a kiss. Johnny was still at your knees, massaging your thighs, watching Simon deepen the kiss as much as you’d let him, and then pushing a little further, his fingers flexing hard into you again making you wince just a little. Honestly, you could’ve endured that, hell with another couple of kisses, you could’ve enjoyed it. But this time, he cut himself off, pulling back with a slew of curses that’d send a sailor to confession. 

"Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve never been good at taking it slow." Simon growled, jaw still clenched so hard you were afraid he’d crack a tooth., thumbs easing the irritated skin he’d clenched just slightly too hard, "You’re just too perfect, can’t keep my head on straight."

Ghost stopped to think for a moment, breathing hot and heaving against you skin, before flicking his eyes down to Soap who’d stopped massaging your thighs in favor of featherlight kisses where his stubble had chafed you. You’d seen this before, the internet called it cuteness aggression. 

"Price." He called, nodding to his Captain, a signal to take over. John nodded, and after meeting your still lust glazed expression, ascertaining you were alright, seemed rather amused by the tag-in.  It seemed, despite the civilian clothes  and whatever intimacy was shared amongst the group, rank hierarchy was still firmly present, because when Captain Price finally rose from his arm chair, the sergeants and Lieutenant wordlessly moved out of his way, presenting you along the way for him as his belt buckle jingled being loosened and discarded. 

Still, despite his evident imposition, his strength was gentle as he peeled you off his lieutenant who stood, manhandling Johnny off with him to the chair. Half dazed and panting, you were grateful for his patience as he asked with only a little teasing, "Can you stand for me, Sweet, just a little?" 

And when your legs were still jelly and trembling, he just chuckled, leaking cigar smoke into your mussed hair, "That’s alright, Sweet, you just let me lay you out all pretty." 

With that, you were bent over the arm of your boss’s sofa, callous hands traced slowly down your spine and then paused at your hips, massaging your flanks much as he had his cuts of steak. Price massaged his way from your hips, over and around your ass, and then worked from outwards to the inner most part of your thighs. Finally, he dragged a flat palm up your exposed sex, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was licking his tongue across that same hand, a deep rumbling growl shaking you to your core as you watched him taste not only you, but also notes of his boys, "Sweeter than fuckin’ sugar, love. Fuckin’ perfect." 

You just stared at him with wide eyes, limply spread over the arm rest, hips instinctively pressing back into him to find more touch, more friction, more him. Words failed, only high pitched whines made it out. Which made Johnny, off to the side, chuckle. 

"Think this is the longest I’ve ever seen her quiet." The scot chided, watching with great interest as Price took another swipe through your folds, coating his cock in whatever (whoever’s) bodily fluids he collected there. 

"Maybe you should take some notes, mutt." Simon gruffed, taking a fistful of the sergeant’s Mohawk and tugging it rather harshly backwards, exposing Johnny’s throat that his teeth descended upon almost immediately. Some time between being between our legs and being in Simon’s lap, Johnny’s shirt had disappeared, his jeans still on but unbuckled and Simon was fishing his erection out. 

"Ignore ‘em." Price chuckled down to you, physically redirecting your attention by giving your clit a bit of attention as he eased himself slowly in, all the way to his base, "Y’feel even better than you taste, sweet thing, y’know that?" 

You didn’t know that, but you’d take the compliment, if you remembered it, or your own name by the end of… whatever this was. He gave one slow and steady thrust, almost like an experiment, one hand holding your hips in place, the other holding his cigar up to his lips. 

"Dessert before dinner, how about that, lads?" 

There was a moment of recall to his earlier words, "Already had something else in mind for dessert" echoed with what he just said in your fuzzy mind. You had been dessert all along, and judging by the ravenous eyes with varying degrees of satiation,  the 141 intended to eat their fill, your online look-a-like was simply a taste test. A momentary taste of vindication on your tongue- you hadn’t been reading too far into things or fluffing your own ego, this was premeditated, and your matching set wasn’t presumptuous. Still, that only lasted a singular breath, the smug vindication was phsycially forced out of you with a rough snap of his hips, the first of many from the demanding, almost brutal, pace John set for himself. 

"There’s a girl, you just take it for me," He grunted between thrusts, seemingly pleased with your little cries and moans, "Just like that, sweet, you’ll be taking Simon’s cock in no time."  

John Price’s couch was not picked out with ‘being bent over the side’ in mind. Or perhaps, you were just a bit softer than the other’s that had had the pleasure of being bent over the arm like John had you at that moment. Taking mercy upon your ribs, or perhaps just for his own selfish purposes, Kyle slotted himself underneath your front and sat you up against his chest, throwing your arms over his shoulders. While John still had your hips over the couch arm, Gaz had pulled you chest up to his, his lips finding your lips, your cheek, jaw, and breasts as he went. 

"Poor sweet thing" Kyle cooed, his perfect pearly teeth nipping at your ear while is chest steadied you against Price’s onslaught that pushed a thought our of your mind with each quick, but deep, thrust, "Didn’t know what you were walking into, did you? And now look at what a mess we made you?" 

You couldn’t tell if Kyle was mocking you or praising you, kind words and little digs were both dipped in that sugary sweet tone that just made you nod up at him with wide eyes and a pouted lip. One of this thumbs reached up and swiped a mascara laden tear out from under your eye, the same thumb dipping into your mouth and holding it open in the pornographic O-shape after Price drew a vulgar moan out with a particularly deep thrust that also managed to scoot the sofa a couple of inches. Gaz didn’t even waver, just laughed a bit as he held you steady, "Mean, innit he?" 

Another moan blocked the chance at a snappy reply, not that you had the current brain power to make one. The sergeant just took the chance to swallow your noises with his mouth over yours, kissing you and biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. With what little fortitude you had, you grabbed the collar of that soft sweater and hauled him right back up to your mouth. It was aggressive kissing. Tongue and teeth and nails, sloppy and  dirty, your noses bumping together from the force of Price’s thrusting. 

When Price adjusted your hips, it forced you onto your tip toes to maintain the angle. And while the new angle provided incentive and reward in the way of relentless pounding of that delicious spongy spot inside you, that fact only made it harder for your already shaking legs to support you. 

"Hold her fast, Sergeant." Was the grunted order as he gave your ass a smack, like he was punishing you for the indiscretion of already having you legs fucked out from under your from the other men in his living room. Honestly, How dare you? Kyle took orders beautifully. The best multitasker on the squad, as he not only, held you at that perfect angle for his Captain, but also, trailed wet, hot kisses down to your chest, locking onto one of your nipples with devious precision, only sucking harder when you cried out. 

" ‘m gonna cum-!" It was strangled and whined into Kyle’s shoulder still fisting the collar of his shirt while your other hand posed serious risk of shredding the upholstery. 

"You gonna cum on me, sweet? Go ahead, but I’m not stopping." Price chuckled through his warning, leaning over your head and pulling Gaz in by the back of his neck for a sloppy kiss of his own. 

"Go on then. Give it to him." Kule urged in that sickly sweet tone, "The captain’s working so hard back there for you, least you could do is let ‘im feel how pretty you fall apart." 

Another moan, a garbled cry of both of their names mashed together when they pushed you over the edge in tandem with a well timed deep thrust and light smack to your clit from Price at the same time that Gaz tweaked both of your nipples.. 

"You feel that Cap? That flutter?" Gaz called, talking (literally) over your head as you sagged, twitching against him, unlatching from the hickey he was sucking into your collarbone, "That’s fuckin’ magic, that is." 

"Flutter? She’s wringing me dry in there." Price groaned, his pace only slowed by the vice like grip your core had as your eyes rolled back, "Sweet’s cunt’s practically swallowing me, bloody hell, greedy thing, aren’t you?"

The only reprieve you had was Price leaning forward so his warm chest pressed to your back, his big hands circling your clit like it might encourage you loosen back up for him so he could resume his movements, "C’mon, love, you gonna answer me?" 

"Yes…" You drawled, flopping your head over so you could meet his eyes over your shoulder, that signature mirthful smile twitching the corners of his beard of as he tweaked the little bundle of nerves to correct you. With a little cry, you answered once more, "Yes, sir." 

"Atta girl." Price nodded approvingly as he took a long draw of his cigar his pinkie shaking off little bits of ash onto your raised posterior (which should’ve made you feel degraded, or maybe it did which is why it made your eyes flutter again), both at the answer and at the relaxing of your muscles allowing him to build his pace back up.  

"Hear that, love?"  Kyle’s attention returned down to you when your face dropped back down into the curve of his shoulder, "what a good pussy, taking us all so well, and she just keeps wanting more." 

"More?" You croaked out through another moan, panting and trying to count the stars dotting your vision, not sure if you were requesting or parroting in disbelief. Though with a clearer mind, you wouldn’t have been so shocked. Price had barely stuttered in getting his rhythm back up to it’s pace, riding you all the way through your orgasm. 

"Told you, ‘m not fucking stopping." Price growled with another smack to the round of your ass. Something between a moan and a cry crawled out of your throat, but tapping our hadn’t once occurred to you. 

"You can take it, love, bet you can even give us another big finish, yeah?" Kyle encouraged. It occurred to you the Gaz had now coaxed you through two orgasms, and really hadn’t even asked for anything in return from you. And while you were sure, between the four of you, someone would throw him a bone(r), you decided to take that cross upon yourself, reaching down between him and yourself and wrapping around his dick. From what you could tell, he was on the leaner side, but he was the longest in the group, slightly curved. Which gave you plenty of room to rub and squeeze, from base to his tip where you thumbed the slit, spreading the precum back down as you followed the vein on the underside. Kyle tried to chuckle through a moan, "Bloody hell, love." 

Jerking off took on a new meaning as your movements, meant to be languid and smooth, turned jerky and choppy with the force of Price’s increasing speed, his rythym stuttering as he chased his own release. Kyle leaned down using one of his free hands to roll a nipple in his fingers, catching the other in his mouth as you continued to pump him. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to come close to the edge once more, and you didn’t even have time to be proud of bring both of them over with you in tandem as your third orgasm tore through you, leaving all three of you dazed and breathless. You were vaguely aware of Gaz’s cum on you chest, kind of feeling the warm, sticky trail it left as it leaked down your front while John gave a few more lazy strokes as he softened inside of you. Though Gaz twitched hard again just watching your eyes roll back, and when Price was finally done, he gave your thighs a gentle, almost proud squeeze, watching his spend leak out for a moment before gently collecting you upright once more. With a sweet forehead kiss that contrasted so heavily from the cigar ashes and ass slaps, he gave your cheek a little pat, "Still with me, sweet?" 

"Mmmhm." You nodded, eyes only half opned as Gaz sat up behind you and sucked kisses across the back of your shoulders. You’d be wearing turtle necks for weeks. John’s attention shifted over to Simon, who you now realized had been watching the show with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen with poor Johnny taking the brunt of whatever storm Ghost had brewing. Your eyes fluttered watching the liutenant’s hand tighten around Johnny’s throat. Despite the tears on the Scot’s face, he didn’t appear to be too upset with his current predicament, in fact giving you a groan through a watery smile as Simon’s other hand tightened even more around Johnny’s leaking dick. 

"Got it all out of your system, Lieutenant?" Price asked with a raised brow, both him and Gaz still keeping you upright with gently roaming hands. Simon gave both his hands another squeeze making Johnny pant. 

"I’m solid." He nodded, surprisingly tender as he released Johnny, the sergeant stumbling off his lap.  Simon rose behind him, both men approaching the couch. You weren’t positive what ‘it’ was or why it needed to be out of Simon’s system, but Gaz nodded and pressed one last sweet kiss to the curve of you shoulder before letting Simon slide into his place. The largest of the men simply laid down on the couch, taking up most of the three-seater, efficently pulling you backwards so you straddled his lap facing away from him. 

"Nice and slow for me, lovie." Simon directed, lining himself up with your entrance after bumping your clit with his tip. Thank god for his strong hands guiding your hips down at the pace he set. Though Price had thoroughly broken you in, and you’d already partially taken Simon once, you still tensed up nervously but set your jaw with determination to do it again and get all of it from this new angle. With your back to his face, you had a front row set to the others watching hungrily. Kyle was leaning back against Price’s chest, the older man reaching around to palm the sergeant’s erection as Gaz pressed his back to Price’s front, grinding backwards. But Johnny, poor Johnny, with his cock almost purpled by Simon’s earlier teasing, rocking on his heels like he was just waiting for permission to join in, sapphire eyes bouncing between Simon’s face, your face, and the stretch of you pussy around Simon’s cock- like he couldn’t decide who was most jealous of. 

Inch after deliciously painful inch, Simon helped you ease yourself down until your ass was flush with his hips. From this angle, though Simon could still rut up against you, the pace was all your decision, making it harder for him to lose control again. With your hands braced against his tree-trunk thighs. Simon gave you a minute to adjust, to pant and try to focus your eyes. The soldier underneath you grunted, fingers flexing on your waist as he adjusted himself making you whimper and almost fall forward. 

"Si-" Johnny whined, his hands twitching forward like he wanted to help you, or maybe just touch you, his cock leaking down his leg. Simon’s voice was not as gentle to his sergeant, a gruff order. 

"No’ yet."  Before returning his attention to you, voice softening slightly, "Take your time, sweetheart, move when you want, I want you to feel good." 

Giving a jerky nod, you gave an experimental wiggle that nestled him somehow even deeper. Your moan was lodged in your throat as your eyes shut, but the movement earned a deep groan and hiss from Simon. With a deep breath, you managed to move past the acclimation stage so the actual pleasure started building again, which felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon. Next, a roll of your hips that genuinely blurred out your vision, feeling so good that our body instinctively did it again to chase the feeling. And then again, and again- head falling forward and then rolling back. 

"That’s it, lovie, find your rhythm." Simon tried to prain but it sounded more like a growl as his hands flexed again into the softest parts of your waist, his long fingers spanning so far that they kneaded into the plushness of your stomach, "Fuckin' hell." 

"Si-" Johnny whined again, drawing the clipped nickname into two syllables, this time his twitching fingers finding purchase in the arm of the sofa you’d been bent over earlier. If you weren’t so focused on Simon’s cock rearranging your internal organs, you might’ve heard the ominous creak of the fabric under his strength. When your eyes fluttered open, they locked onto Johnny’s bright blues, darkened to a stormy hue with impatient want. His Scottish brogue thickening deeply, "Ah keened you’d be better than the lass in the fuckin’ videos, so fuckin’ sweet and pretty-" 

"Alright." Simon gruffed  before his voice softened down again, "Go on, sweetheart, show the mutt some love, won’t you? He won’t shut up until you do." 

Even though the permission had been given to you, Johnny was immediately upon you. Much like Gaz, Johnny took up the job of supporting your upper body as Simon had your hips firmly in his grasp. With one knee pressed into the couch cushion, he hugged your chest to his, his hands groping and feel any part of you he could get his hands on like it was the first time he’d touched you or any other soft and pretty thing. Unlike Gaz, his mouth on your started out aggressive and when you would moan, he’d mirror the noises, groaning them right back onto your tongue. 

"And soft. Ye sound better too." Johnny groaned when Simon suddenly rutted against your rocking, leaving you crying out and digging your nails into Johnny’s shoulders. With strong but surprisingly gentle grip, your fingers were removed from his shoulders. Johnny led one of your hands in an exploratory trail down his chest, following the path of thick, dark body hair, past his abs, until he wrapped your hand around his cock which twitched even at your slightest touch. 

"So fucking soft, bonnie," he breathed, coaxing your hand into movement while kissing your other palm, before looking over to Simon, "Not a callous on her hands, Lt, dinnae even think about that." 

Simon merely grunted in acknowledgement of Johnny’s discovery, seeing as his focus was an entirely different part of your anatomy. The larger man seemed content letting his sergeant be the vocal one, sometimes rewarding you with a hiss or a strangled groan. He’d given up on letting you control the pace now that you were acclimated and half bouncing against him, rutting and grinding against you in time with your own rolling and rocking as you sped up. It was only natural for your hand on Johnny’s cock to speed up as well. 

"Sweetheart, why don’t you show him something even softer than your hands? He went through a lot for you, after all." He didn’t give you time to ask what that was supposed to mean, but you figured it had something to do the vicious series of bites and hickies on the man’s neck. You could tell Simon was moving because his cock was shifting angle inside of you, making you gasp. One of his large hands splayed against the small of your back, pressing you firmly forward and down. A sudden thrust as he applied pressure to your back made you go boneless, letting the men push your cheek first into Johnny’s stomach and then down to where your hand was still pumping Johnny’s cock. 

"Look at that, a multitasker. ’s why she’s such a good analyst for us." Gaz chided from the sidelines like he was commentating on a sports match, watching as you were stroking Johnny, holding your cheek against him while trying to catch your breath from Simon’s thrusts. Johnny helped guide himself into your mouth. It wasn’t so much length as the girth, even thicker than Price, that stretched your jaw uncomfortably. But the way that Johnny moaned sinfully above you when your nose pressed into the dark curls at his base, the way he all but melted over you like butter, encouraged to breathe through your nose and keep going. 

"Steaming Jesus, Si, I cannae last like this-" Johnny moaned, seemingly not even noticing how loud he was. Simon only laughed lowly, reaching around your thighs to dip between them, circling your clit. Your thighs were trembling, moans getting louder and less restrained, nothing about this was restrained anymore. 

"That’s alright, Johnny, neither will she, will you, lovie?" He asked with another deep thrust, "feel ‘ow she’s shaking?"  

