#kyle angst

[headless609]

Kyle Angst

Kyle has the most subtle trauma out of the boys. I believe that one of the reasons is because Kyle has an ego and dosent want it tainted by looking weak. And when we see Kyle with the gang we see him often as having quite the temperament and yelling out his shouts. And one might think that it’s just anger issues (which he has), but I think it has to do with his home life. In South Park movie Longer and Uncut, Sheila, Kyles mom, creates a full on war against Canada. And as we watch we see Kyle begging his mom to stop but it falling on deaf ears. Not only does his mother not listen but when cousin Kyle visits in The Entity (S5E11) we see her halt at the problem that her son and cousin have the same name. So what does she do? Call HER SON, “Kyle 2.” Kyle looked devastated. And it’s not just his mom. We all know season 20 and “SkankHunt” and how Gerald was trolling kids and people on the internet. And we see in E7 when Gerald says that Kyle overreacts and is a pussy. Not only that but Sheila and Gerald often leave Kyle alone with Ike causing Kyle, a 4th grader, have to babysit for how many hours. And I feel that’s why Kyle is seen lashing out and yelling because he thinks that no one wants to listen to him. And he feels like he is supposed to be perfect, because of Ike who is like… idk really really smart or somethin’. This makes Kyle feel like he has to prove himself and be ‘perfect.’ Ever wonder why Kyle is doing silly shit that is pretty bad and just being an asshole sometimes but then in some journey’s he’s stubborn and preachy saying it ‘isn’t moral.’ 

I tried my best and it definitely took a while to get this info cuz… idk research 🤷‍♀️ anyways, sorry if it was long ‘^ . ^ 

[fennecfiree]

ugh reading angst fics and sobbing

stoopid shitty kyle angst doodle

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[incorrectbatfam]

How small must the world be for both Bruce and Tim to witness John and Mary Grayson's deaths

Or for 10-year-old Duke to crack the Riddler's puzzle before Batman swoops in and saves the day, long before his powers came into play

Or for Sheila Haywood to leave her son only to end up assisting his killer a decade and a half later

Not to mention the popular fanon concept of Jason knowing baby Damian in the League of Assassins

Now imagine how many other invisible strings could've tied them together

Like what if Tim and Jason went to the same school when Jason was Robin but all they shared was the occasional bump and "excuse me" in the busy halls

Or what if Babs was a tutor and helped an elementary-aged Steph finally understand her homework only for the Browns to cancel after a couple sessions because they couldn't afford it

What if the first person to buy Cass a hot meal was Kate on one of her travels

What if Alfred witnessed young Selina shoplifting groceries but chose to turn a blind eye

What if Jason lived on the same streets as the Row siblings and gave little Harper tips on how to use tools and defend her brother

What if Steph and Duke shared the same school bus, only he sat in the front while she was toward the back

What if the first person to teach Tim how to tie his shoes was Bruce at a gala because Jack and Janet were busy talking to someone important

What if Bette did a DNA test for fun and found a connection in Nanda Parbat but just assumed the results was faulty because she knew her whole family, right?

What if 8-year-old Dick, the day before his parents died, stayed at a cheap hotel near Crime Alley and found 4-year-old Jason wandering alone and said, "I'll be your big brother for tonight"

What if the universe knew they were made for each other and wouldn't rest until they realized it too

[stinglesswasp]

Forehead smooches 💋

It's important to smooch your Soap at least once per day <3

[bloodyboi]

[empresskylo]

headcanons for the cod men if they found out you were a virgin... i promise this is not self indulgent 🫣

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 includes: ghost, price, soap, alejandro, konig, and gaz. afab!reader. female pet names used. reader refers to self as a woman.

GHOST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ ok ok ok, he would have never thought he’d want to be specifically with a virgin. like it never really crossed his mind before now, but he just assumed he’d always like being with someone more experienced. he likes a quick hook up. doesn’t have the time to be all gentle and soft and caring for someone who's never done it before, ya know? not that he's an asshole or anything, but he never thought he'd be the right person to take someone's virginity.