You were shaking your head still with a mouthful of Johnny’s cock, because you weren’t going to last much longer, eyes rolling and fluttering, landing on the arm chair again where Gaz being treated as well, both him and John watching appreciatevly as Ghost and Soap had you in lopsided Eiffel tower. You were pulling out any trick for Johnny that you managed to remember between Simon’s thrusts, swirling tongue and bobbing heads. But what did him in was actually Simon’s doing. When Simon rolled his hips into you just right, hitting every good spot and giving your clit a swipe, your eyes crossed and you moaned, practically screaming around Johnny’s member, the vibrations and look on your face enough to finish him. His hand tightened in your hair, hips snapping, pushing your nose into his pelvis, and holding you there as he came with what some might call a battle cry.  After everything Simon had put him through earlier, he was pent up, leaving him cumming. and cumming, and cumming, until you had to swat at his thigh because you couldn’t take anymore. 

You swallowed what you could, taking a couple more spurts to your face and chest before Johnny crumbled onto the couch against you, kissing the taste of himself right off your tongue as Simon continued his thrusts, getting incrementally faster and harder as you proved you could handle it. The scot took over the praising and encouragement as his superior fell back into the quiet grunting and groaning against you, though you could barely make out any of the words as you approached your fourth finish. For the first time in your life you understood the phrase "fucked stupid". You were somewhat sure you were rambling gibberish accolades to the men, cries of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ’thank you’ intermingled with moans and curses that put your over the top XXX twin’s to shame. 

"C’mon, sweetheart, one more f’ me." Simon growled out, switching positions so quickly and effeciently that you didn’t even realize it until you body was pressed face down into the couch cushion, Simon still behind you, drilling into you with a pace that put mechanized machinery to shame. You weren’t even sure how you were taking it just that you were and if he stopped you might start crying, "I know you’re close, just lemme have it-" 

Johnny was back on his knees in front of the couch, catching your nipple in his mouth. And you turned your head towards John and Kyle, locked in their own encounter, and then it just snapped. Your orgasm not just washing over you, but a tidal wave crashing over you and frying every nerve a long the way. For a moment your vision whited out, the only thing you were aware of was Simon’s strokes slowing and working you through it. With your body practically vibrating with overstimulation, you let your unseeing eyes roam to to the cieling fan and let your mind wander as you floated somewhere above reality for a bit, enjoying the electric feelings between each neuron firing. Every noise and sight becoming background information as overstimulation fuzzed it all out except the aftershocks and twinges in your core. 

You weren’t sure how long it was before you came back to yourself, but you heard Johnny’s voice first, "C’mon, bonnie, float back down to us."

"There she is." Kyle cooed in tandem with the other sergeant while your cheek, "Lost you for a bit there. Alright?" 

You were more than alright, body more sated than it’d been in years, still thrumming and twitching with the aftershocks, so you just nodded slowly, trying to focus your eyes in on one thing at a time, voice slightly slurred with nothing to do with the drinks, " ‘m alright." 

"Was worried I broke you." That was Simon, who’s lap your head was in. You only offered a dopey smile and a lazily blink.

"You might’ve, but I’m ok, more than ok." You sighed with a dry laugh, turning your head so your cheek pressed to his thigh, though you noticed he’d slipped his sweats back on. 

"Si’s gotta work on being gentle, we don’t make him practice enough." Johnny teased, running soothing hands along your sides. Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw was placed in front of your face, and when you looked up it was Price holding it down to you before Kyle took it and held it steady for you. 

"Never see you complaining about it, McTavish." John teased right back, trading off the cup so he could smooth hair off your sweaty forehead, "Take as long as you need, sweet, y’did good for us. So good." 

His praise nestled deeply, right between your ribs, making you smile softly as Kyle coaxed the straw into your mouth, letting you sip on the water as he ran a caring thumb over the apple of your cheek.

— 

You must’ve dozed off, because when you woke up, you were still on the couch, but everyone else had moved around you liked you simply always been nestled amongst them. The thought made your lips curl in a dopey grin as you looked around them. Half upright and wrapped in someone’s hoodie, you were laying against Price’s chest, head tipped back into his shoulder as he worked around a plate filled for two, the atmosphere was cozy now, the electric  frantic tension from earlier had morphed into something warm and intimate. 

“Evening. Hungry?” His chest rumbled as he held the plate closer to your field of view. Two very juicy ribeyes, baked potatoes, green vegetable- the stereotypical macho man plate. John seemed all too proud of himself when you opened your mouth to accept a fork of perfectly cut bite-size steak, laughing when you hummed in approval, “There we go, sweet, worked up an appetite, yeah?” 

“Really? Thought we already stuffed ‘er pretty good.” Kyle teased, still gently swiping warm rags over your body, wiping away any evidence that wasn’t etched or sucked semipermanently into your skin, occasionally following his ministrations with gentle kisses and soft praises, “Feel ok, love? Need anything?” 

When you shook your head, gently squeezing his wrist in gratitude, he only smiled, giving you a tender kiss to the forehead before retrieving his own plate and sitting on the opposite side of Price, claiming the captain’s other shoulder for his own head.

Johnny was in the same boat as you, though whatever the hell Simon had done to him made his attention to you look like princess treatment, having obviously reigned himself in with you. Was that what Ghost was getting out of his system before coming back to you? Still, the scot didn’t seem to have many complaints after Simon sat him down between your legs on the couch, letting the sergeant lay facedown against the softest part of your stomach, where he’d nuzzled the hoodie out of the way so he could rest against your bare skin. It was then you noticed that you and Johnny were the only ones still in a state of undress which if your mind wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace, you might’ve tried to read into. 

Like you, he seemed half asleep and fucked out, a couple more bites around his neck that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been touching you. Soap’s mohawk gave you something to gently fidget with as Price nudged another bite against your lips. Simon took his seat on the floor, leaned back against the base of the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of your hip. One of his arms wrapped around the leg that Johnny had dangling off the couch, massaging gentle circles into the mans calf muscle. His other other arm was propped on his knee so he could catch your wrist where it flopped down on his shoulder. He was tender as he ran his ungloved hand over yours, massaging your fingers and comparing them to his much larger hands, murmuring himself, “No callouses.” 

“Told you, Si.” Johnny sighed almost dreamily into your bare stomach, leaning into your fingers in his hair. With the rest of the men doting on you and Johnny, Simon didn’t even retaliate or tease something back, just snickering quietly and fondly, offering straw topped water bottle to the sergeant. 

Another bite of food was offered to you, along with water, and something struck you funny, drawing a quiet chuckle out of you as you turned your face into Price’s neck to stifle the noise. It drew the group’s eyes, clearly waiting for you to divulge. “C’mon, hen, share with the class.” Johnny prompted with grin, always down for a laugh, propping his chin up on your belly so he could look at you through the valley of your cleavage, eyes shining like you’d hung the moon. 

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” Price rose his eyebrows, cutting another bite of meat for you. 

“Nothing, it’s dumb.” You snicker a little more, earning a expectant but amiable tug to your fingers from Simon, “It’s just all a little backwards, s’all.” 

“Backwards?” The liutenant parroted in that deep Manc accent, making you giggle a bit more, nodding against Price.

“I let y’all fuck me every which way from Tuesday, and you didn’t even buy me dinner first.”  You mused, ironically before taking another bite of one of the best steaks you’d ever had, which could be an effect of the post-sex endorphin rush, or maybe John was just a grill master. “Our apologies, sweet thing.” John rolled his eyes playfully, his apology deeply sarcastic as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“In our defense, dinner and a very nice bottle of wine were on the agenda before, but some people,” Gaz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny and Simon who didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Simon was stone faced as usual, still playing with and kissing at your fingers while Johnny just smiled into your belly, “got impatient.” 

“Hey, the first time Simon fucked me all I got was the drink mix and wet nap from his MRE.” Johnny whined which only made you laugh harder. 

“Y’didn’t ask for anything else.” Simon shrugged tilting his head to press an uncharacteristically romantic kiss to the curve of the Scot’s knee. “ ’sides, I got your mouth on her didn’t I? think I made up for it.”  And before you could question if Simon was really the one to orchestrate all of this, Price quieted you with a bite of potato while Gaz leaned over to distract you with his lips on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

  And for the first time since you’d seen their search histories, you weren’t worried about much of anything other than when this might happen again.

 ____ 

me, who doesn’t ever really write smut: yes i will enjoy writing a fivesome with at least ten hands, five mouths, ten arms, and four penises to keep up with. 

Y’all should see the notesapp where I had to like draw out stick figures to see if what I was writing was anatomically possible. I feel like this has gotten me on some kind of watchlist. 

Taglist in Comments because there were too many of y'all!! Thanks to anyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! Whenever I'm feeling uninspired, I just scroll through y'alls comments and they make me smile so so much!!!

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. You’re stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[alwaysshallow]

boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost x of!f!reader au :)

It hadn't even been him who found you. It'd been Kyle.

Look at this lush little doll fuckin' herself on your cock.

Simon's chilled glass clinked on the marble tabletop of the bar as he placed it down, brows furrowed in response. He hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what the fuck Kyle was doing watching porn in public because he slid the phone over in a flash, and as soon as Simon's gaze shifted to the phone, his words instantly lodged into his throat.

You really were fucking yourself on his cock. Well, a replica of his cock. Simon found himself unable to look away. You were riding it, puffy lips spread wide as your cunt took every thick inch of the toy. The way you undulated your hips with every rise and fall had a familiar hunger gnawing at his insides, your fingers— so much smaller than his own— circling your bundle of nerves stoked the fire in his lower belly.

His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth when he noticed your soft thighs begin to tremble, the pace of your hand, glistening with your slick— oh, he'd pay for a little taste— quickening as you reached your climax. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip the same way he knows yours did too (it's a shame you're hiding that face of yours, he'd love to see if your eyes cross as you peak), and before the video got to his favorite part, Kyle quickly swiped his phone back.

Johnny's here. Wave 'im down.

Bastard. Good thing he took note of your name.

He'd signed up that same night and tugged his cock to that same video, this time with volume. You keened so prettily, a voice like honey and milk. Gasps when you lifted yourself until just the tip of it remained inside, mewls when you lowered yourself until your lips were flush against the silicone balls (those were inaccurate, he had a full, heavy set thank you very much). Simon stroked himself at your pace, a muted groan escaping him when you gave the toy a pointed thrust, cunt squelching as you did.

The sound you'd made as you climaxed was exactly like he'd thought it'd be, a hiccupped noise that came from the back of your throat, so real, genuine. It'd easily tossed him over his own edge, muscles taut and stomach tight as he spurts thick ropes of warm spend on himself, coating his dark trail of coarse hair under his navel and pubic area.

His cock had barely begun to soften, the loud ringing in his ears starting to fade when he came to a startling realization.

You'd whimpered his name— his stage name— as you hit your peak.

Simon quickly rewinds the video back a couple of seconds and watches intently as your hand stutters, frothy white desire at the base dribbling down in viscous drops (seriously, just a taste), your breath hitches, and—

There.

A warbled, slurred Ghost.

Well, well. Lucky him. He sends you a hefty tip, (for your service, pet) and turns on notifications for your profile. He'd hate to miss a live video of yours.

(His mind is already whirring with the thought of fucking you on his bed, just to see for himself if you really can take him the way you did the replica.)

[pythonmoth]

cw: flashback, sort of. military inaccuracies. lots of cursing. implied sexual activity but nothing explicit, this pov is just bloody shameless. blood, war, canon violence. author is projecting their own friend group, who cares. everyone's a little shit, including reader. mention of past gaz x price. (author is giggling at this).

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

word count: +6.4k

EDIT: if you read this the day I posted it (monday), I've edited a few details by midnight. nothing too important.

First | Last | Next

If anybody had told him he would go through this a few months ago, he would've laughed at their faces.

He's too busy for this mess, really. He goes on a solo mission for a whole month and when he comes back all he knows is that his favorite lass is hospitalized and that Ghost and Soap were involved, and that it's John's fault. He had thought "well, they definitely broke her now", and had laughed in his mind at his silly joke, and then the soldier in front of him told him what had actually happened.

"Tortured. Nails all gone. Capt'n Price ordered it. Big mess".

Not even an hour in since he comes back and he has to see that bastard get away with it, and leave you with the physical consequences of it all. It was enough to make him burst a fucking blood vessel. He couldn't possibly smack John —he did once, and it did not go well for him—, but fuck, he was absolutely tempted, and he genuinely felt no sympathy for his team.

The rest of the lasses are worried about you, bombarding him with questions, but they have nothing to do with it and he does not have the time to stop and talk, so he just lifts a hand and doesn't bother replying as he sidesteps them.

He'll find the time later on.

After he got the doctor to clear a bed for you, he barely had the time to do his entire paperwork. He works quickly so he can be there with you. He can only eat and work, treating the minor injuries he got, work again, and as soon as he's finally free, he goes to the clinic. He can see Ghost and Soap waiting anxiously by the door. Your door.

Kyle sighs as he gets closer. He can understand their feelings, but he honestly can only feel annoyed at their stupid display.

Hell, if they were so worried, they should've refused! The Captain could've chosen anyone else. He knew it was hard and that they had orders, but if he had been here, he would've seriously smacked everyone.

If you had to be tortured for whatever reason, why the hell do it themselves? Isn't that fucking ridiculous?

This team is the most important thing for him, and they simply accepted to torture their favorite lass —the one they've been dating for a year, no less—. Kyle just can't understand that. If the torture had to happen, as the Captain was ordered, they should've refused and forced him to choose someone else.

Everyone's fucking stupid, really.

Not you. It's not your fault that you're surrounded by complete dickheads.

Not wanting to startle them, he makes sure to make noise with his boots, and grips their shoulders to silently force them to sit down. Ghost and Soap are a goddamn mess, both of them trembling, on edge. They're quiet, more than he thought they'd be, considering what they did, but seeing them like that, the guilt clear in their eyes and body language, Kyle starts calming his own anger down. They weren't in the mood to be yelled at, and he didn't feel like lecturing them either. It's enough for him to see how tightly they're holding hands, knuckles white, for him to try and make them feel worse.

He would, but he isn't an asshole either.

With nothing left to do but wait, he sits there next to them, waiting as the Captain's muffled voice comes from inside your room. Just a few minutes later, he comes out, and the three of them bolt up. Kyle's heart trembles slightly as he sees you on the bed, your back to the door.

"Sergeant Garrick" the Captain calls, and Kyle is a little surprised to hear how happy his tone actually is. "She's hungry. Would you mind bringing something? She's okay with you being there".

Kyle nods, patting Ghost and Soap's shoulders in sympathy. Just a tiny bit.

He rushes to flirt with fight the lady at the mess hall, securing a good meal for both of you. He couldn't eat because he was so worried about you, so now that you're awake and okay with seeing him... hell, he'll eat whatever the kitchen lady wants to give him. He'll even take those disgusting rolls of rice the lady loves making.

Anything for you, really.

Half an hour later, hands full with food, he gently knocks on your door. When you don't respond quickly, he peaks inside. "Hey, it's me. Come in peace. Brought you food".

"Gaz" you cry out, rushing to stand up. Kyle feels his heart drop to his feet, eyes wide, and immediately jumps forward, nearly dropping the food in his haste to catch you when your knees give out, hissing in pain as your feet touch the ground.

"What are you getting up for, you idiot?" he scolds, his arms under your armpits to keep you up —it's easier than he remembers from past missions, and he does not like that—, biting the bag of food between his teeth as he helps you to the bed. "Dumbass. Come on".

To keep himself from crying at the sight of your weakened state, he tells you about how he fought the lady at the mess hall, setting the food on the floor only after making sure you're comfortable. You stare at him in silence but he's fine with that, making sure he only touches your arms and shoulders so he doesn't accidentally hurt you.

"You look like shit" you mumble, interrupting him. Kyle looks down at you and, with his heart full of warmth, he grips your nose between his fingers, shaking your head slightly.

"Missed you, too. Now, come on, let's eat. I'm starving" he says, not giving you a moment of silence. He's glad you don't fight him as he helps you settle properly in bed so he can sit next to you. With quick hands, he places the food between the two of you so it's easier to eat.

He talks about his mission, exaggerating it just a tiny bit. He didn't take seventy men down, he took only like... thirty. He also didn't dismantle an entire Cartel on his own, but he did kill anything he saw moving in one of their safe houses and managed to capture the leader alive when she was running from the back. He had a grin on his face —he didn't add that little part— as he managed to shoot her on the leg to slow her down.

He also doesn't tell you his heart was pounding with excitement when he saw the panic in the sicarios’ faces, wishing he could hunt them all.

Just that, really.

Halfway done with his own food, he realizes you're just listening to him talk and haven't eaten more than a single bite. "Weren't you hungry?" Kyle questions, his voice a little muffled as his mouth is stuffed with food.

"I guess. I don't know" you mumble, your shoulders slumping even further.

Kyle reaches out to steal a piece of chicken from your plate and takes a bite, munching happily as he starts talking again, mouth full. Gratefully, you don't realize he slowly starts feeding you the bites he steals, filling your mouth and watching you chew.

He can't have you fall asleep for another three goddamn days without taking a bite, so when he manages to trick you into eating more than half of your meal, he relaxes.