♡ but when you tell him you’re a virgin, something stirs inside him. he doesn’t mind. not one bit. if anything, he actually gets a little giddy, wanting to be the one who shows you how it’s done.

♡ and he ends up being rather sweet about it. he goes slow. he takes his time. he spends a good amount of time prepping you. “jus’ lay back, sweetheart. gotta make sure you’re good n’ ready to take me.”

♡ when it finally comes down to it, he’s easy to edge into you. you grip his shoulders tightly, squeezing your eyes shut. “gotta talk to me, love. gotta know i’m not hurtin’ you.” you nod and look up at him. “i’m okay. keep going. please.” he kisses your lips and continues in. after a few painstaking moments, “alright. i’m halfway. jus’ a lil more.” “only halfway?! jesus fucking—“ ghost laughs, his hand caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. when he’s finally fully seated, he groans, fisting the sheets beside your head to keep himself from rutting into full force.

♡ “ah. you okay, pet?” “y-yes. are you all the way in?” “mhm” “okay. just… give me a moment.” “take your time, love. we got all night.” you let yourself adjust for several moments. “can you move, now?” he kisses you, slowly dragging himself halfway out and then pushing back into you, making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. "you're so fuckin' tight," he groans as he tries to take his time. he doesn't want to hurt you.

♡ and he knows the rumor that women don't usually orgasm their first time, so he wanted to make sure you came at least twice before he shoved his cock in you. he wants you to associate this with a positive experience.

♡ and he tries his hardest to make you feel good too. he begins to rub your clit as he thrusts and you moan loudly. he grins. "you like that, princess?" you nod your head vigorously. and sure enough, he's able to make you come around his cock and he swears that was some of the best sex of his life. it wasn't the fact that you were a virgin, it was the trust and the intimacy of it that made this so good for him. he never thought he'd care for things like that until now.

PRICE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ price doesn't really mind either way, but he was definitely surprised when you told him -- he couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you had never slept with anyone. but he's honored that you'd trust him enough to experience that with him.

♡ he kisses you and lays you down on his bed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "jus' let me take care of you, love," he coos. you bite your lip and nod. he starts by going down on you, making you come on his tongue like he has before. then he's back above you, wanting your first time to be in missionary, making you as relaxed as possible.

♡ he even made it all sweet and lit some candles (":

♡ he constantly is getting consent and checking in on you. "you feelin' okay?" "jus' tell me to stop if you don't like it." "want me to keep goin'?" "tell me what you want, sweetheart." "this feels good, yeah?"

♡ when he's fully inside you, he strokes your hair and kisses you multiple times. "see, wasn't so bad," he teases gently.

♡ with price, it's really not awkward at all. he doesn't let it be. he's so sweet and considerate the whole time. when he's thrusting inside you, he checks to make sure he's not going too hard.

♡ and he knows the sex will only get better, so he tells you not to worry if you don't finish alongside him. and you don't finish with him, but he makes sure to get you off after.

♡ he holds himself inside you after he comes, grunting and panting above you. then he looks down at you. "i wanna feel you come on my cock, love." you look a bit confused and he starts rubbing your clit, keeping himself planted inside you. with the pressure of the situation over, you're much more relaxed and apt to orgasm. so it doesn't take you long to spasm around him, and he fucking loves it. "god, you feel amazing, princess." and he looks at you with such admiration as you catch your breath and come down from your high.

♡ "it will only get better from here," he teases.

♡ after he pulls out and gets up, he scoops you up too, making you squeal. he carries the two of you to the bathroom to shower and clean up. he washes your hair. helps you put your clothes on (making sure it's his stuff you're wearing) and pulls you into bed with him, his arm wrapped around you.

SOAP *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ johnny has no issue with it at all. he really thinks nothing of it. he didn't care if you were a virgin or not, so when you tell him, all it does is lets him know he needs to be a bit slower with you. and you truly appreciate him not making a big deal about it.

♡ it'd probably happen one time when you two are making out on the couch. things get a little heated and his hands are all over you. he gropes your breast through your shirt and you moan in his mouth. he pushes you back on the couch and teases your shirt up. "j-johnny," you say between kisses. "yes, lass?" "you remember i'm a virgin, right?" "mhm," he kisses you again. "did you want me t'stop?" "n-no," you whine as he rubs a hand over your clothed clit. "i just don't want to disappoint you." he looks at you in annoyance. "what? why would ya disappoint me?" he sees the shy look in your eyes like you're a bit ashamed. "lass, you could never disappoint me. i just want you. but if you don't wanna do anything, that's okay too." he kisses your nose and caresses the side of your face.

♡ with that out of the way, you tell him you do want to. he promises to go slow. and he does. he asks how you want it. you can ride him if that would make you more comfortable, being able to control the pace and all.

♡ you straddle him on the couch, soap's hands running all across your torso. squeezing and cupping your breast. gliding over your ribcage. going down to your ass and pulling you forward.

♡ you're slow when you lower yourself on him and johnny's head falls to the back of the couch, trying to contain himself. "you feel so good," he whines out.

♡ lots and lots of little praises. he wants to make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "that's it, love." "fuckin' hell, you’re takin’ me so well." "does it feel good?"

♡ and he'll rub your clit with his thumb, smiling as you collapse into him, your arms around his neck as you continue to bounce on top of him.

♡ you're definitely pleased when you orgasm around him, sending soap over the edge as well.

♡ then he kisses you, runs his hand through your hair, and pulls you into his lap where he'll tell you how good you were, how much he loved that. and he'll make sure you had a nice time too. wanting to make sure you feel good about yourself.

ALEJANDRO *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ gets a little bit of sick satisfaction knowing he’s going to have been the only one to have had you. “gettin’ you all for myself, then, mi amor?”

♡ even though he’s thoroughly enjoyed sex for years and has developed a taste for what he likes and dislikes, he’s charmed to be with someone who is so new at this. it’s a new experience for him in that sense.

♡ he definitely wants you comfortable before he tries anything, BUT, he goes absolutely fucking feral when he gets you to blush and act all shy and awkward. gets off embarrassing you. “you want me to fuck that tight little cunt of yours?” he says. your eyes widen and your cheeks get hot/flush. “a-alejandro” you whimper, a bit startled at his dirty mouth. “hmm? did you think my teasing stopped at the bedroom?” he winks.

♡ “tell me how you want it, mi amor. do you want my cock?” you nod sheepishly. “uh-uh,” he scolds. “gotta use your words.” you turn your face away from him in embarrassment. “yes.” “yes what?” “yes, i want your cock.” your entire body is on fire and alejandro grins madly. he never would have thought innocence would turn him on so much.

♡ but he’s really quite sweet in the moment. even though he does tease you quite a bit, he’s always reading your body and making sure he’s not hurting you and that you’re enjoying yourself. “just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says down at you. “okay?” he asks. you nod, “okay.” “esa es mi buena chica.” that’s my good girl.

♡ even though his is being careful, he can't help but get turned on when your nails are digging into his back and your face is scrunched up. "it's so much," you whimper out. that honestly sends him over the edge. he gets a little sense of pride knowing how intense everything was for you -- and for him.

♡ he makes sure you're not hurt once everything is done and he cleans you up and holds you close to him.

KÖNIG *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ you were a bit nervous to tell him, so you kinda waited until the last minute.

♡ könig had you pinned beneath him, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck, making you giggle. after he’s torn your clothes off and is back to attacking your lips, you break away to mumble at him. “i’ve… never done this before,” you said shyly. he looks at you, his eyes flickering between yours. “is this okay? do you want me to stop?” you shake your head. “no, no. i just wanted you to know.” he smiles and kisses you again.

♡ he’s okay with being your first, but it definitely makes him a bit nervous. he knows he’s going to have to be the one to take control of the situation, figuring you might be a bit shy/awkward and not know how to lead. but he’s okay with that.