He has no intention of treating you like a victim, even if part of him wants to just cradle your face and protect you from whatever is gonna happen in the future. He doesn't think you're weak, you're just... hurt, so he stays the same. At some point of his rambling, your head lands on his shoulder. Kyle watches you sleep, his lips curling up as you drool on his uniform. He gently moves the food from the bed, making sure you stay comfortable resting against him.

Careful not to wake you, he lowers you on the bed and gets the rough hospital blanket over your shoulders. He tries to step away so you can rest properly, but one of your warm hands curls around his wrist in your sleep, so Kyle just drags a chair with his foot very carefully, and sits right next to you until he also falls asleep, his head on your bed.

You sleep for so, so long he's nearly afraid he gave you food poisoning.

Dr. Wilson catches him on his way to the bathroom, and sends him to wake you up. He takes just two minutes for himself and rushes back to your room. As he gets closer to you, your arm squishing your face as you drool against it, he smiles. You're snoring, your eyelashes sticking together, and you look so ridiculous he can only stare for a little moment, cursing himself for not bringing his phone. He never uses it, but now this is a wasted opportunity.

Eventually, he does wake you up, helping you prepare for the exams they'll have you take.

The art of tricking you into eating... he's a master at it, already. It brings him no happiness to use tricks but it works, and he'll take it for now.

While the medics check on you, he catches up with John.

Ghost and Soap are nowhere to be found, probably in the smallest corner in the barracks drowning in their own misery, but John looks like he wants to either kill everyone or himself. Maybe both.

"I know I fucked it up" John tells him. Kyle watches as he pours himself a drink, which... he technically shouldn't, but neither of them says anything about it. "This is my responsibility. Hell, if she decides to leave the team, I won't be bloody surprised."

Kyle keeps silent, the resentment towards his own team slowly building, even if he tries to bite it down. It's hard not to be angry at them. They didn't even give it a single day, didn't even wait for him to arrive. This whole situation is just bullshit.

"At least we can agree on that. That's a first".

"Can I ask you to—"

"I ain't convincing her that you weren't absolute dickheads and didn't rush the situation, John" he cuts him off. "You fucked up".

John gives him a warning look, but only sighs, nodding and gulping down the rest of his whiskey. "Well, then. We've got work to do".

On the third day of you being awake, Kyle is there when the Captain tells you you're leaving the next morning. He doesn't miss the way your shoulders tense slightly whenever you look at Ghost and Soap, or how your eyes go warm whenever you look at him. If this had been another time, he would've been jumping up and down just because you're looking at him this way, but right now, it's slightly... hurtful?

Maybe that's not the word.

Annoying, definitely, in a way. He doesn't want to be a replacement for Ghost and Soap, and Kyle knows you're not that kind of person, but maybe you're doing this subconsciously. A traumatized mind can do a lot of shit to a person. He just wished…

Something else. Perhaps.

That night before you leave, he is the only one who stays with you, as he had the past few days. Kyle's just surprised you decided to actually share the bed instead of having him sleep on the floor. He totally eats it up, however, smiling brightly as you giggle, glad that his good energy is making you happy before sleeping.

With your head nestled against his chest, your arms gently curled between the two of you as he holds you lazily, one of his hands caressing your hair, he wishes he could stay like this. You seem so peaceful, so distantly different from the person he saw a few days ago that it's just perfect right now. It's comforting and warm, and as you two relax, the conversation slowly turns from idle gossip to a bit more serious, finally reaching Ghost and Soap.

No. Simon and Johnny, he corrects himself.

"You don't have to forgive them. Fuck them. I hope you remember that" he mumbles against your hair. Kyle makes no attempt to subdue his anger, not wanting to hide that from you. "Maybe you'll learn to understand why they had to do it, but that doesn't mean you have to be cool with it".

"And I'm not" you mumble back, shaking your head as you shift, looking up at him. "It's hard to just... look at them and not think of it. It happened like a week ago, anyway, so I can't be blamed. Right?"

"Fuck no. I'd say you give them hell a few months" he reassures you, nudging you slightly. It's enough to bring a smile to your face. Kyle keeps his arms loose around you, as you keep on shifting, restless.

"I don't know. I understand, I guess. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in their position, but... I don't want to think about that right now".

"Of course" Kyle hums, his hand gently rubbing on your back. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

It's warm, and it's nice. Your breathing is slowly calming down and he knows it won't take long for you to fall asleep. It is pretty late, after all. He's lost in his head for a while, wondering if he should take your things to the truck while you're asleep or if he should do it in the morning when you're getting ready to leave. It takes him a moment to realize you're staring at him. Kyle raises an eyebrow, playfully poking your back.

"What do you want? Is there something on my face?" he asks, moving so he can look down at you properly, his eyebrows furrowing, a feeling of worry growing in his chest.

When he shifts, trying to get comfortable as your eyes follow him, you surge forward, pressing your lips to his.

Kyle's heart stutters a bit, his eyes slightly wide as he looks at you when you pull back not even a second later. His body is frozen, half lifted from the bed.

"I'm sorry. I'm really-"

He cuts you off.

Of course he'll cut you off if you look like you're about to burst into tears if he dares flinching away.

It's a soft kiss. There's nothing but calm and affection in it. Kyle's fully aware of why this is happening, of the need for comfort that's definitely growing in your brain. He keeps it gentle, even if your breathing is ragged, even if your arm wraps around his neck. He sooths you with it, and he hopes it helps. He's okay with it.

Kyle welcomes it, calming his heart. He... also doesn't mind it. In the slightest.

Its only when he cradles your face, feeling the warm tears over your heated cheeks, the kiss slowly becoming salty, that he pulls back. He holds you closer, letting you cry into his chest, pressing another soft kiss to your hair. It takes a while for you to calm down, but Kyle just holds you through it, caressing your back, your hair.

It's you who breaks the comfortable silence.

"Are you angry?"

"What? No. Why would I be?" Kyle asks, genuinely confused. Your question feels so anticlimactic he nearly groans.

"Because I kissed you?"

He hums, his hand never stopping where it's caressing your back. "No. I'm not mad. It was a good kiss." You groan instead, hitting him on the ribs with your elbow. He laughs, patting your back so you settle against him again. "Nothing wrong with kissing your mates".

"Shut up!"

"Fine, fine. Well, look" he sighs, reaching out to the lamp so he can turn it on and look at you properly. "I think you needed that, and maybe I did too. I don't think I'm a replacement, either. Or am I?"

"No!" you shriek, your face heated.

He won't tell, but his shoulders relax as you reassure him. Kyle doesn't mind kissing the nerves out of you, but he's glad to see the genuine glint in your eyes.

"Then that's fine. Just kissing the mates goodnight".

"Garrick!"

"All I'm saying" he says, grinning down at you, and placing a hand on your head, "is that a kiss can just mean that. Did it feel good? It helped?"

You purse your lips, frowning at him. "Yeah".

"Then that's alright. Don't question it much".

"Should've asked. I'm sorry".

That makes him grin, his chest warm. "It's cool. Just don't do it in front of the rest. They wanna kiss their mates, too, but they need alcohol for it".

"What? You'd be embarrassed?"

"No. You would be, though".

"Why? It's not like- ugh!"

He playfully grabs your face, not letting you move, and kisses your cheek loudly, making you laugh for the first time since you woke up. He manages to keep your good mood, not letting you dwell on whatever that kiss could've meant. At some point, he can't keep up with your energy, and slowly falls asleep, his mind filled with contentment, and warmth.

Saying goodbye to you for nine long months was one of the hardest things he's done. Kyle doesn't like being near Ghost or Soap or the Captain when there's a big hole missing. It's their fault you're missing, and he knows his annoyed looks convey that. He's professional, but it takes him a while to get along with them again. Mostly, he's forced to.

Ambushed.

During a mission, they get caught in enemy territory. Kyle's not sure how it happened, just that it was just too fast for anybody but him to react as two cars suddenly burst from fucking nowhere. He manages to jump out of the way, but the rest aren't so lucky. When they drive away at high speed, no doubt suspecting they're all dead —or will be, anyway—, Kyle gets up and checks on the rest, knowing they have to move. If they want to survive so close to the enemy's base, they need to rush.

"Fucking hell, they got your leg" Kyle grunts, helping Soap up. His bulky leg is dripping onto the ground, his uniform soaked in just a few minutes, but he looks focused. Maybe a little too much, but that'll have to do.

John has a wound on his left shoulder, but he can walk for now, so it's only Ghost and him that ain't hurt. It's their job to find quick shelter so they can treat Soap and John before rushing back to their camp. It's not easy but Kyle manages to find an abandoned small house that isn't armed to the very core with bombs. They all ignore the old bodies in the place, especially a smaller one in the back.

It's impossible not to take a moment, all of them freezing as the clothes of that smaller body rustle with the harsh air. Suspended in time, however the kid met their end.

In silence and not wasting another moment, they walk inside as carefully as they can.

Kyle and Ghost do their best, treating Soap and John for an entire night, but they can't stay there. So they risk it. Ghost drags John, who looks extremely lightheaded from the blood loss, while Kyle carries a bloody Soap on his shoulders. It's a long, long walk back to the camp, especially with the enemies so close.

Kyle says goodbye to you in his mind.

You should be here with the team, but he's also glad you aren't. At least you get to live on.

Fortunately, he gets the opportunity to feel silly for being so worried not even two hours later when they make it to their hidden camp. Once they're all in their jeep, however, he sees Ghost slowly passing out, just now noticing his uniform was darker than usual.

That's fucking blood.

"Do I have to do everything in here?! I'll skin you all if you die!" he growls to himself, knowing the rest aren't even conscious or interested in his anger. Kyle pushes the jeep to it's limits, the team bouncing off the seats slightly, and the hot air making his eye twitch.

It takes him a few hours to be back, worried out of his mind. He's the only one who didn't get hurt, and that's fucked up. He gets to help his team but at what cost? If they die, that's on him for not being fast enough, for not being good enough at his work. For being too focused on his own safety instead of looking out for his team.

Ghost's side is fucked, Dr. Wilson tells him. Of course, she doesn't use those words, but that's pretty much what she means. John's shoulder wasn't actually damaged, there was no fracture, but he lost a lot of blood. Same thing with Soap. It had been a close call, in any way.

Kyle spends the next five days making sure Ghost is comfortable, the drug-induced comma he's forced into fucking up his planned Months of Hatred. He really had planned on pulling faces at them when not in immediate danger, on going as far as ignoring them, but because he had been pissed at the three of them and his mind didn't instantly click to treat them as a priority, they're all hurt. He wasn't good enough and he will never forgive himself for that.

Because of him, you could've lost them all.

Dr. Wilson insisted he doesn't have to be here, but he can't just leave them alone again.

The sunlight coming from the windows, he sits right next to Ghost, rubbing his own face in profound desperation. He doesn't have the heart to text you. He wouldn't even know how to tell you in person that your dear Ghosty and Johnny got hurt, but texting or calling is not his strongest skill so it's out of the question. He would only make you worry even more.

Besides, you weren't talking to them, as he'd gathered from their conversations, so he doesn't think you'll miss them much.

At least, he forces himself to think like that.

By the time Ghost wakes up, the first thing he asks for is his phone. Kyle only gives him a look but he quickly brings it. He gives him space, knowing he'll probably want to be alone when he texts you. Kyle hears his grunts of pain stopping, and then his voice going all soft.

Ah, a call, then.

Pretty soon after Ghost recovers, by the fourth month of you being away, one night Soap suddenly rushes over to the Lieutenant, and Kyle would be damned if he didn't understand the little tears clinging to the sergeant's curly eyelashes. Really, he doesn't even feel guilty anymore. They both seem so happy, now out of danger, the love of their lives is texting them back and he's actually very happy for them.

Even John seems a lot better, seeing these idiots happier.

No matter how hard Kyle tries to fight it, he loves these idiots. Even the people closest to you might hurt you, and you'll hurt them sometimes.

It's been nine months.

Despite his better judgment, Kyle's managed to text you every now and then, and, even though it pains him greatly, he takes your calls if you text him beforehand. At least two days before so he can be ready for it. Kyle would rather die than to willingly call someone; if it's not an order, he just can't be bothered. But this is you, after all. Kyle makes an exception for you.

Now that everyone's getting along a lot better, nearly the same as it used to be before this whole bullshit situation, Kyle does spend time with them, having drinks by the bar or just in John's office. Everyone clearly needed that, because they get drunk ridiculously quick. Including him, honestly.

"Ya know, I've never asked" John begins, sipping his whiskey as he turns to Ghost and Soap. "How did y'all get together anyway? If you're gon' be explicit, I don't wanna hear it, though—"

"None of your business" Ghost grunts, taking the mask off, since it's only them. It's not like it's the first time, anyway.

"Shut your mouth" Soap says, waving a dismissive hand to Ghost. He sips his whiskey and grins at John. "It was pretty funny, actually".

Kyle remembers that day perfectly.

Over a year ago, he had realized the moment you and Ghost first started dating. It wasn't super obvious, nothing really changed, not even when you thought nobody was looking, except maybe that Ghost was extra touchy. He also pretended not to see the little marks on the Lieutenant's back whenever they changed.

Good for them, he thought.

The little dates you shared weren't a secret, either. Whenever you had the time, Kyle saw you walking into the common area to watch a ridiculous movie, or a show, or whatever. He could barely hear it from the kitchen if he happened to need a drink, anyway. All he knew is that, at some point, Soap joined the movie nights.

At first, Kyle thought it would be a problem because, to him, it was painfully obvious the sergeant had a thing for Ghost, but if you two were together... where did that leave poor Soap? Eventually, Kyle himself ended up joining a few movie dates, out of boredom really, and, one night, after enduring two long hours of the heaviest sexual tension he's ever felt and trying to pretend he wasn't more interested in whatever was happening behind him instead of the actual movie, he just drops on the carpet and pretends to sleep as he listens to you talk.

"Dunno... is it wrong?" you murmur after a while, sitting on the couch right behind Kyle.

"Hell if I know" Ghost grunts back.

The silence is thick with something, but Kyle would rather die than to get up and miss whatever is happening. He breathes slowly, but not so much that he doesn't seem to be asleep.

"Every time he looks at you with those silly eyes I kinda just wanna..."

"Smooch him?" Ghost snorts quietly, earning him a smack on his arm. "What, you wanna kick him instead?"

"Both, I guess" you admit slowly, and Kyle can't help but grin.

Really, the army is fucked up. Everyone's together for so long that the lines between romance and friendship sometimes get blurry. Hell, Kyle himself had a thing with John for nearly a year. That did not happen, if anybody asked them, and they never brought it up after they decided to break it off. They're still a little petty, however.

The credits roll slowly, an obnoxious song playing as Kyle listens to Soap's soft snoring where he's curled next to him in the carpet, by Ghost's feet. It's funny, though, he's sure the sergeant is also pretending to sleep. Soap's one hell of a snorer. That's cutesy snoring.

He calls bullshit.

Sure enough, when you very quietly admit that you wouldn't mind if dear Simon was interested in little Johnny, and Simon admits he's actually smitten by the sergeant, Johnny sits up so quick he nearly kicks Kyle in the face.

"Wait, say that again".

And when their conversation turns a little too serious, too bloody personal, Kyle stops pretending and absolutely bolts away, earning a few snickers from the three of them.

Little shits knew he was listening.

The road to your house is a little too... exciting. You've been talking to all of them by texting and calling, and they could see how much you've improved in therapy. The therapist wouldn't tell the Captain much, and he told them even less, but you were doing better, and that's all that matters to them. Soap's nearly bouncing off the seat, Ghost's hand on his thigh to keep him still. Kyle's riding shotgun and the Captain's driving them. Unfortunately, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole, and they all have to sit through the Captain's music for the whole ride.

It isn't so bad, but it's something Kyle's father would listen to.

... He decided not to think too hard on that a long time ago.

The city is pretty calm, and Kyle likes that. He can tell the rest are excited to be back, both because of you, and because this is the smallest city they've ever been in —where they didn't have to kill anybody, that is—. Not even fifteen minutes into the city, the Captain is already parking outside your house.

Kyle goes first, knocking on your door, the Captain right behind him, his steps calm, but he notices the other two faltering behind them, as if scared, hesitant. He can't blame them at all, it's been a while they since also saw you in person, but right now, he's only focused on seeing you again. Your face through the screen isn't good enough, and he's terribly excited.

He has to knock twice, but as soon as he sees you he wraps his arms around your middle, grunting happily to feel your weight back in place, no longer too light. He carries you further into your house so the rest can get in as well.

"Hey, sweetheart. Looking good" Kyle hums, beaming at you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheekbones before letting go of you.

He watches as you say hi to the rest, but there's something in your behavior that has him sharing a look with John, and when Ghost takes his mask off, Kyle can see the worry in his face as well. Okay, so they'll go slow. He meets Soap's eyes and they both nod. They'll be as careful as possible, not wanting to startle you at all.

That proves a challenge.

With everything happening to you, and probably triggered by their presence in your safe place, your home, you're snappy and terribly annoyed at everything they do. Not him directly, but you can't handle his touch, so Kyle keeps his hands to himself for now.

And, naturally, he had to take the initiative yet again. Everyone's so goddamn awkward, so watching a movie is way better than just staring at each other in silence. Soap and the Captain offer to buy snacks, so that leaves him with Ghost and with you.

Yippee, seriously.

Fortunately for him, you're less anxious now that there aren't so many people in your home and immediately crave his touch. He hugs you and checks on your fingernails, making sure you didn't anxiously bite them off again.