♡ he also doesn’t want to hurt you. my guy is 6’7” so i mean… he’s got a big dick, i’m sure of it—he told me himself. he makes you orgasm like 4 times beforehand, absolutely tiring you out, but also making you relaxed and more ready for him.

♡ he’s planted between your legs and you're still panting from your last orgasm, and he lines himself up. “m’gonna go slow,” he tells you. you nod and he slowly enters you. your hands grip his shoulders tightly, already feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. (and even if you weren’t a virgin, it would still be like this tbh. size kink initiated)

♡ it takes a few minutes for him to bottom out. he does little half thrusts with only part of him inside you, trying to ease his way in. “i don’t think you can fit,” you whine out. “you can take it, liebling. jus’ a little—ungh—furtherrrrr—fuck,” he groans as he fills you completely. you’re whimpering under him, but mostly in pleasure.

♡ he catches his breath before asking you if he can move. you nod. he kisses your lips, mumbling against you, “i’ll be gentle.” he begins to rock into you.

♡ and he is. he’s slow and soft with you, mumbling praises. he tries his hardest to get you to give him another orgasm, rubbing your clit. you whine and squirm under him. you trust him so much that you’re actually relaxed enough to orgasm your first time with him.

♡ he’s stopped moving inside you so he can focus solely on rubbing your clit. finally, you clamp down on him and come. you’re so breathtakingly beautiful under him, squeezing him so fucking tight, that könig orgasms right then and there, without even having to move. both of you are a little shocked and you end up giggling.

♡ he lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest, his hands wrapped around you, while you stroke his hair. he leaves a little trail of kisses on your skin and you both lay there for a bit, content and entangled together.

GAZ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ gaz is a bit baffled about what to do. like he gives off hot shit energy, but when you tell him he’d be your first, he gets flustered. he feels pressured to make sure it’s good since he will be your first impression of sex.

♡ you end up having to tell him to calm down. “kyle, oh my god, it’s fine! it doesn’t have to be perfect. i just want it to be with you.” and that definitely relaxes him a bit. he just doesn’t wanna ruin this for you. it’s actually quite sweet.

♡ he’s on the bed, on top of you, kissing you and slowly stripping both of your clothing. when you’re both in underwear he makes an offer. “did you wanna be on top, love?” you give him an unsure look. “idk, i'm not really sure what i’m doing,” you say shyly, playing with the chain around his neck as it dangles above you. gaz rolls over and takes you with him. “you don’t havta if you don’t wanna, but this way you get to control everything. because shit… idk how well i’m gonna be able to control myself once i’m in you.” your face goes red hot.

♡ you take him up on his offer and stay straddling him. you let him help you line yourself up with him and you sink down ever so slowly, gritting your teeth as you do. gaz has his hands on your hips, panting as you take him teasingly slow. “that’s it, baby,” he encourages.

♡ your hands rest on his chest, sitting slightly forward as you take your time sinking down all the way. once you’re fully seated, gaz let’s out a guttural grunt, his eyes squeezed shut, his voice strained, “fuck—yeah, good t-thing you’re leadin’ this because with how fuckin’ good ya feel, i'd be tempted to fuckin' plow right into you.” his words leave you slightly embarrassed. gaz opens his eyes and looks at you lovingly. “ugh, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he groans.

♡ not only does his words make you more excited, but it makes you more confident. you begin to move up and down, putting your weight on your hands. gaz hands grip your hips tightly in his fingers, clawing at you as you ride him.

♡ after several minutes of this, he rolls you under him making you squeal. “i can’t hold back any longer,” he says as he slides out of you and thrusts back in. he definitely does it more powerfully than you were, but it doesn’t hurt. it feels good letting him do the work. he buries his head in your neck, “jus’ let me know if i’m going to fast.”

♡ it isn’t much longer until you’re squeezing around him, making him groan and grunt wildly. just hearing him like that, knowing it’s you causing it, has you spilling over the edge. the way you tighten around him sends him over the edge as well.

♡ you’re both panting as he lays beside you, pulling you into him. “jesus,” he murmurs. “i always thought it was supposed to kinda suck for women the first time,” you said. gaz looks down at you, running his fingers in your hair, and laughs. you both begin giggling, both ecstatic and feeling amazing. you’ve never felt closer to him in that moment.

♡ gaz couldn’t believe how good it felt to have you coming with him and he's so excited, he's rolling you under him, asking if you're ready for round two.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Joint Mission Author's Notes: This was supposed to be short but I had an epiphany after I finished Warnings: MDNI, Angst

This was a standard joint mission. Two teams, one task, in and out, and it's done. So why did John Price feel so nervous?

The mission seemed pretty straightforward and the new guys seemed formidable. Not at the same caliber as the 141, but they're getting there.

Really, everything looks fine, so why is he nervous?

But it didn't matter as he pushes his concern to the side as he greets the team of three on the tarmac. After some quick introductions, he guides the trio to the conference room where the rest of his team waits.

As they got closer, John felt his heart beating faster and faster. What was going on with him?

And he wasn't the only one as Johnny also had a bad feeling about this mission. However, unlike his captain, he actually voiced his concerns out loud.

"And why were we paired up with these guys again?" the Scotsman asks for the 5th time today. Ghost glares at him while Kyle groans. Gaz shoots you a quick glance to see if that had caught your attention. It didn't.

"I mean, why couldn't we get Farah and Alex to help us on this or even Los Vaqueros?" Soap adds.

"Laswell's orders," Kyle grunts out.

Honestly, the fellow Sergeant wasn't sure what the concern was. He could tell Price was also feeling something, but what? Laswell has never led them astray so this should turn out fine, right? The last time Laswell sent someone, things started out perfectly. As long as the 141 can act right, then things should go swimmingly.

Well, after first introductions, Kyle realizes that they're not the ones that need to act right. It's the new guys. Gaz caught the extra attention you got from the three.

"Sergeant Keegan P. Russ, at your service."

"Sergeant Kim Hong-jin, but you can call me Horangi."

"Lieutenant Nikto."

That last one would not have been so bad if you weren't the only one who got a handshake from the Russian.

Kyle knew he wasn't the only one to notice as he caught Ghost clenching his fist.

And Ghost was not going to let you go without a fight.

"Isn't there supposed to be four of you? Where's your captain?" he asks. Ghost stands tall and stares them down.

The three don't react as they take a seat at the table. It isn't until the three have settled in their seats that one of them speaks up.

"Our Captain already talked to yours so don't worry about it," Keegan replies. He stares back at Ghost, clearly not intimidated by the British Lieutenant.

"Great, so we're stuck with a Yankee, a gambling addict, and a commie," Ghost groans out.

"That's enough," you bark out. You shoot an incredulous look at the Lieutenant who immediately buckles down. You order everyone to take a seat so you can start your presentation. "The faster we get this done, the faster I can get back to work and you guys can continue whatever this is," you chastise.

The new team immediately voices their agreement which made Ghost's blood boil.

As you go over the details of the mission, Price looks around the room and catches the way the three new soldiers stared at you. Something in their eyes didn't sit right with him. It looked way too familiar, it almost reminded him of his bo... oh hell no.

He calls out your name and says, "you know what, I can take it from here." He pushes his chair out and places his hands on his knees, getting ready to stand up. However, before he can even get up, you immediately speak up.

"What do you think you're doing?" You ask. You're clearly not impressed.

Price feels the energy in the room shift. He looks at you sheepishly and repeats himself. "I can finish it from here."

You scoff. "Captain Price," you slowly say, "what's my position here?"

"The 141's Intelligence Operative."

"Close, the 141's temporary Intelligence Operative," you correct him. John feels his heart clench. You fail to notice his heartbreak and continue, "and what's my role as the Intelligence Operative?"