Kyle kisses your cheek, your hair, making sure you're feeling better, and grinning down at you when you give him grateful smiles. He barely notices Ghost shifting, uncomfortable. If he said he doesn't feel guilty, that'd be a lie, but you need him right now, so he doesn't stop to explain Ghost what's going on. Not that he knows himself... not really, anyway.

A while later, the Captain and Soap are back, and you're looking so much better. You're enjoying your sour candy, making Kyle eat them to giggle at his despair —he hates those things—. Soap and Ghost throw some annoyed looks in his direction, but you don't seem to catch them, probably protecting yourself from any kind of anxiety by just focusing on Kyle alone.

But then, Soap kinda fucks up.

Getting more crisps from the kitchen, he accidentally drops a plate, the shattering sound making even him flinch. You get up so fast you end up smacking Kyle on the face in your haste of getting away. He pauses long enough to watch Ghost hesitate, and then rushes after you. Kyle finds you easily in the guest room. You're on your knees, shaking so much he wonders if you're breathing at all, and he can see your hands gripping the rough carpet. He dives for you, not closing the door in case you panic even more and hugs you tightly.

It's like you can't process his words for a few moments, until you suddenly go limp on him. Kyle's deeply worried for a second, but then you're speaking and he feels his heart beat again.

Now, he won't lie and say he doesn't feel a little, really, just a tiny little bit used when you seek his lips again, but he puts aside his own feelings to give you what you need. It's not about him right now, it's about what you need.

So, really, imagine his fucking surprise when you shut his smart ass with a proper kiss. He's so startled he can barely keep up with you, his mind spinning with contentment. Maybe he's enjoying this a little too much, but just this once, he decides to indulge himself.

Your warm hands cup his cheeks, the kiss deepening so much that Kyle can hear the harsh smacking of your lips as they sloth together. With his arms around your middle, pulling you closer and closer until your front is completely flushed against his, your hands find the back or his neck, of his head, and he sort of... just melts. Kyle let's out a shaky exhale that makes you pull back for a moment.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, feeling your nails dig slightly onto his skin. "I'll be damned" Kyle mumbles quietly.

Neither of you do or say anything for a long heartbeat, only breathing each other in, staring.

Then, he just can't hold back. And apparently, neither can you.

Well, fuck him. What the fuck.

It's only after a while, when neither of you can breathe anymore and the fierce need seems to slowly melt away, that Kyle finally pulls back, panting heavily against your shoulder, a hand gripping your hip. He's seriously fucking glad you have the decency not to question why he's shifting away from between your legs even if he doesn't let go of you.

He doesn't think he can stand that question right now.

"I'll be damned" Kyle murmurs, repeating himself.

The only thing that keeps him sane right now is that you burst out laughing, clearly flustered. He laughs, his cheeks aflame as he helps you up.

When the whipped cream touches his face, he just can't stay still anymore, his mustache quivering as he holds back his laughter. These ridiculous kids don't hold back at all, filling his face with whipped cream and placing more and more gummy bears on top. Finally, he opens his eyes and stares directly at you, your giggles stopping immediately as you rush to stand up, trying to escape him.

Price grips your arm swiftly and pulls you closer, holding you against him as he uses your face as a napkin, rubbing the whipped cream all over your cheek and hair, your screams of delight filling your house, the rest joining immediately after, even Ghost's amused huffs make it to his own ears.

Its a little messy, but he can only grin brightly, seeing you happy enough that you're no longer avoiding Ghost and Johnny. He doesn't bother questioning why Garrick is all over you. Really, at this point he's just happy you're content.

After a few hours of playing around, of getting teased for pretending to be asleep, you invite them to sleep over.

Price wasn't expecting that, but he doesn't say no. Neither do any of the other idiots, not that it's a surprise, and, while the others get ready to sleep in the guest room, their voices loud and actually happy for once, he gently pulls you aside over to the kitchen, away from possible eavesdropping.

"What's up?" you ask, your hair still a little wet where you had to wash it, just like his damp beard. Price grins down at you.

"Are you okay?"

"Hm? I am. Why?"

You look so confused as to why he's asking such thing that he almost believes you. He does, just a little bit, mostly because the therapist did tell him you're doing better now.

"You panicked on me just now" Price says anyway, his eyes inviting, hoping he doesn't scare you off again. However, you only give him a small smile.

"I was terribly anxious I was gonna be scared of you, that I ended up... kinda forcing myself into being scared? If that makes sense. My therapist's been helping me realize a few things" you mumble, rubbing the back of your head.

Price places a hand on top of your head and nods. "As long as you're okay. If you change your mind about us sleeping here, I'll drag them out".

The smile you give him, the dismissive wave of your hand, tells him enough. Still, he waits a little bit.

"It's fine" you reply. He blinks when you flick his nose, actually grinning. "I'll also lock my door, and I have a few knives under my pillow. That helps".

"Fair".

It's pretty late when Price hears Garrick walk into the guest room, even if they're all still awake. Ghost and Johnny only give him a look, but say nothing, carrying on their conversation as usual. They've been looking a lot better than they had when they left before the whole whipped cream prank, so that's something positive, at least.

As Garrick gets closer, Price sees the little gloss on his lips and he has to bite back a smirk.

Kids these days, really.

You had excused yourself after a while, yawning for nearly an hour until you decided to just go to bed. Garrick followed after you not even ten minutes later.

He didn't know what to make of it, didn't know if he felt annoyed or not, but Kyle gave him a not a word look, so Price only gives him a smirk.

Well, then.

Now with everyone curled on the bed, legs half-dangling from the mattress, Price sighs loudly, making the rest turn to him.

"If I lose my team over this... new generation's type of relationships or whatever the fuck is happening here, I will skin you all alive".

"Noted".

"Copy that".

Ghost only looks at him, and shrugs, flipping onto his back before closing his eyes. "Price and Garrick fucked".

That makes Price gap in complete disbelief, turning to look at Ghost when Johnny bursts out laughing, Kyle burying his face in his hands. "Why are you even saying that? That did not happen, don't know what you're talking about. I just think it's ridiculous to—"

"Oi!" Price snaps at him, frowning, feeling just a little bit offended. He doesn't even want to know how the hell Ghost knows.

"I saw you with her" Ghost says instead, cutting over Johnny's laughter. Price sighs, turning to Garrick, who's staring at the pair. "We both did".

Johnny sighs deeply, his laughter dying out, one of his arms under his head. Everything is quiet, Garrick's breathing slow, his face unashamed but a little guarded. Eventually, Johnny speaks up. "It's cool".

"Is it?" Garrick asks, blinking at the two of them.

"If she's happy, it's fine" Ghost replies instead, rubbing his face.

"Doesn't mean we'll stop fighting for her, though".

"Fine by me" Garrick hums, shrugging.

Price stares at them in complete silence, listening to them talk about this as if they were discussing the fucking weather. Shaking his head, he turns his back on them and pretends he can't hear the slowly warming tone from Johnny when he talks to Garrick.

Ah, he should retire.

im having the time of my life, birds are tweeting outside, the woodpeckers are going insane, my cat's on my lap and my old pup is by my feet, tf141 is a loving polycule (price is like a father to reader so not w her, but the rest? *shrugs*) and im tired of pretending it isn't.

gaz calls price "john" when he's either pissed, worried or content.

» why gaz (nearly) taking down an entire Cartel isn't as ridiculous as you might think it is: that's happened here in México before.

there is someone we call "El Marino Loko", a crazy mexican marine; he and his team didn't care for sicarios' human rights. they would beat them up, would force them to wear women's clothes, would make them kiss each other, humillation in general yk how it is. they never took prisoners :) the government and the mafias themselves wanted that marine dead, but he disappeared.

he's still alive, as someone's personal guard but nobody truly knows *twirls hair* there's no way to know how many sicarios he killed, but he and his team killed hundreds if not a thousand (or more). that's pretty hot, if you ask me.

anyway, since it's just gaz I couldn't say he killed a hundred alone, but definitely a few. follow me for more interesting facts that emilia pérez could never tell ya lol

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @rayrayyio @diseasedclitoris @alex1011sdzfgh @thebumbqueen @hyunjaebaby @jillvalentinesrealwife @sodavrr @kneelforloki @vioxsoo @l4vstrr @leon-thot-kennedy @t3a-bag @dotmistbird @littlezarp @eclipsedcherry @codeseven @babydoll-143

[frudoo]

I need the 141 as a group of slashers. Their shared wife gets harassed at the store and tells them when she gets home?

Might send more asks for slasher 141 if that's okay

You can ALWAYS send me slasher!141 ideas are you joking?!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment (NOT by the 141), typical mentions of weapons and violence. Fem!Reader.

It’s pouring down freezing rain, the cold seemingly nudging past your skin and settling itself into your bones. Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, letting out a defeated wail when you miss the lock for the fifth fucking time. Throwing your keys in your purse, you settle for knocking, then calling out that it’s just you. You’d rather not have one of your lovers answering the door with a machete to your throat. They always have had a flair for the dramatic. 

     It’s John who answers the door. Immediately he takes in your shivering figure and his bushy eyebrows furrow with concern. Scanning the vast land of the farm and finding nothing that could be perceived as a threat, he gently takes the purse from your hands. Strong arms hustle you inside and he kicks the door shut, working quickly to get you out of your sopping wet clothes. 

     “Darlin’, what happened? Why’re you cryin’?” John asks softly, hanging your coat on the rack—he can tell it’s bad by the way you flinch just from the question. 

     Simon, Johnny, and Kyle trail into the living room to greet you, but when they see your state, it’s like you can feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a weathered rubber band. Simon comes to scoop you up, uncaring of the drenched clothes you still have on, and carries you up the stairs. He jerks his head to signal that everyone else should follow him. 

     While Kyle runs you a bath, John finishes undressing you, tossing your clothing into the hamper with a wet plop. You’re still shivering, tears streaming down your chilly cheeks, and it breaks their hearts. John cups your face in his big, warm hands, crystal blue eyes scanning for injuries or any reason you might be so spooked. 

     “You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

     His voice is soothing, and you lean into the comfort of his touch. He always has been the best at calming you down, rich gravel filling your ears until you remember how cherished you are in his eyes. In all of their eyes. 

     “T-there was a man,” you stutter, head whipping around violently with your fist raised when Johnny wraps an arm around your waist to help you into the bath. “No!”

     “Hey, hey, jus’ me, hen,” Johnny’s eyes widen as he throws his hands up in surrender, backing away to avoid getting hit. 

     “I’m sorry,” you weep, covering your face with your trembling hands as Johnny tries again, this time successful in getting you settled into the warm water. 

     “Wha’ did he do?” Simon’s raspy voice sounds from the corner of the room, eerily calm. “Wha’ did tha’ fucker do?” 

     “The man… I-I was at the store to get groceries, but there was- he… he grabbed my ass and my tits and f-followed me out to the car. I drove away really fast so he couldn’t come after me, but… I’m sorry, I didn’t get the groceries.”

     “Oh, sweetheart,” Kyle frowns, gently reaching out to grab a hold of one of your hands. “The fuckin’ groceries are the least of our concerns.”

     You nod noncommittally, sniffling and just barely squeezing Kyle’s hand to let him know you appreciate the gesture. John’s jaw is clenched tight, and you can practically hear the rage brewing in his brain. Such a sweet thing traumatized by some stupid fuck who wanted his hands full of their soft, perfect girl. He wants—needs—to make him pay. John turns on his heel and just about rushes through the door, but your gentle voice stops him in his tracks.

     “John? Please stay,” you beg so, so prettily, pouty lips still swollen from how hard you’d been crying, and John’s far too weak a man to deny you. 

     Hesitantly, the captain trails back inside the bathroom, giving the other three a curt nod. They understand instantly, and Simon is cracking his knuckles so loud you’re almost sure the city can hear it. 

     “Bring the bastard back alive,” John commands, and faster than you can blink, Kyle, Simon, and Johnny are out the door.

     “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes focused on the ripple of the bathwater when you submerge your hands.

     John shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that you look him in the eye. He leans forward and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, a silent question. When you nod he leans in to kiss you long and slow, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you stop to catch a breath.

     “No need to be sorry, sweet girl. You’ll get a turn on him soon enough.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

could we possibly get 141’s and niks reactions/hcs to a tall (possibly taller than them) and toned/muscled f!reader? If you get what I mean 😼

Not me cackling and screaming at the top of my lungs, y’all. All of these men are tall and strong anyway! (Proceeds to go outside and scream over this.)

MDNI

John Price

Your #1 hype man. Brags about you constantly.

Loves it when you wear heels because it purposefully makes you taller.

Loves it even more when you wear heels during sex.

Has you get things off the top shelf. Not because he can’t reach but because he knows you’ll do it. (Also, he’s old and has a bad back.)

Won’t allow you to give him piggyback rides.

Loves saying “Be polite or my wife will kick your ass.”

Will only get on his knees for you.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Immediate simp. No question.

Dared you to an arm-wrestling contest when he first met you.

Lost said contest, but not on purpose. He did try.

Doesn’t ask you out but watches at a distance. He thinks you’re not interested. Wants to take the chance but is a little nervous.

Absolutely talks the rest of 141s’ ears off about you. Literally will not shut up.

Thinks it’s cute when he has to go up on his toes a bit to kiss you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Favorite thing about you are your legs.

Secretly enjoys being little spoon.

Will punch someone in the fucking face for picking on the height difference

Loves it when your thigh muscles squeeze his face as he’s eating you out.

Gets a bit flustered when your face is close to his. He’s thankful for the balaclava.

Asks “how’s the weather up there?” just to piss you off.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Absolutely crushing on you but a little intimidated. But Gaz isn’t afraid. He boldly asks you out.

You’re the only person allowed to pick him up.

Finds it hilarious that you grab things off the top shelf to hand to him (because he can reach them, too.)

Loves it when you hug him from behind and rests your chin on his shoulder or nuzzles his neck.

Never worries about losing you in a crowd.

Both of you go to the gym together. You always out bench him.

Nikolai

It’s love at first sight (on Nikolai’s side.)

Dares you to a wrestling contest (and not the arm kind.)

Loses said contest on purpose because his dream is to be topped by a larger, stronger woman.

Promptly flirts and asks you out on a date. You reject him, but his ego isn’t blown.

Tells everyone who will listen that he’s going to make beautiful, massive babies with you.

Grins like a big idiot when your face is close to his.

Constant positive affirmations about your body.

main masterlist

[a-b-riddle]

Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Sex & Super Smash Bros. - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan finally makes a move on his best friend.

Contains: Oral - m and f receiving, p in v, a smidge of dirty talk, praise, and one ass slap lmao.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: When I first started writing this, I was OBSESSED with the song Sex & Super Smash Bros. by Kyle lmao.

So, I have a few other fics in the works atm(This one wasn't even the one I wanted to post first, but it's been half-finished for like, two months🙃). BUT I posted the other day that all of my requests disappeared, so if anyone has anything they wanted written that hasn't been yet, PLEASE let me know. I was saving all the ones I hadn't written until I got the inspiration for them.

Ethan Landry was your best friend. Sometimes you’d go out to dinner by yourselves, or go see movies together, but they were never dates. Well, maybe they were. He always wanted to pay, and he’d walk you back to your apartment door every time, but there was never any affection aside from a hug.

You were so close that you even drug him into Victoria’s Secret during a mall trip because you noticed they were having a sale. He had to pretend the whole time that he wasn’t imagining you in the things you picked out, and good god why did you need the skimpiest panties and bras they had? He felt a little jealous as he wondered who you wanted to wear them for, but the truth is, you didn’t need to wear them for anyone. As long as you felt good in what was underneath your clothes, that’s all that mattered to you.

Ethan was always talking to Chad about you because he thought he had no game whatsoever to even stand a chance. He thought he was stuck in the friend zone, because you just felt so comfortable with him.

“You’re not in the friendzone,” Chad said, glancing over to his friend as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I think she’s into you.”

“Dude, I’m starting to wonder if she thinks I’m even interested in girls,” Ethan said, as Chad burst out in laughter. “I’m serious! What girl takes her straight best friend into Victoria’s secret?”

“She feels comfortable with you,” Chad said, trying to convince him that he’s just overthinking it. “That’s a good thing. You never know, maybe she wanted you to know what she wears underneath her clothes.”

“Do you think I should stop hanging out with her so much, and maybe she’ll see that I should be more than her best friend?”

“That’s a stupid idea. Just ask her out on a date.”

“You think I haven’t tried that? She still treats me like I’m just a friend,” Ethan sighed, thinking about all the ‘Dates’ he’s taken you on.

“You need to put moves on her. Like, show her that you want more. Start with something simple, like putting your arm around her or holding her hand. If she doesn’t pull away, she’s interested.”

“It’s just getting to that point…I get so nervous,” Ethan said, before he got an idea. “What if I invite her over to hang out? Maybe I won’t be as nervous if there aren’t a lot of people around if she rejects me.”

“Now that is a good idea,” Chad said, smiling in approval. “Just let me know when so I won’t walk in and interrupt.”

You never brought Ethan up to Tara because she always brought him up first. Like clockwork, the girl’s nights the two of you had consisted of face masks and a movie, then after, she’d always bring up your best friend.

“I think you should talk to Ethan,” Tara said, as you sighed and rolled your eyes. “What? You’re obviously in love with him.”

“That’s the thing…if it’s so obvious, he should’ve noticed. He’s not interested,” you said, as you brushed the topcoat over your nails you’d just painted.