"Deal with anything and everything that has to do with intelligence. I think I got it, I'm--"

"No, no, no. I'm not done," you bite back. You're obviously annoyed. It seemed like you were annoyed most days here. "And this presentation, what is it about?"

"Intelligence surrounding our newest mission," John grumbles out.

"Okay, okay. So, if this presentation has to do with intelligence, who should do it?" You stare at him, eyes wide, waiting for an answer.

Horangi raises his hand which catches you off guard. "Yes, Sergeant Kim." Now you're sheepish, embarrassed that the new guys had to see you like this.

"Please, call me Horangi," he assures you. Much to John's dismay, that seemed to ease your concerns. "If I may, I think the answer that you're looking for and your captain forgot is that you should be doing this presentation, and I completely agree." Despite your straight face, your eyes glowed with content. You thanked Sergeant Kim and turned your attention back to Price.

"Is that okay with you Captain? May I continue?"

John just nods, feeling absolutely embarrassed and ashamed with himself. What the fuck was he thinking?

As you continue with your presentation, the 141 oscillate their attention from you to the new guys. Ghost catches the gentle look in Nikto's eyes. Johnny recognizes the look of admiration on the Keegan's face and Kyle notices the excitement in Horangi's eyes. And Price finally understands the root of his worries as he realizes that this new task force is looking at you the exact same way that you used to look at them.

It seemed like the one thing that the boys were avoiding could very much happen now and it would all be their fault.

Word Count: 980

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[piggycyberwarrior]

Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you

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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!

Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read

genre: ANGST

+ 1,6k words

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

You thought you were going insane.

Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.

Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.

Fuck all that bullshit.

Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye

Everything was a lie, apparently.

The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.

In the end you didn't care. Just waited.

When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.

of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.

But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.

You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.

Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-

the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.

Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.

.

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.

You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.

You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.

Simon.

The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.

You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.

You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down

You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.

You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.

In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.

.

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.

heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.

Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.

The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.

You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.

"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.

He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.

You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.

"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.

.

Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.

"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.

You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.

His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.

"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-

he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-

Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-

"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.

"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.

He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.

Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.

Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.

He had to do his job- protect his family.

Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.

"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.

.

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.

You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.

They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.

But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.

The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.

Fucking. Revenge.

-

!please do reblog! :)

join the Taglist here (Taglist post)

[alovember]

"I know why you are the way that you are, but you're still being an asshole"

[gloomwitchwrites]

What if prompt for the 141: In the Rain

"It's pouring rain, why are you here?" Or something to this nature. I love a confession in the rain, stuck in the rain, kissing in the rain, all of it! Lol

I too love a good confession in the rain. That final scene in Pride & Prejudice is still peak confession in the rain trope for me. I think about it all the time. I think about it on repeat. I want it tattooed on my eyelids. When I think "in the rain," I think of that scene.

So, these aren't smutty by any means but one (maybe two) have some spice to them. They are full of love and longing. There are emotions, angst, and lots of kissing. It's our soaked to the bone 141 boys confessing their hearts in the pouring rain.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief mention of alcohol, suggestive themes, grief/mourning, love confessions, kissing, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings, intimacy, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

There are few things that John Price indulges in.

Cigars. Whiskey. The thought of you as his woman.

That last one plagues him. It burrows in. Makes a home every night to flood his dreams with images of you. John awakens each morning with you on his mind—and then you linger the rest of the day, crawling forward to say hello when he least expects it.

John sits on a barstool in a dive bar, contemplating life in the bottom of his whiskey glass. It’s the middle of fucking nowhere, but that’s the point. This isn’t a celebration or a job well done. This is a “thank fuck it’s over” drink.

The dive bar is dark and smoky. A jukebox in the corner endlessly rotates between eighties rock and country music. Next to the jukebox is a pool table where a group of three play. Otherwise, the place is entirely empty.

John knocks back the rest of his whiskey, signaling the bartender for a refill. He’s only half-listening to the conversations around him.

Laswell, MacTavish, Garrick, and Riley are all here. Simon is silent, staring off into space as the other three have an animated conversation. You’re here too, sandwiched between MacTavish and Riley. You’re not speaking, but you are listening, nodding your head at all the right moments.

But you look tired. Like you’re about ready to pack it up and call it a night. It’s deserved. This mission sucked. It was brutal. Tough. A complete shit-eating stink of a job. You aren’t part of the team. Not really. Laswell dragged you in last second, and John is happy that she did. Otherwise, he’d never have met you.

And that would be a tragedy.

John only has eyes for you. It is a sweet tooth that cannot be satiated. He’s been a bit reserved in how he’s approached you, but you always have a soft smile for him or a cheeky remark. It’s devolved into flirting at times, and at points so blatant that everyone else chimes in.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you yawn, pushing your empty glass to the edge of the bar. The bartender walks by and snags it, whisking it away to be deposited into the sink.

This is it. You’re about to walk away. John will likely never see you again unless Laswell decides to call on you. This might very well be his only chance.

You slip off your barstool, and John abruptly stands, his leg smacking into Laswell’s stool. Everyone—including Simon—turns in John’s direction.

He coughs. Clears his throat. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he says quickly.

MacTavish smirks and elbows Gas in the arm. The two men exchange a knowing glance before they both raise their eyebrows at John. MacTavish even shakes his shoulders a bit. John shoots them a cold look over your shoulder. They stifle their laughter behind their glasses.

You don’t notice at all. Your focus is on John, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

The entrance of the dive consists of one interior door, a small entryway, and an exterior door. As the two of you enter the small entryway, a crack of thunder erupts overhead. You pause, staring out the small window on the exterior door. It’s not pouring, but the rain is steady. Getting caught it in for any period of time will likely result in soaked clothes.

You turn slightly in his direction, and John is suddenly aware of how cramped the space is.

“You don’t need to walk me to my car,” you say softly, gesturing toward the downpour. “Not with the rain.”

John shrugs. “I want to.”

It’s true. He does. But there is an ulterior motive here. This is his one chance to have a final goodbye or a new start.

You smile softly, gaze flicking down to the floor before returning to his face. John’s cheeks heat—and it’s ridiculous. He’s a grown fucking man. He doesn’t get flustered. But this space is small. It is far too cramped. John is nearly on top of you.

Beneath those long eyelashes are your gentle eyes. It’s a look you only give him. Your lips part slightly. They’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. He wants nothing more than to lean down and close the distance.

“Okay,” you reply with a teasing laugh, opening the door.

The earthy scent of rain hits him first and then the pattering of the falling rain comes next. You slip out the door and stand close to the building under the small awning, attempting to stay out of the rain. John follows behind, coming up next to you.

Your smile is sweet as you gaze up into the dark sky. But then you turn to him, and that smile morphs into something devious.

“Should we race to the car?” you ask, as if conspiring.

John grins. “Think you can beat me?”

You laugh. “An old man like you? Absolutely.”

John can’t help but smile back, nudging you with his elbow. “Not that old.”

“What do I get if I win?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“A kiss,” says John automatically. It rolls right off his tongue. There is no way for him to take it back. And he doesn’t want to. “What do I get if I win?”

You wait a beat. And then answer.

“A kiss,” you reply slowly.

A kiss.

John blinks, his mind momentarily stuttering out. Your grin widens, and then you’re off, sprinting into the rain and to the car.

John nearly trips as he jogs after you. The gravel is slick and the rain splatters against his jacket. He isn’t all that interested in racing. John is only watching you, and the way your ass bounces as you make for the car. Your curves are lovely. He imagines opening the rear door and pushing you into the back seat, only to drag you into his lap to take whatever he wants.

You make it before he does, but John is right behind, nearly sliding to a stop in the wet gravel. You turn toward him, grinning. Pieces of hair stick to the sides of your face. John cannot help himself. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you in.

You don’t resist. You surrender.