“You know he’s a little shy. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t yet.”

“I think you’re a little delusional,” you joked, as she grabbed one of the gummy bears out of the bag she was snacking from and threw it at you. “Thanks,” you said, grabbing it off the bed beside you and popping it in your mouth.

“I’m not delusional. You hang out with him all the time, by yourself. You go on dates!”

“If they were dates, we would’ve slept together by now,” you said, as she started to smirk.

“Have you thought about sleeping with him?” she questioned, as you felt your cheeks start to heat up. She got her answer when you refused to look at her. “I knew it! He’s tall, too. You know what they say about tall guys.”

“Okay, we’re not talking about how big he is,” you said, shutting down the conversation as she giggled.

Ethan had asked you to come over to hang out many times before, but this time was different. He kept typing and deleting the message he was going to send you, before settling on ‘You want to come over and hang out after class today?’. He rolled his eyes at himself for not wanting to start with that in the first place.

You: Sure. I get out of class at 6. Is that okay?

Ethan: Yeah, I’ll order food so it’ll already be here. See you soon!

Once Ethan checked the time and saw that it was close to six, he felt his palms start to get a little sweaty. He was wondering if he had it in him to do the things that Chad suggested, because what if you weren’t okay with it? The last thing he wanted was for your friendship to come to a halt because he made you uncomfortable.

He heard his phone ding, and he shook his head once he read your ‘I’m here’ text.

“You know, knocking is a thing,” he said, once he’d opened the door for you.

“I know,” you said, smiling at him as you took in the aroma of Chinese food. “Oooh, that smells good.”

“I got your favorite,” he said, following you to the kitchen.

After you ate dinner, Ethan was trying to figure out the best way to make his move. He thought about watching a movie and putting his arm around you, but you had another idea in mind.

“Let’s play Super Smash,” you suggested, as he started to laugh. “What?”

“I win every time. Is that fun for you?”

“Well teach me how to play then,” you said, as he walked over to grab the controllers.

“I can’t show you how to play if I’m the one playing against you.”

“Play someone online. I’ll watch and learn all the tricks,” you said, as he shrugged.

“Okay.”

He noticed that you were trying to keep up with glancing at the tv and seeing what his hands were doing. He got an idea, his nerves kicking in as he turned to look at you.

“We could try something different,” he said, as you curiously looked at him. “Come here.” He spread his legs for you to sit between them as he got more comfortable on the couch. “Okay, just put your hands on mine and you’ll feel what I’m doing.”

“Okay,” you giggled, placing your hands on his. You felt him take a deep breath as your back rested against his chest.

Ethan didn’t know how he was keeping his composure in that moment, but he didn’t want it to be obvious that he was freaking out. Your hands felt so soft on top of his, and the way his arms were wrapped around you to play had his heart racing. You were trying so hard to pay attention to the buttons he was pressing and what happened when he did, but the only thing you could think about was how skillfully his fingers moved.

He was playing against someone that was really good, but Ethan started to press all these different buttons and won the game.

“I don’t know how you just won that,” you said, angling your head so you could look at him. He looked down at you and smiled.

“You helped me win.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said, as you turned your head back to the tv. His mind was racing, thinking that was the perfect opportunity to try to kiss you, and he didn’t want to let the confidence he was building up slip through the cracks.

He placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head back to face him as he leaned down and placed his lips against yours. You were a little surprised at first, but quickly kissed him back. You felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, your mouth instinctively opening so he could deepen the kiss. You loved having his mouth on yours, but after a while your neck really started to hurt from the angle.

His eyes shot open once you pulled away, his lips pouty and swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

“Neck cramp,” you said, as he nodded and directed his attention back to the tv. You smirked at him as he got ready to start another round. “Oh, you’re done kissing me?”

“Not at all,” he said, tossing the controller on the coffee table before he pushed you back on the couch. He got settled between your legs, and placed one of his hands beside your head on the couch cushion before he leaned down to connect his lips to yours.

Your hands were in his curls as his tongue fought yours for dominance, your legs tightly wrapped around him to keep him close. He was trying to be in the moment and distract himself at the same time, because he knew he was going to get hard. Once your hips started to squirm, he groaned into the kiss, unable to fight it anymore.

“Okay,” he mumbled against your lips before he sat up. “I need a minute.” His eyes connected with yours that were glazed over in lust, your breathing still heavy from the kiss. You had a feeling that he was really starting to get into it, and you didn’t want to stop.

“We can do more than make out…if you want.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was back on top of you, your legs around his waist again as he started to grind himself against you. You were whimpering into the kiss every time you felt his hard cock brush against your pussy.

“You want to go to my room?” he asked, pulling away to read your face.

“Please.”

When Ethan asked you to hang out, you didn’t think it would lead to the two of you shedding your clothes, both so desperate for each other. Once he was in nothing but his boxers and you in your bra and panties, he recognized the set you were wearing from the day you went shopping.

“Fuuuck me,” he groaned, “I don’t know if I want to take these off you.”

You crawled up on his bed, his eyes still on you as you got comfortable.

“It’s cool. I’ll take them off,” you said, smirking at him as you reached around to unhook your bra. His breathing got even heavier the second he took in the newly exposed skin, but once you reached down to slide your panties off, he sighed in disbelief that his best friend was getting naked for him.

He got on top of his bed with you, but before he crawled on top to connect your lips again, he hesitated. You were wondering if you somehow read the situation wrong until he finally started to speak.

“Before we do this, I need to tell you how I feel,” he said, running one of his hands through his hair as his eyes refused to meet yours. He was nervous, which was more than obvious as you sat up and waited for him to tell you what he needed to tell you. “I’ve had feelings for you for so long…and I know you aren’t supposed to feel that way about your best friend, but I can’t help the way I feel. If you don’t feel the same, maybe we shouldn’t do this. I don’t want to get my heart broken because I’m thinking with my dick right now and tomorrow I’ll be sad that the girl I want more than anything doesn’t want to be with me.”

“Ethan,” you got out, before he started to speak again.

“If you don’t feel the same, it’ll suck, but I still think our friendship is more important than the feelings I have, and I hope things don’t have to change between us,” he rambled, as you giggled and grabbed his hand that was resting on his thigh.

“Are you done? Or can I say what I need to say now?” you said, your tone playful as a small smile formed on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I have feelings for you, too. I wouldn’t be naked in your bed right now if I didn’t.”

“Seriously?” he asked, a huge smile on his face at the confession. You nodded as you leaned in to connect your lips with his again.

You moved to straddle his lap, your mouth not leaving his as his hands roamed the areas of your body he could reach. The kiss got even more desperate as his hands moved to your ass, pulling you closer so your soaked pussy was resting against his hard cock that was straining in his boxers. He gasped at the feeling when you started to grind, both of you getting some of the friction you were craving.

Your lips moved to his neck, placing open mouthed kisses until you found his sweet spot and lightly sucked on it, the feeling making a small moan slip past his lips.

“Lay back, baby,” you mumbled against his neck as he did what he said, your body moving with his as he relaxed against his comforter.

You kissed down his chest, over his stomach, finally stopping once you made it to the waistband of his boxers. You smirked at him as you sat up a little, watching how quickly his chest was rising and falling, his eyes pleading for you to do more.

You watched his face as your hand reached up to palm him over his boxers, his mouth falling open at the feeling.

“Can I-“ was all you got out before Ethan whimpered “Please” not fully sure of what you were even going to ask, but he desperately needed more.

You giggled to yourself as your fingers hooked in the top of his boxers before you started to inch them down, his hips lifting a little once he noticed you were struggling to get them off.

You glanced down at his cock as you wrapped your hand around it, salivating at the drop of precum already leaking out of his tip before you looked up at him. Your hand moved up and down as his eyes darted between yours and your hand.

“Jesus Christ,” he rushed out as he looked at you, your hand moving a little quicker. “This feels better than I thought it would.”

“You’ve thought about this?” you teased, as he mumbled a ‘Mhm’. “Have you thought about my mouth, too?”

“All the fucking time,” he admitted without missing a beat.

You leaned your head down to lick away the drop of precum, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock before you inched him in your mouth. Ethan’s hand lazily rested on the back of your head as you took as much of him as you could, your hand moving up and down around what you couldn’t fit.

Ethan was trying so hard to keep quiet, hid bottom lip tightly held between his teeth as your head bobbed, but once you started to gag around him, he let out this strangled whimper. Hearing how good he was feeling only motivated you even more as you moved faster, your saliva dripping down his cock as you hollowed your cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he said, his praise going straight to your throbbing pussy.

His fingers tangled in your hair, the gentle tugs making you moan around him. His breathing got heavier, your name rolling off his tongue in a string of whines. You slid him out of your mouth a little to focus on his tip, your eyes looking deep into his hooded ones.

You knew he was getting close as your hand moved and twisted around him, his hips jerking at the feeling.

“Gonna cum,” he whimpered, the sound making you laugh a little as you sucked harder on his sensitive tip. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

He had his fists bawled up, one in his comforter, the other in your hair as you tasted the salty liquid coat the inside of your mouth. You stopped sucking and switched to gentle licks as you collected ever drop of cum on your tongue, before you swallowed and sat up to look at him.

Ethan’s cheeks were flush, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he came down from his high. He lazily smiled at you before he sat up and grabbed you, flipping you so your back was resting against his bed.

You giggled as his lips attached to your neck, a soft moan slipping out once he found your sweet spot. He sucked on it as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours. You whined as you felt his cock, already hard again for you, resting against your pussy.

“Ethan, I need you,” you said, as he chuckled and placed kisses along your collar bone.

“Patience, baby,” he said, the new pet name making your heart swell as he made his way down your chest.

He ran his tongue over one of your nipples a few times before he sucked it into his mouth, gasps slipping past your lips as you tried to stay still. He gave the other side the same attention, and as good as it felt, your pussy desperately needed attention.

It was like Ethan could read your mind, his fingertips gently moving up your thigh before they reached where you needed him.

“Fuck,” you whispered as his fingers made it to your clit.

He rubbed slow circles, and you were finally starting to feel a little bit of the relief you needed. Once he added more pressure and rubbed faster, your hips were arching off the bed, your moans getting louder as he kissed down your body.

He replaced his fingers with his tongue, flicking it across your sensitive bundle of nerves before he licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit. Your legs were tingling at that feeling alone, but once he sucked your clit into his mouth and slid two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, you were fighting to keep your legs open for him.

He held eye contact with you as he angled his fingers just right, your brain getting cloudy as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, the sound quickly becoming his new favorite as your hand ran through his curls.

The pads of his fingers pressed harder against that spongy spot inside you, your eyes fluttering closed as the coil in the pit of your stomach got tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. Once he hummed with your clit in his mouth, you felt the familiar white-hot feeling spread across your body, your thighs closing in around his head as you cried out.

He slowed his fingers a little as his mouth kept working on your clit, until you pulled away from the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

He slid his fingers out and sat up to look at you, the smile on his face showing how proud of himself he was for making you feel that good.

“I didn’t think you’d be bad at that, but I didn’t expect it to be that good,” you said, as your heavy breathing slowed.

“Well, after the head you gave me, I couldn’t disappoint you,” he said, as he moved back up to the bed to cuddle.

He laid his head on your chest as your fingers lazily ran through his curls. He wanted more, but he didn’t want to ask for it. He just wanted to be close to you at that moment. But once you asked if he had a condom, he sat up and leaned over you, reaching into the nightstand beside his bed.

Ethan moved so he was in between your legs again, sitting on his knees as he opened the condom and rolled it on. You stared at his size, a little nervous that it would hurt because he was definitely above average, and your jaw was still a little sore from sucking it, but you took a deep breath to relax before he slid his tip inside of you.

He only made it a few inches before he groaned, the tightness making his head spin.

“Your pussy is pulling me in right now,” he said, “You want it that bad, baby?”

“Yes,” you moaned, as he inched the rest of his cock inside you.

You winced a little at the burning feeling of him stretching you out, a concerned look on his face as he stared at you.

“I’m okay,” you said, “You can move.”

“You sure?” he asked, as he leaned down so his chest was pressed against yours.

“Please fuck me,” you said, before you leaned up a little, connecting your mouth to his.

He slowly slid in and out of you as you made out with him, your hands running along his bare back. Everything felt so sensual and intimate, and you swore you could feel the love radiating off him.

As he pulled away from the kiss, he softly bit your bottom lip before he sat back up on his knees, the position making it easier for him to go faster. His hands were all over you, from your legs to your chest, every touch feeling like fire against your skin.

Your bottom lip was in between your teeth, your eyebrows furrowing as he hit that spot every single time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, a smirk playing on his lips as he thrusted faster.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Feels so good.”

“You like it when I fuck your tight little pussy?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “You’re taking it so well.”

Between his dirty talk and his praise, you felt your second orgasm of the night creeping up. Your hips were moving to meet his, your sounds getting louder as he kept his pace.

“I’m clo-“ was all you got out, before his hips slowed and he slid out of you. “Ethannn,” you whined, as he smiled and grabbed your hips to flip you over.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll make you cum,” he said, as he adjusted you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him.

He gave it a smack before he slid back inside of you, a loud moan flying out of your mouth as he went faster than he had before. You were a whimpering mess, your brain turning to mush as he hit your g-spot over and over again.

Your hand snaked underneath you to rub circles on your clit as his hands tightly held your hips, pulling you back to meet every deep thrust me was giving you.

Your orgasm was right on the edge again as you tried to turn your thoughts into words, finally begging “Please don’t stop.”

You heard him grunting behind you as he kept his pace, your eyes rolling back as your entire body started to tingle.

“Cum for me,” he said, as you whimpered his name, that feeling crashing into you so hard that you felt dizzy.

Your pussy was clenching his cock so hard that he moaned out, his hips stuttering as pulled your hips back to meet his even faster.

“Gonna cum,” he rushed out, giving you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stilled.

He stayed inside of you as he caught his breath, his hand running through his sweaty hair as he smiled. Your back was still arched, your hand lazily gripping the sheets. If it wasn’t for the sight in front of him, he would’ve thought this was just a figment of his imagination. He never expected you to feel the same for him, but he was so happy that you did.

He slid out, a soft whine slipping past your lips at the empty feeling before you relaxed your hips, your body flatly laid on top of his bed. He ran his hand over your back before he leaned down, placing kisses along your shoulders and spine.

“That was amazing, babe,” you said, as he smirked against you.

“I agree,” he said, smiling as he thought about it. “Do you want to go shower? I want to cuddle, but I’m so sweaty right now.”

“Sure,” you said, as he sat up and slid off the side of his bed, before he helped you get off it.

Your legs were a little wobbly like you were taking your first steps as Ethan held onto you. He cracked open his bedroom door, listening to see if he heard anyone else in the apartment. It was silent aside from the game music still coming from the tv, but Ethan wanted to be safe.

“Chad?” he yelled, and once he didn’t get a response, he led you to the bathroom.

You leaned against the counter as he got the water temperature just right, before he walked back over to you. He held onto you as you stepped over the side of the tub before he got in, a goofy smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“How long have you had these feelings for me?” he questioned, as he grabbed the bottle of his shampoo and body wash combo off the shower rack.

You giggled to yourself as he cocked his eyebrow at you.

“A while,” you said, as he started to massage the soap into his hair. “I didn’t think you were interested in me.”

“I’ve been interested in you since the day I met you,” he admitted, as he grabbed his loofah.

You took it from his hand and put some of the body wash on it before you lathered it up and ran it across his chest.

“Why didn’t you say something?” you asked, as you maneuvered around him to wash his back.

“You make me nervous,” he said, chuckling softly. “Not in a bad way, though. You give me butterflies. And there were so many nights after we’d go out that I wanted to try to kiss you, but I was scared you wouldn’t want me to.”

He turned around to face you, a sweet smile on his lips as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.

“I’m happy you did tonight.”

After Ethan washed your body like you did his, you got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself as Ethan wrapped his around his hips. You were so caught up in talking to each other when you walked out of the bathroom that you didn’t notice Chad walking down the hallway.

“Um,” he mumbled, as he turned around, his back facing you and Ethan as you both laughed. “I guess you told her how you feel?”

“Yep,” Ethan said, as Chad stood there, blocking the path you and Ethan needed to walk in to get back to his room. “Dude, are you going to stand there all night? I’m getting cold.”

“Sorry,” Chad said, as he stepped to the side for you and Ethan to pass him. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you responded, as you walked into Ethan’s room and closed the door behind you.

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: minor violence in the last sentence

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Simon might be a ghost on the battlefield, but you become the ghost on base.

Everyone’s gone. Your only company is your cat, and even Bubbles is starting to get sick of you. You can’t work, have nothing to contribute to the base, and it’s not like the military is going to recruit you for help. 

John and Kyle are gone for weeks. Five days into your abandonment, a nurse puts you out of your misery and recruits you as a medbay volunteer. You fetch supplies, talk to injured soldiers, and deliver food trays. It’s thankless work as most of the hospital occupants are too injured to talk or too caught up in memories of the battlefield. Occasionally, you can make someone smile, especially once you start bringing Bubbles in. Dogs might be favored for therapy animals, but in the grimness of the grey medbay, your cat does the trick. Those smiles keep you going, reminding you of the task force you’ve come to regard as yours. 

Volunteer work gives you time to think. To ponder John’s words and how, despite the idiocy of him just assuming you were together, they were what you’ve been wanting to hear. You’ve been straddling this line of jealousy and avoidance, wanting John to yourself while knowing you can’t want him at all. But is that really the case? If Johnny’s dating Simon, maybe it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be with John. You just need to approach the subject with caution, and give him time to warm up to it. He’s never met a boyfriend of yours, so you can’t show PDA off the bat. It might take a while, but optimism seeps through your veins.

It’s the feeling you can know so much without knowing anything at all. You have no clue how Johnny will react or if John will even want to date you now that you’ve hurt him. What will Simon and Kyle think? You’ve only met them a few times, but with how much Johnny trusts them, their acceptance means everything.

Of course, all of your plans include Johnny surviving whatever hell he’s in, and that realization quickly snuff the flames of your desire. You ride this seesaw of emotions for weeks, thinking of John one day and your brother the next. It doesn’t help you have no one to talk to except your cat and soldiers in comas. Your social life is really looking up.

Eventually, the nurses stop seeing you as a nuisance and more of a new fixture on base. It’s the nurses that keep medbay functioning, especially when doctors are focused on emergency patients. Someone finds out you’re Johnny’s brother and suddenly you’re hounded by two women asking if you know of one Kyle Garrick. They must be in that love triangle John mentioned. You warn them to not get attached, something someone should have warned you months ago.

Three weeks later, there’s an early morning knock at your door. It’s barely 5 am and even the sun isn’t awake yet. You trudge your way to the door, grabbing one of Johnny’s sweatshirts to battle the early morning cold. There’s a runty almost-kid at your door, shifting from foot to foot. He almost flinches when you open the door, head snapping up to look at your face, then back to his boots. It’s a bit unnerving, how scared he looks.

“Ms. Mactavish?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re wanted at the helipad. Captain Price is back.” You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, how the rookie in front of you almost jumps back in fear. “Did they say anything about Sergeant Mactavish? Soap or Ghost?” He shakes his head and your heart drops to your stomach. “No, ma’am. That’s all they told me. I’m here to walk you to the helipad.” You’re already moving, fumbling for the closest pair of shoes, shoving them on without socks. You close the door and wait for him to direct you. He stands there, almost twitching. “Well?” You adopt a forceful tone, reminiscent of your captain. The recruit jumps slightly, then starts walking down the hall, gesturing to you to follow. You’re speedwalking, leading even though you have no idea where you’re going. Finally, after minutes of silence, he brings you to a nondescript elevator. When you get inside, there’s only one button, an up arrow. You wring your hands as the elevator moves up, every worst possible fear coming to mind. What if John comes back empty-handed? Or with two body bags? They didn’t even mention Kyle. What if he got captured too? You shake the thoughts out, knowing you’ll get your answers in seconds.

The elevator stops, dinging as the doors open. It’s dark and cold outside, but you’re fixated on the doors of the helicopter in front of you. It’s opening and you’re moving, practically running across the roof. A figure with a shaved head is jumping out, the darkness hiding his face. You finally reach him and cry out in relief.

“Johnny!”

“M'eudail.”

His response is muffled by the hug you attack him with. He’s skinnier than usual, no longer built like a tank. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s here, arms wrapped around you. The tears fall unbidden and you think he’s crying too, something you’ve only seen him once at nine years old when he broke his arm climbing a tree. You rub your arms up and down his back, calming him like you would yourself. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He nods against you, tears slowing as you simply hold each other. “Thought you got the memo, you’re not allowed to leave me, Johnny.” You hate how long it takes for him to find a comeback as all he does is squeeze you tighter. “Won’t do it again, hen.”

You finally pull back to take a look at him. His usually bright eyes have dulled and his facial hair is shaved unevenly. And, like you originally thought, his mohawk is gone, replaced with a terrible buzzcut. You run your hands around his smooth head and hate the feel of it. “‘M sorry, Johnny. It’ll grow back.” He gives you a watery smile, hands finally relaxing their grip on you. He blinks back the remaining tears and you can see his soldier persona take over as his back straightens. You take one more moment to kiss his cheek, then pull back out of his grip. Over his shoulder, you spot Simon being handed a medical mask by Kyle. Once he puts it on, you approach him gratefully.

“Simon.” He scoops you up in a hug. “Bird.” You smile against his mask. “Thank you for keeping him safe.” He nods against you, releasing you from his grip. “Think he kept me alive, t’ be honest.” You grin and give him the same cheek kiss you gave Johnny.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You turn and let out a shout of relief. It’s Kyle. “You’re alive!” It’s another brotherly hug you dole out, squeezing him tightly. “Couldn’t leave ya alone, angel.” You giggle. “I’m glad you’re alive. I met some very lovely nurses while you were gone who had very interesting thoughts on you.” You can hear him audibly gulp for effect, a smirk written on his face when you pull out of his grip. “We’ve got things to discuss, then.” He winks and you wink back.

There’s a pair of eyes that have been staring at you for a while now. John’s the last out of the helicopter, conferring with the soldiers around him before saying his hellos. A doctor is checking out Johnny and Simon, Kyle talking to them in murmured tones. John walks toward you quietly, stopping silently. The words of the last conversation you had float between you, bitter from weeks of overthinking.

When John opens his arms for a hug, your senses go haywire. The noises of the task force, of your brother, fade to the background as John gathers you into his arms. He smells like gunpowder and blood, that familiar scent of pine and musk nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said.” You murmur it into the crook of his neck. John stiffens slightly, knowing you’re referring to your last conversation. Where you told him you couldn’t be together. 

“‘M sorry f’r not communicatin’.” You shake your head against him like you won’t accept his apology. His hand traces the path of your spine and digs into the nape of your neck, gripping the base of your hair like a leash. “What’re you sayin’, sweetheart?” The hug has gone on far too long for this to be normal, for you to be having this conversation wrapped in each other. You pull back slightly to see his face, arms still wrapped around him. “I can’t not be with you, John. We’ll figure everything else out.” He pulls you in for a kiss, a short and sweet one that wraps around you like a warm blanket. The moment is perfect.

Well, it is perfect, until you remember your brother standing a few meters away. Johnny, recent captive and loyal twin, is red in the face watching his sister kiss his captain. You turn your head to see Simon put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, an attempt to calm him that does not work. Johnny’s charging the two of you like an angry bull, huffing and mad. He reaches you in quick steps, hands balled in fists at his side.

“Didnae ken who ta yell at first.” His eyes drop to John’s hand in your hair and his nostrils flare. John’s hands drop, pushing you around him and away from your brother. “Guess it’s you, Cap.” And that’s when Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, known spitfire, punches his captain.

- 50 points to anyone who can find the taylor swift lyric. hint it’s from Red and it’s an underrated song imo.

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[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[slutz4marsh]

Kyle Broflovski x Bratty F!Reader SMUT for April!!! <3

Look. Kyle considered himself to be a generally patient person.

Although, he did know that depending on who he asked, some people might say that was complete and utter bullshit.

Whatever. The point was that he had patience. If not in general, at least for you.

Which was why it frustrated him when you acted like a brat.

He was patient with you, and generally, he didn’t like to be super rough with you. He didn’t like to ruin you. Not on purpose, anyway. Kyle liked to worship you, treat you like a precious little doll that needed his protection.

And yet you still acted like this even when he treated you like a precious, sweet angel. His angel, his doll, his princess.

Kyle had thoughts when you walked out of your house in a shirt that showed off the curve of your breasts and a skirt that didn’t leave that much to the imagination, but he didn’t say anything. Figured, hey. Maybe you weren’t doing it on purpose.

But when you went out and he caught you leaning forward toward your friends, giggling and twirling your hair and pushing your arms together to force your breasts together?

Yeah. He knew what the fuck you were doing.

So, he stood up and grabbed your arm to yank you along with him. He told his friends that he just remembered that you two had something you had to do, something about a project or something. It was a good enough excuse, considering they all bought it.

Kyle was dead silent until he got you in the car, and then he shook his head while he started the car. He pressed his foot on the gas pedal, eyes narrowed at the road.

“I really cannot fucking believe you sometimes,” Kyle snapped, his knuckles white from how tight he was holding the steering wheel.  “I mean, I saw the outfit and thought it was weird, but whatever.”

He shook his head. “But whatever the hell that was?” Kyle scoffed. “You are such a brat sometimes.”

You knew Kyle was mad and nothing you could say would make it any better, so you chose to stay quiet and let Kyle vent out his irritations anyway.

When you got home, he dragged you into your bedroom and sat down on his bed. Then, he bent you over his lap without another word.

“Count.”

His words left no room for argument, so you took a breath. Kyle’s hand came down hard on your ass. You gasped and writhed, but Kyle kept you firmly in place.

“One,” you said, voice shaking some.

“Good girl. Keep going.” Kyle said as he rubbed your ass before hitting again.

He got to fifteen. You were sobbing and trembling as you whimpered out the number.

“Shh, shh,” Kyle cooed as he soothingly rubbed your ass. “See? Good girl. You know why I had to do that, don’t you?”

His words were softly spoken and sweet. A direct contrast to the previous actions he’d made.

You sniffled and nodded. You did know. It’s why you’d been such a brat all day anyway - you wanted his attention. No matter what that meant.

“I don’t really know that you’ve really learned anything though,” Kyle clicked his tongue. “For all I know, you’ll just do this again the minute I stop touching you.”

His hand snaked down the curve of your ass and between your delicate folds, fingers probing at your cunt. He dipped two fingers inside you and began to gently rub them against your spot. His fingers were long, nimble, and they felt fucking fantastic.

Fantastic to the point that you whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you, coated in your juices. You moaned as you watched him suck his fingers clean.

And then, he pulled you off his lap and onto the bed. He pulled his own pants down and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Stay fuckin’ still, alright?” Kyle cursed as he pushed into you. Even through your lusty haze, you could tell he was still irritated with you for your brattiness.

You let out a broken moan as he pushed into you slowly, then began rocking his hips into you.

“God, you’re so tight,” Kyle groaned, “you’d be so perfect if you weren’t such a little brat.”

You whined softly as Kyle used your body, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“God, See?” Kyle panted. “You can be such a good girl, yeah? All tight and wet. Just for me, huh, princess?”

You moaned at his words and nodded swiftly. “Jus’ for you,” You managed to say between moans, feeling your walls starting to flutter.

Kyle shook his head and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t,” he whispered his warning. “Not ‘til I say you can. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”

You whine desperately, but you nodded. And Kyle grinned, knowing he’d forced you back into submission. Back into his sweet, darling little angel that would listen to every word that fell from his lips.

You were so tense with the effort of trying to hold back your orgasm, you genuinely thought you might explode into teeny tiny little pieces.

And Kyle’s movements became more desperate and erratic.

If you were able to think about anything other than keeping your pleasure at bay, you would have known that Kyle was close. You would have known that he was moments away from painting your inner walls a milky white.

Kyle pushed his lips against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. They graze your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine, and you swore he was trying to kill you with the way he nipped at you.

“Sweetheart,” Kyle breathed. You could feel him grinning against your ear, and you felt like you were going insane with need and desperation. “I think you’ve earned it. Don’t you? You’re being so good and sweet for me.” 

You gasped, but you still held off. Waiting for Kyle to actually say the words.

And say them, he did. 

“Cum for me,” He nipped at your earlobe. “Come on, princess. Cum for me. You’ve earned it. Come on, baby.”

You swore to whatever god might fucking be out there, you blacked out.

Your orgasm was intense. You dragged your nails down Kyle’s back, sure to leave bright red marks for at least a few days. You practically screamed, chanting his name like it was a prayer to the only thing that mattered in that moment: him.

As your hole fluttered and clenched around him, it milked Kyle’s orgasm out of him. He came inside you with a deep groan, and he wrapped his arms around your torso, yanking you closer as he pulsed, filling you up with hot and sticky cum.

You both laid like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and coming back to yourselves.

Kyle pulled out of you with a groan and smiled as he cradled your cheeks in his hands.

“You are fucking perfect. C’mon, shower.”

With that, he gently grabbed your arms to help you to the bathroom.

[angel-gone-dark]

Kyle x Coquette girlie pretty please with sugar on top. 🤭

Kyle x Coquette!F!Reader

ok so like. i went off here. um, hope you like it bestie LMAO

CWs: unprotected sex, reader is a little bit of a shit, maybe a lil rough?

SMUT UNDER CUT. MDNI.

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

Kyle raised a brow at his friends in the hallway, who were all in various states of confusion. 

“What the hell are you all staring at?” He snipped, and Cartman pointed across the hall.

“Dude, look at her outfit. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Kyle looked over at the girl who had been pointed out. She was surrounded by the other girls, talking and laughing. He was entranced with the way she moved, flipping her hair over her shoulder. He’d never seen someone dress the way she did, her outfit consisting of white lace and pink bows. The mary janes on her feet clicked against the tiles any time she shuffled her pose. He swallowed, forcing his eyes back onto his friends. 

“Yeah? What, uh, what about it?” He asked.

Cartman cocked his head to the side, “What is she even going for?”

“Who cares, it works,” Kenny grinned. “She looks fucking hot.”

Kyle couldn’t help but agree. Her skirt was short over her tights, shirt showing off the smooth skin of her shoulders. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of it pressed against him, especially the skin on her chest and thighs. He had to take some deep breaths, attempting to force his boner down. Kyle was saved, literally, by the bell. He dashed off to his class, trying his hardest to ignore the pretty girl- and the bewildered cries of his friends.

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

The ginger slid his fingers through his curls, squinting down at his textbooks in frustration. He jotted down notes, rereading them at least 5 times over to make sure they made sense. He jumped, looking up with wide eyes when he was joined at the table… by the girl he was looking at earlier. You.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, I hear you’re a really good tutor. Can I get you to look over my work quickly?” You batted your lashes at him and he was suddenly extremely glad he was sitting down. 

“Yeah, yes of course,” He nodded, taking your notebook from you to glance over your notes. “This looks really good, but I think you have an error right here.”

You hummed, nodding. You contorted your face into your cutest pout, absolutely indulging in his eyes on you. 

“I don’t understand,” you huffed, moving your chair closer to him and pressing your chest up against his arm. 

He stammered trying to muster a reply, “W-well, uh, here. Look at the way I broke it down in my notes.”

Throughout his whole ‘tutoring’ thing, you acted your absolute cutest. If you were being entirely honest, you’d had your eyes on him from the moment you saw him. You were heavily repressing the urge to jump his bones in the very public library.

“You know, I think you should come to my house after school. I could use some more help,” you suggested, leaning further into him. 

His face was tinged deep with a blush that went from the tops of his ears down, down… you gnawed your lip thinking how far it reached. 

“Y-yeah. Okay,” he gave in. “Where do you…”

You interrupted him, “Meet me after school. We’ll walk together, handsome.”

He gaped as you retreated from the library, your little date secure. 

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

You waited for Kyle near the school’s main entrance, books clutched close to your chest. Your sickly sweet smile returned as he approached, and you gave him that innocent look that you knew would drive him nuts.

“Hi, Kyle,” you had put on your most charming voice. “Thanks for walking me home and helping me with homework.”

“No problem,” he smiled and it nearly took you out. “Can you scooch over? I’d rather be the one walking on the outside of the sidewalk.”

Oh, he was going to be the death of you. The walk to your house was mostly quiet, Kyle seeming content with the silence.

You opened your door, gesturing for him to follow you, and led him all the way up to your room. You sat pretty on your bed, tilting your head at him. He glanced around, trying to avoid your hungry gaze draping down him. You sighed gently, combing your fingers up your body to untie the ribbon holding your hair in its graceful ponytail. He sat in your desk chair, moving his textbook over his lap.

You stood, waltzing right on over and placing your hand over the thick book between you and heaven.

“Hiding something?” You teased, pressing down on it. 

He grabbed your wrist in his hand, speaking through grit teeth, “Stop it.” 

“Or what?” You taunted. He had had enough of your attitude. 

Kyle stood, grabbed you by the hips, and tossed you onto the mattress. He leaned over you, voice strained and hands gripping the sheets. 

“You’re making it extremely difficult for me to stay decent, do you know that? You asked me to help you study, and here I am trying, and you’re giving me those goddamn eyes,” he rambled, more frustrated than you had expected. “I can’t tell if you’re giving me permission to touch you like I want to.”

“Do it.”

As soon as he had your permission he was ravishing your lips with his, his hands moving to squeeze eagerly at your chest as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, honey,” he breathed, face dipping to nip at your neck. “Why can’t you be this good all the time, hm?” 

You groaned as his lips moved downwards, and he left purpley blue hickeys on your skin. Those would be hard to cover, and you would have been angrier if one of his hands hadn’t moved under your skirt to stroke your slit through your tights and panties.

“Sorry about this, but the damn things are in the way.” He huffed, ripping a hole directly in the crotch of your tights.

As you made a move to protest, his deft fingers moved your panties to the side, thumb rolling over your clit and index plunging into you. You gasped, back arching under his touch as he stretched you out, adding his middle finger as well.

“Kyle, please.” You whined.

“Please what, pretty? Use your manners.” 

“Please just fuck me.” 

He chuckled, fingers curling inside of you teasingly, “Since you asked so nicely.”

You whimpered at how empty you felt as he retracted his fingers to undo his belt and jeans, leaning up on your elbows to watch. As he pulled his cock out of his boxers, you couldn’t help but salivate. He was thick, and wet, and blushing an angry pink at the tip. It twitched as he touched it to glide it against your slit, making you moan.

He was eager, too eager to properly undress either of you. All he did was flip your skirt up as he sunk into you, his jaw hanging open as he allowed you to adjust. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” he grunted, rolling his hips harshly into yours. “Atta girl, you can take it. C’mere.”

He pressed his lips on yours again as he began to move, pace quickly rising from the simple grind of his hips to roughly pound into your cunt. Your eyes fell shut, hands clawing at your cute pink bedspread. 

“K-Kyle, fuck.” You heaved, hips bucking up into his.

“Such a dirty mouth on you, gorgeous…” He smirked down at you, thumb moving back to roll over your clit. “Do you want me to make you cum on my cock?”

“Please, please, I need it, Kyle.” You begged, all sense of dignity out the window as he plunged in and out of you with wet slaps.

“Good girl. Such a good girl,” he groaned, increasing the pressure of his tight little circles. “So cute f’me.”

His cock twitched inside you, and he dropped his drooling mouth to your neck again, biting down hard before whispering in your ear.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, honey, you can take it. Fuck.”

You couldn’t hold it any longer, the tight coil that rested in your abdomen snapping suddenly as you came with a cry. You gripped him so tight he could barely move as he ground his hips down into you, his release not far behind, spilling warmth inside of you.

“Shit,” he cursed, gently pulling himself from your hole. “If you look this good with my cum dripping out of you we might be here for a while.”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

he owes reader a pair of tights!!!!

word count: 1411

[soaps-mohawk]

Good Boy

Summary: He’s been such a good puppy. You want nothing more than to reward him on his special day. 

Pairing: Johnny x reader

Word Count: 5,527 words

Warnings: Pet play, mommy kink, puppy!Soap, sex toys, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking (it’s like one), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, lingerie, 

A/N: This is the first kinktober fic I wrote for this year, but I ultimately decided not to do a version for Kyle. It just fits Johnny perfectly and I’m honestly proud of it. Posted it on Patreon back in early October but decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy

MASTERLIST

You can hear the slight rattle of the kennel before you even have the front door closed. You take your time, kicking off your heels, placing your keys in the drawer, going to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Quiet, pathetic whining reaches your ears, the quiet scuff of movement on the plastic crate pan. He must have bunched his bed up again. 

Silly dog. 

You flip through the mail casually, tossing junk in the recycling and setting aside what you can only assume is a birthday card from your parents. The whining gets louder and more consistent. You let out a quiet sigh, tempted to open the card now and make him wait, but you'll be a good owner and give him the attention he's so desperate for. 

Poor thing has been locked up all day. 

Your feet pad quietly towards the living room, dress pants dragging quietly on the wood. You'll have to get these dry cleaned later. The whining gets louder as you approach, the metal exterior of the kennel rattling as he moves around in anticipation. 

You round the corner, pausing in the archway separating the living room from the hallway. Your dog, your sweet boy, is kneeling in his kennel, pressed up against the door in excitement. Tufts of hair stick through the top as he waits for you to scratch him through the bars like you always do. You can imagine his tail wagging happily, if he had one. 

“Did you miss me?” You ask, not moving towards the kennel. 

“Yes, mommy.” He whines, pressing harder against the cage, so hard his skin begins to push out between the gaps in the metal. 

You let out a sigh, finally approaching. “Stop it. You'll leave marks on your skin. You know mommy hates that.”

He lets out a whine, but does as he's told, moving away from the side of the cage, but he keeps his head pressed against the top. 

“Good boy.” You praise him, bending down to scratch his head through the bars. 

His hair is soft between your fingers. He'd had a mohawk when you picked him out and brought him home. You let him keep it, finding it endearing. It gives him character. Fits him perfectly. 

“Were you a good boy today?” You ask, pulling your hand away, bending down further, placing your hands on your knees. Your breasts push up, visible thanks to the few buttons you'd undone on your work shirt as you drove home from your after work errands. There's even a sliver of your bra showing. Blue, his favorite color. 

His eyes are trained on your breasts, licking his lips. His whole body is wiggling excitedly, his cock swinging between his legs, back and forth almost like a tail might. He's distracted, drool starting to drip out of his mouth just from the sight of your cleavage. 

To be fair, you had been denying him all week in preparation for today. 

You reach through the top of the cage again, fingers gripping his hair and tugging until his head is forced against the top of the kennel. “Mommy asked you a question.”

He lets out a pathetic whine, thick fingers curling between the thin metal bars at the top of the kennel. “Sorry mommy.” He pouts, giving you puppy eyes as he apologizes. You can't help but soften as those big blue eyes begin to glisten with tears. “I was the best boy today.” 

You hum, releasing his hair. You scratch his scalp as you eye the bed pushed against the back of the crate. “You messed your bed up.” His water and snack bowls are empty, shoved to the back of the crate with his bed. 

“Too excited.” He whines. 

You hum again, standing up straight. His eyes follow you, head shifting against the top of the cage. “Is my little pup excited about today?”

He nods, his fingers flexing on the metal bars. “Yes, mommy.”

“I got you a surprise.” You say, turning to the side table across from his kennel, digging the key from the drawer. “To celebrate.” 

“What is it?” He asks, getting excited again. 

“Well, that wouldn't make it much of a surprise, would it?” You tease, turning back to the kennel. 

He lets out an eager whine, leaning against the front of the cage. 

“Do you need to go potty?” You ask, bending down in front of the cage again. 

“Please mommy. Real bad.” He begs. 

You do feel bad. He has been locked up all day, and you had taken the time to run some errands after work. You've tried letting him have free reign of the house. It lasted a day. You'd come home from work to find him desperately humping your pillow, a pair of dirty panties he'd pulled from your laundry basket pressed against his nose. He'd made quite a mess, and so you had to go back to putting him in the crate every time you left. 

“Can you be a big boy and use the bathroom, or do we need to go outside?” You ask.

He whines as he thinks for a moment. “Bathroom, please.”

You hum, putting the key in the padlock that keeps him from opening the cage. It's more to keep him from escaping to romp around the house and make another mess. He wouldn't leave the house, though. He has no reason to. He can get out in the case of an emergency, but he's a good boy. He does as he's told...most of the time. 

You open the door to the crate, letting him crawl out. You turn the TV off as he takes a moment to stretch, joints creaking from being shut in the confined space. It's no small crate, the biggest you could find. Still, it doesn't leave him much room for moving around. 

You'll have to book him a massage this weekend. Get those muscles loosened up again. 

“Come on, pup.” You say, nudging him with your foot in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. “Let's go potty.”

He crawls on all fours towards the bathroom, slow going after being cooped up all day. You don't rush him, walking slowly behind him. The tags on his collar clink with every waddling shuffle on his hands and knees. 

He crawls into the bathroom and you turn on the light. He shifts up onto his knees, using the edge of the sink to pull himself onto his feet. You watch him as he stands, joints cracking again. He stretches, arms up over his head, the muscles in his back moving as he does. 

Sometimes you forget just how big he is. 

It's easy when he's crawling around on all fours to make him small in your mind. It's not until he's standing that you remember just how broad he is. 

5'11, roughly 200 pounds. That's what his profile said when you were searching for a new puppy. Your previous one had decided to leave, a mutual agreement. He had only been in training, and decided the lifestyle wasn't for him after all. 

You don't mind training pups. It can be quite fun, but you were ready for a more experienced puppy after him. 

That's when you came across Johnny. Soap, as his profile had said. A nickname given by a previous owner. You can only imagine what he'd done that earned him that nickname. 

His bio was thorough, and he'd even provided the reference of his previous owner. You were intrigued so you had messaged him, and agreed to meet. 

You liked him immediately. 

Friendly, excitable, already eager to please during your first conversation. You're sure he'd have gotten down on all fours and crawled across the coffee shop if you'd asked him to. 

His separation with his last owner had been rather traumatic and he needed someone to take control, someone who could handle him, his neediness, his clinginess, his intense libido and stamina. 

It had only taken three meetings and a test run for him to move into your house. 

He learned quickly, adapting to your rules very fast. It had been a pleasant surprise, finding such an eager pup in a Scottish bloke who looked more like he should be tossing logs at the Highland Games and not crawling around on your floor with a collar around his neck.

Your last pup had been more of a Greyhound, while Johnny, he’s more of a Rottweiler. Large and intimidating, but sweet and cuddly and so eager to please. 

Johnny lets out a sigh as he finally gets to relieve himself after a long day. You stand, leaning in the doorway, watching him as he shakes and then grabs toilet paper to wipe his tip. A proud smile tugs at your lips as he washes his hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. 

“Good boy.” You praise him as he drops back onto all fours. You run your fingers through his mohawk, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. It’s getting long, you’ll have to trim it soon. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

He crawls behind you into the kitchen, watching as you move to the bag on the counter. He crawls closer, sitting back on his knees, watching you eagerly. You rip the tags off the toy in your hands, before turning to face him. 

“I got you an extra special toy for your birthday.” You hold out the stuffed squirrel to him. 

His eyes widen as he stares at it, sitting back fully on his knees as he reaches for it. It’s soft and fluffy and squeaks when you squeeze the middle. You’d spent almost half an hour at the pet store debating which you should get. You’d spent so long there a worker had approached, asking if you needed help and what kind of dog the toy was for. 

Great Dane, you’d told her, your go-to answer when buying things for your pup. 

She’d recommended the squirrel, and you could hardly say no. It was perfect, and judging by the way Johnny is clutching it to his chest, he thinks so too. 

“I also got you a meat stick.” You say, pulling the long beef stick from the grocery bag. “So you can have something to chew on.” You say, pulling off the wrapper. 

“Thank you, mommy.” He says, taking the beef stick between his teeth. 

You watch him crawl to the corner of the dining room where his bed sits. He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the soft, plush bed, his new squirrel tucked under his arm as he chews on his meat stick. 

You jump into making one of his favorite dinners while he’s occupied. While you’ve never been quite brave enough to try your hand at haggis, Johnny never complains about scotch pies. You turn on some quiet music while you work, eyes flickering to Johnny every so often. He’s content in the corner, making quick work of the meat stick. 

You take your time cooking, Johnny lazing with his squirrel in his arms. You stare at his cock as you mix ingredients, more thick than it is long as it drapes between his legs. There’s a heat growing between your own legs as you stare at him. He’s spread out on the bed, legs stretching straight out after being cooped up in the kennel all day. You make a quick note on the calendar. He needs a spa day this weekend. So will you after tonight. 

You jump as a hand grips your leg, weight settling against you. Johnny is leaning against your hip, big hand wrapped around your thigh. It’s slowly creeping higher, as if you wouldn’t notice it snaking up your inner thigh. 

You tsk at him, shifting out of his hold. “That’s not good boy behavior.” 

He lets out a whine, trying to move closer to you. “Sorry mommy. Need you bad.” 

“You need your strength, baby boy. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You run your hand over his head. You do leave him plenty of snacks to tide him over on days you have to go into the office. It’s always a big dinner night on those days to make up for his lack of lunch. 

He lets out a disappointed whine but he knows your right. He’s always a good boy, always so eager to please you and behave. He crawls back to his bed, cock swinging between his legs. Your teeth sink into your lip as you watch him go, rubbing your thighs together as you shift on your feet. It’s going to be a long evening for you too. 

You plate up dinner for him, gently easing him back into his human brain for the moment as you remove his collar. Usually you make him eat on the floor out of his bowl, but this is a special occasion. You grab the card from the counter as you carry the plates to the table. 

“Smells good.” He says, his voice lower and rougher than it is when he’s in his puppy mindset. His accent is thicker too, almost like he becomes an entirely new person. Well...he does. The whiny, needy puppy is gone, hidden well beneath the surface of a normal human man. 

“My parents sent a card.” You say, sliding it across the table to him as you take a seat. 

“That was nice of them.” He says, picking it up and opening it. 

He reads it to you, full of well wishes and congratulations. Your parents have met him a few times, though they only know him as your boyfriend. They’ll never know about the other side of your relationship, the side where your giant Scottish boyfriend crawls around on all fours wearing a collar and occasionally a butt plug with a silicone tail attached. 

To your parents he’s just a normal man. To you, he’s your good little puppy. 

The two of you chat as you eat, talking about work and your coworkers and the annoying woman at the shop that was arguing with the cashier. It’s all so domestic, all so...normal. 

You almost prefer him on the floor on his knees begging for scraps. 

He sneaks up behind you while you’re doing dishes, his arms wrapping around you. You can feel the bulge of his quickly hardening cock against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach towards your breasts. 

“This isn’t good boy behavior.” You say, but you don’t stop him as his hands cup your breasts through your shirt. 

You’ve fucked a few times like this, both of you in your normal mindsets. You let him be more dominant, let him get that energy out before he submits to you again. He’s a good fuck, knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to work you up. 

“You’re going to ruin your surprise.” You say, yet you can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him as his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt. The skimpy bra you’re wearing doesn’t offer much coverage or protection from his fingers. 

“Sorry mommy.” He growls in your ear, grinding against your ass. 

The deep growl in his voice has a shiver running down your spine. You should stop this before it gets much further, but part of you is tempted to let him have this moment, let him celebrate his birthday in both mindsets. 

“Easy, puppy boy.” You say, pushing his hands away from your breasts. You turn around, dragging a wet finger over his lips. “Be a good boy and behave yourself and you can have your surprise after I’m done.” 

The change happens instantly, his eyes lighting up as he shifts back into his puppy mindset. He drops to his knees in front of you, eye to eye with your pussy but he behaves himself, holding still as you move to grab his collar. You stare down at the fabric one with the plastic clip, the one he wears while you’re gone in case he needs to get out of it fast. You want his leather one tonight. 

You clip the collar around his neck for now before going back to the dishes. He crawls back to his bed, laying himself down on his stomach. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye to make sure he’s not rutting against the bed like a bad dog. 

Dishes go by quickly as you set them in the drying rack, catching movement out of the corner of your eye. Unsurprisingly Johnny is in the corner, humping his bed, trying to relieve some of the ache that probably has his cock pulsing. You let out a sigh before approaching, bringing your hand down against his ass, the perky cheek bouncing. He lets out a yowl, his hips bucking into the bed. 

“You’re being a bad boy.” You say as he turns around, cock weeping with precum. There’s a damp spot on the fabric of his bed, but you know he hasn’t cum. Not yet. He knows better. 

“Sorry Mommy.” He pouts, but he can’t cute his way out of this one. 

You slip your fingers under the front of his collar, tugging him forward gently. “Bad boys get punished.” 

He lets out a whine, trying to give you big puppy eyes but they don’t work. You’ve long grown immune to that stare. 

“Come on.” You say, moving to the drawer to pull out a leash. He crawls towards you, sitting back on his knees to allow you to clip the leash onto his collar. He is a good boy, he just can’t control himself sometimes. 

Not with his insane libido. 

You walk him to the stairs, taking them slow as you lead him up to the second floor. He picks up his pace on the carpet, following you eagerly into the bedroom. He dutifully sits on his knees next to the bed, watching you as you unclip his collar. You pull the leather one from the drawer, the one you made specially for him, the one with his name stamped on the side. 

Johnny. 

He tilts his head back as you put it on him, slipping two fingers under to make sure it’s not too tight. You turn back to the drawer, pulling out the box. He shifts on his knees, already knowing what’s coming. 

“Bend over.” You say, pulling out the lube. He shifts himself onto the bed immediately, bending himself over the side. You squirt some lube over his ass, letting it run down over his hole. “Get yourself ready.” 

“Yes mommy.” He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches a hand back, gathering lube on his finger before pressing it into his hole. He groans, pushing his face against the bed as he works his finger in, opening himself up. You watch him fuck himself with his finger, adding a second one to open himself up. The plug isn’t huge, but you want him to be prepared. 

You spread lube on the plug before you pat his ass gently and he pulls his fingers from his hole. You squirt more lube over his hole before you press the tip of the plug against his ass. He clenches as you begin to push it in, a whiny moan leaving his lips. He’s staining the comforter with precum, but that’s what washing machines are for. 

It won’t be the only stain on the bed by the time you’re done with him. 

You slide the plug into place, the silicone tail perky in the air. He wiggles his hips, the tail wagging back and forth. 

You hum, pleased by the sight. “My cute little puppy.” You praise him before grabbing the fluffy ears from the box. You’ve always preferred them over the more traditional mask. You want to see his cute face as you make him beg to cum. 

He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting back on his knees. A breathy moan leaves his lips as the plug shifts inside him, the tail moving as he clenches around it. His cock is bright red and hard, and you’re sure you could see it pulsing with need if you looked close enough. You put the ears on him, stepping back to stare at him. 

What a beautiful sight he makes. 

“You were a bad boy.” You say as you close the box, moving it off the bed. “Humping your bed like a needy little pup.” 

“Am a needy pup.” He whines, hips bucking the air in desperation. 

“Naughty pups deserve punishment.” You ignore his words, moving to stand in front of him at the end of the bed. “You only get to watch.” 

His eyes widen as you begin to unbutton your shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. Your nipples pebble in the cool air as you untuck your shirt, undoing the last buttons before slipping it off your shoulders. You toss it on the floor before undoing your pants, sliding them down your legs. He lets out a whine as your lacy panties are revealed, blue just like your bra. He shifts on his knees again as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs. 

The lace is damp from your arousal, darkening the fabric. He licks his lips as you rub your damp slit over the lace. He loves lace, the sight of it enough to make his cock leak. He can cum untouched like a needy teenager if you get him worked up enough. You're tempted to do it, make him cum all over himself before he gets to touch you. 

That feels like too much of a reward. 

“You don't cum until mommy does.” You command, moving the lace to the side to drag a finger through your slit. 

He licks his lips, watching your shiny juices smear all over your skin as you rub your hand over your pussy. He’s enraptured, forgetting himself as he stares at your fingers and the way you spread yourself open for him to see. You’re doing it on purpose, goading him and distracting him to make him forget himself. All the more sweet torture for him. 

You stop your hand, covering your pussy from his sight. “I gave you an order.” You say, your voice stern. 

“Yes, mommy.” He stutters out, eyes still glued between your legs. “Don’t cum until ye do.” 

“Good boy.” You praise him, opening your legs wider. 

You circle your clit with a finger as you stare at him, those big blue eyes locked in on your hand between your legs. He’s picturing himself doing it, his fingers dragging through your folds, smearing your slick everywhere. You can tell by the way his fingers twitch where they rest on his thighs. He wants to taste you so badly he might start drooling soon. 

You won’t let him have it yet, sliding your hand down to press a finger into your pussy. You moan softly as you work your finger in, knowing you’ll need to prepare yourself regardless to take his thick cock. You can take it without preparation, but he’s far too eager to be gentle tonight, to take his time. 

You slip a second finger into your pussy, your head falling back as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Johnny shifts on his knees, hands curling into fists where they rest on his thighs. The wet sound fills the air as you thrust your fingers in and out, toes curling. You’ve been waiting for this as much as he has, your pussy throbbing for the last hour now. Still you pull your fingers from your pussy before you can cum, resting them against your inner thigh, spreading juices on your skin. Johnny is drooling now, his chin wet as his mouth hangs open just slightly. You can’t help but chuckle as you stare at him. 

Needy thing. 

You push yourself back up, staring at his cock for a moment. It looks painful, the nice side of you wanting to take pity on him, have mercy. This night is about him after all. It is his birthday. 

“Come here and make me cum.” You say, holding the lace out of the way. 

He doesn't hesitate as he crawls forward, immediately pressing his face against your folds. His tongue darts out, licking at your damp lips like the eager pup he is. He flicks his tongue over your clit, your stomach clenching at the warm sensation. He holds your gaze as he licks and sucks at your clit, slurping sloppily at the sensitive numb. Your lips are parted as you pant and moan, your hand lifting to grip his mohawk, pressing him harder against your pussy. He doesn’t complain, slick wetting his skin as he suckles at your clit, the sensations almost too much. 

“Gonna cum...” You moan. “Make mommy cum!”

He sucks harder at your clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over. You cum quickly, thighs squeezing around his head. Your hips grind against his face, your hand tightening in his mohawk, holding him in place. 

“Fuck....” You moan, his tongue still working at your clit, pushing you towards overstimulation. 

You have to tug him away from your pussy, your body shaking from the near overstimulation. His face is shiny, his mouth still parted as he stares up at you. You press your fingers against his tongue, his lips closing around them, licking the remnants of your juices off them. 

“Stand up.” You say, pulling your fingers free. 

He does as he’s told, standing over you. His cock is right in front of you, hard and throbbing. You spit on your hand before you wrap your fingers around him, smearing your spit all over his length. He groans, his hips thrusting as you begin to move your hand, jerking him off. 

“Gonna cum for mommy?” You ask, precum dripping around his foreskin. 

“Gonnae cum.” He moans, hips thrusting in time with your hand. “Don’t stop, please!” 

You don’t have any plans to, picking up the pace of your hand as you stare up at him. His cum is hot as it splatters against your chest, painting your skin as he moans low and deep. You pump him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He’s nowhere near done for the night, cock still hard in your hand. 

You release him, leaning back on the bed again. “You made quite the mess, pup. Clean it up.” 

He drops to his knees in front of you, leaning forward over you. His arms wrap around you as he begins to lick his cum from your skin. His tongue is warm as it trails over your skin, lapping at the streaks of cum across your chest, making sure to get every last drop of it. He follows the trail of it down to your stomach, stopping to suck at one of your nipples through the lace. You let him do it, moaning softly at the sensation. He trails his lips down your body to your thighs, licking up his cum as he goes. 

He tries to push your thighs apart but you tsk at him, nudging him gently with your foot. “I’ve got something better for you.” You sit up straight on the edge of the bed, putting you nearly face to face with him. You grip him by the collar, pulling him up so you can stare into his eyes, your breath mixing with his. “I want you to breed me.” 

“What?” He breathes, the puppy brain slipping just for a moment. 

He goes still, his eyes widening. He searches your face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or even a sign of mirth as you tell him you’re joking. You’re not. You rarely let him cum inside you, usually making him finish on your stomach before making him clean you up. He likes it too much, stuffing you full of his cum. You usually save it for special occasions like this one. 

You pull away as you shift on the bed, kneeling on the edge before bending down, arching your back to push your ass into his face. “You heard me. Be a good boy and breed me.” 

“Screaming Jesus.” He curses before rising to his feet, his hand falling to your hip. 

He slips his cock under your panties, thrusting it through the lace and your damp folds for a moment. You moan softly as his head catches on your clit, your hips pushing back against him. You've been thinking about this all day. It had been a rough day at work as your mind was only filled with thoughts of his cock inside of you. The temptation to slip into the bathroom and rub one out had been strong, but you didn't want to make things harder for you or him. 

You arch your back more as he pulls his cock back, pressing his tip against your hole. The comforter bunches as your hands sink into the fabric, holding on for dear life as his thick cock presses into you. You moan as he stretches you, rocking his hips to sink deeper and deeper. The stretch is always delicious, his cock like a bonus reward for choosing him as your puppy. Not just that, he knows how to use it. 

He folds himself over your back as soon as he’s seated inside you, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. His hands come to rest by your head, pushing himself deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck...that’s it puppy.” You moan, squeezing around him as he continues to rut into you like an eager pup. 

He is an eager pup. 

Your hands grip his wrists for support as his cock drags against that spot inside of you with every movement of his hips. He picks up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You’re the one almost drooling now as he rocks your body with his thrusts. He shifts, his knees coming to rest beside yours on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you. 

“God, fucking yes!” You moan, squeezing around his cock. 

He’s close, grunting in your ear as he ruts against you. You can picture his tail flopping back and forth, wagging excitedly as he finally fucks you after weeks of denying him your pussy. 

“Mommy. Mommy.” He moans desperately. “Please, can I cum? Please let me cum.” 

“Cum for me puppy.” You moan as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. “Be a good boy and cum in me.” 

His cum is warm as it spurts into you, his hips jerking before stilling as he spills into you with a whine. His cock is twitching inside of you, spilling the last of his cum before he pulls out. He moves off of your back, gripping your waist before he flips you over onto your back. You can’t find it in you to reprimand him for manhandling you, one of the rare moments he’ll take control while still in his puppy brain. 

“Gonnae breed ye mommy.” He grunts, slotting his body between your thighs. You haven’t cum yet and he knows that. “Gonnae fill ye right up till ye burst.” 

Fuck. 

You can’t do anything but moan as he shoves your panties to the side again, thrusting right into you before very much of his cum slips out of you. He fucks it back into you, his pace fast and hard. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down against you. You can see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth from the force of his thrusts, your legs shaking as you grip his collar. 

“Such a good boy.” You moan, thighs squeezing around his hips. “Such a good puppy for mommy.” 

“‘M yer good boy.” He moans, pressing his face into your neck. “Good puppy for mommy.” 

“Gonna make me cum?” You whine, getting closer and closer to the edge with every slap of his hips against your clit. He’s close again, whining as you squeeze around him. 

“Please,” He whines, his pace stuttering. “Please cum mommy.” 

You can hardly deny him as your back arches, body shaking as you cum around him. Your limbs coil around him like a snake, holding him in you as your fluttering walls force another orgasm from him. He spills into you again, spurting more cum into your pussy. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to pet his damp mohawk. He’s shaking over you, tail vibrating in the air. The night is far from over, his cock already growing hard inside of you again. 

You’re going to call in the morning and book those spa days. 

You continue to pet his hair as he grinds against you, humping you like a needy puppy. You press your face against the side of his, lips brushing his ear as you pant against his sweaty skin. 

“Good boy.” 

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[sunny-ssunset]

Pretty in pink!

Yandere South park x Girly! F! Reader Headcanons

What kind of yandere they are!

Includes Kenny, Stan, Kyle, Wendy and Bebe

Masterlist

TAGLIST: @giyusdarling

♡Sorry if this is really scary you don't have to read it, its not important to pretty in pink as of now, just depth into the characters. AGED UP

TW: SLIGHT NSFW, panty stealing, mentions of m*sturbation and s*x, Perverted Kenny, Stalking, Mentions of zaza, Slight hints to Body horror/gore

Kenny!

♡Poor little Kenny.....

♡Such an unfortunate situation

♡Addict parents...

♡Little to no money...

♡I mean, He didn't really care though

♡He didn't care the minute he spoke to the Y/n L/n.

♡Before He met you, he thought you were hot.

♡But he didnt really care to much about you until you had your first conversation with him.

♡You complimented his 'beautiful ocean eyes' as you called them.

♡No one compliments him

♡To put it nicely he stinks and he cant afford new clothes

♡He didnt realise how kind you were

♡Or how pretty you were

♡He was in love instantly

♡No, He was obsessed.

♡Now. Kenny is the type of yandere to steal pretty much anything you had.

♡From used bottles and Applecores to.... Underwear

♡And you do not want to know what he does to that stuff....

♡You being the sweet angel you are let him stay around some nights

♡Sometimes with Karen, Sometimes without

♡He is so fucking obsessed.

♡He obviously needs to protect his precious Y/n....

♡So wherever Y/n walks, Kenny follows

♡Sometimes He'll take pictures of you without you knowing

♡He cant help it.... You look so beautiful when you bendover....

♡He has a shrine of you

♡Kenny is just so lucky to walk on the same planet Y/n does

Stan

♡Now, Stan doesnt believe in god.

♡But the minute he saw you, He prayed you'd talk to him one day

♡And your pretty little self did!

♡God you were so perfect

♡He tried turning Wendy into you

♡I mean if he cant have the real thing why not just force her to be you

♡Now Wendy is already trying hard to be you

♡So Stan had a headstart

♡But Wendy could never shape up to you

♡He was so obsessed with you to the point where the only thing that got him off was you

♡Once he was having s*x with Wendy, He accidentally moaned your name and got really embarrassed. little did he know Wendy was into it

♡He was very obvious about his crush on you, with out even knowing it

♡Plus you're THE Y/n L/n! You knew everyone was obsessed with you, and you knew how to use and abuse it!

♡So when you figured that Stan had like unlimited access to a certain dr*g you liked

♡You were all over him!

♡Hooking up in the janitors closet, Or his truck, pretty much anywhere you can

♡Stan loved you so much, He started making his own Y/n.

♡Only to fufill the time being, He's planned to capture the real thing soon!

♡Unlike Kenny, He'd ask outright for your stuff, using the excuse

♡"Y/n you should leave some of your clothes here, For when you stay over"

♡When you obliged, He'd put them on to he doll and try gaslight you into thinking you never left your clothes there

♡Stan doesnt think you'd take lightly to doll Y/n.

Kyle

♡I think Kyle's the most normal out of everyone here, but even he's still a Yandere soo

♡He thinks bacause he knew you first, He deserves to have you

♡Kyle gets extremely insecure, He knows alot of his friends have a 'crush' on you.

♡And He gets really fucking jealous

♡Like He takes it out on you, and gets into fights with his friends

♡He doesnt care how many people he has to get rid of to be with you

♡He is so fucking lucky you're so kind

♡You forgive him every fucking time he acts up

♡You are just so kind

♡Your both meant to be

♡So so kind

♡Y/n and Kyle forever

♡You help him when he gets mad

♡And you love his attention

♡He cant wait until he can take you for his own

♡I mean Kyle loved you before anybody else did

♡He loved you before anybody else did

♡He was the first and only person to see you for what you really are

♡A God.

Wendy

♡Wendy Testaburger.

♡Your best friend

♡She knew almost everything about you

♡I mean she thinks she does

♡She likes to believe she does

♡She also knows about everyone liking you

♡Everyone except maybe Stan, I mean Its not like she'd care if you liked him

♡But she'd hope you'd tell her

♡Wendy thinks you are perfection

♡You and her have been very close for a WHILE

♡She's helped you through your ups and downs

♡She loves the fact your comfortable enough to be some what indecent around her

♡Like once you asked her if your boobs looked weird, Wendy almost fainted

♡She wants to see more of you like that....

♡Wendy wants to know everything about your body

♡So she can try replicate it on herself

♡Mutilate her hips into the correct shape

♡She doesnt care how much it hurts

♡She wants to become you so fucking bad

♡She picks up every habit you have

♡Wendy is your shadow

Bebe

♡Bebe is your typical Yandere

♡She adores you

♡Y/n does no wrong in her eyes

♡She hates the fact Wendy is your best friend not her

♡Or how you flirt and cuddle Kenny so much

♡Why can't it be her?

♡She acts like the others do

♡But you treat her no different to how you did before

♡What will it take for you to love her!!!!

♡Until, the perfect oppurtunity came to light

♡You were hooking up with Stan.

♡If She told Wendy

♡Wendy would hate you

♡Leaving you all to Bebe

♡It was the perfect plan

♡Perfect

♡No more Wendy

♡Just Y/n and Bebe

♡Y/n and Bebe forever!!

♡Forever

♡And ever

♡Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever Forever

f̧̨̛̗̗͎͉̦̾̊͒̂ͧ̉̌̇͆ͣ̌ͩ̅̂ͣ͊̀͠o̵̸̡̰͈͎̭̦̼̼̱̼̤͚̻͇̎̎̈̏͛̌̈ͬ̃̎͌̔ͫ͊ͯ̽́ͥͣͭ̎ͪͬ̕͞͝ͅr͎̩̤̠̺̯̈́ͣ͂̑ͦ̽ͧͧ̊͜͡ͅͅe_̵̟͔ͦ̒̀̈́͛̈́_̵͚̞̗̫̿̓́̾ͩͬ̓̇́̆͞v̨̼̦̪̼͎̟͑̄̍̃ͭ̃͛̾͒ͫͭ͝͠_̷͉̟̤͕͚̋ͭ̌͗͌̌͗̐̀͛͞͞ȩ̶̵̵̷̢̳͈͔̲̘͓̺̩̞͎͍̻̈ͪ̾ͥ̑̎͒̓̒ͣ͘͜͝͡͠͝͞͡ͅr̵̥̩̀ͫ̇ͧ͒ͤͮͩ͒͐͜͠_̢̪͖̱̾͆ͮ́̒ͤ͆͜͝

f̃o̷̶̱̩̳̹̭̓̀̆͒̅ͬ͘͡͡r̵ë̝ͪ_͔v̴̸̡̡̳̹̥̱̞̩̻̗̀͌͋̋̄̊ͮ͆̈́̒̋̑̀̏ͯ̀̚͜͢͟͜͡͝͠ͅe̵̢̢̧̝͙̰̜̯̼͇͓̜̙ͦ̉͒̆ͪ͗̈̐̾̈́̎ͪ͋ͨ̄̄̈́̔̆̐͗͊̓̊̕̕͟͟͝r̵̨̡̦͓̮̻͚̦̗͕͕̋̿̾̐̀̔̊̇͗̆̏̅̌̋ͧ̐ͮ̒͘͡͠ͅ

f̃o̷̶̱̩̳̹̭̓̀̆͒̅ͬ͘͡͡r̵ë̝ͪ_͔v̴̸̡̡̳̹̥̱̞̩̻̗̀͌͋̋̄̊ͮ͆̈́̒̋̑̀̏ͯ̀̚͜͢͟͜͡͝͠ͅe̵̢̢̧̝͙̰̜̯̼͇͓̜̙ͦ̉͒̆ͪ͗̈̐̾̈́̎ͪ͋ͨ̄̄̈́̔̆̐͗͊̓̊̕̕͟͟͝r̵̨̡̦͓̮̻͚̦̗͕͕̋̿̾̐̀̔̊̇͗̆̏̅̌̋ͧ̐ͮ̒͘͡͠ͅ

f̧̨̛̗̗͎͉̦̾̊͒̂ͧ̉̌̇͆ͣ̌ͩ̅̂ͣ͊̀͠o̵̸̡̰͈͎̭̦̼̼̱̼̤͚̻͇̎̎̈̏͛̌̈ͬ̃̎͌̔ͫ͊ͯ̽́ͥͣͭ̎ͪͬ̕͞͝ͅr͎̩̤̠̺̯̈́ͣ͂̑ͦ̽ͧͧ̊͜͡ͅͅe_̵̟͔ͦ̒̀̈́͛̈́_̵͚̞̗̫̿̓́̾ͩͬ̓̇́̆͞v̨̼̦̪̼͎̟͑̄̍̃ͭ̃͛̾͒ͫͭ͝͠_̷͉̟̤͕͚̋ͭ̌͗͌̌͗̐̀͛͞͞ȩ̶̵̵̷̢̳͈͔̲̘͓̺̩̞͎͍̻̈ͪ̾ͥ̑̎͒̓̒ͣ͘͜͝͡͠͝͞͡ͅr̵̥̩̀ͫ̇ͧ͒ͤͮͩ͒͐͜͠

Dividers by @k1ssyoursister