John’s mouth crashes against yours and you open beautifully for him. There is no one kiss. There are many. Multitudes. It is endless. It is rain-laced. Whiskey-drenched. John might have the buzz of alcohol in his veins but you are quickly replacing it.

Your lips part and John slides his tongue inside. Your hands grab at him, fingers digging in. The two of you are pressed together, rain falling to drench clothing and skin.

With a low groan, John pushes you up against the car, intensifying his kisses. You eagerly greet him, accepting them all, returning them in equal measure. You are just as desperate. Just as hungry. Time is an illusion—and it isn’t until you shiver beneath him that John pulls away, aware that the two of you are now soaked through.

“Why are you still here?” you ask.

“You don’t know?” he replies, his hand cupping your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“It’s pouring, John.”

“I know.” You smile, and John goes in for one more kiss. “Do you not feel this? Am I the only one?”

You shake your head. “I feel it. Everywhere, John. I feel you everywhere.”

“Let’s go. Get out of here.”

“Right now?”

John’s grip tightens and you gasp, hips pressing against his.

“Right now.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The rain is light but steady. It falls from the cloudy sky to patter against your umbrella.

The graveyard is empty, and yet you knew Simon would be here. He always is on the anniversary of Johnny’s death. Like clockwork. It’s routine for him. A ritual.

Simon’s back is to you, his head bent as he stands in front of Johnny’s grave. There is no body there. It’s ornamental. Something for family and friends. There are fresh flowers next to the headstone.

You have no idea how long Simon has been out here. Simon has no umbrella with him, and the hood of his jacket is off. He’ll catch a chill like this, which is why you came. Seeing him like this is always difficult, and since Johnny’s passing, Simon has grown more attached.

He is always checking in on you—always near. You’d call it protectiveness but it feels more like obligation. A duty. Most days, Simon appears to be on the cusp of telling you something, revealing a secret that he’s itching to confess. You don’t know what it might be. Couldn’t take a guess. But you have thought about it. You have imagined all sorts of possibilities.

The two of you are always finding the other. Always reconnecting. Always reaching out. If it’s not him, it’s you. Perhaps it’s Johnny’s death that has brought this on. Whatever it might be, Simon is closer to you than he’s ever been, and sometimes it frightens you.

It feels like more.

“I brought you an umbrella,” you say to Simon’s back.

He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder. Simon’s gaze sweeps from the ground and then lands on you. His hair is wet and droplets of water speckle his face like freckles.

Simon fully turns toward you.

The rain picks up a bit, soaking Simon further. You rush to him, holding your umbrella over his head, cutting off the rain. The two of you stand under it in silence, simply staring at each other. Time stretches, and then Simon’s hand rises, wrapping around your own where you hold to the handle.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

You swallow, and gather your courage. “You shouldn’t grieve alone.”

Simon’s brow softens. “I’m supposed to be the one looking after you.”

“I never asked you to,” you reply.

“But Johnny did.”

You start, eyes widening slightly. “What do you mean?”

Simon licks his lips. A droplet of water drips from the tip of his nose. “I made a promise. To Johnny. I made a promise to him.”

“What promise?” you whisper as the rain picks up more. The rain strikes the top of the umbrella in loud patters that nearly drown out your voice.

Another droplet falls from Simon’s nose. He leans in slightly, and the movement is confusing. It’s too intimate, like he wants to close the distance.

“I promised that I would—” he abruptly cuts off, swallowing. Simon’s gaze darts from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

“What is it, Simon?”

He sighs. “Fuck it,” he growls, shredding any distance there might have been between your bodies.

Simon claims your lips, kissing you so completely that you’re momentarily stunned. You taste the rain. Mint. A slight hint of smoke. You return the kiss, not pushing him away or pulling back. You open for him, accepting it all, and Simon continues to take, his free arm wrapping around your waist to draw you closer.

Even though he’s drenched, Simon is incredibly warm. It’s unfair how he can be an inferno in this downpour.

The graveyard is forgotten. The rain is a distant. There is only Simon’s lips, and the groan he makes when you return each kiss in equal enthusiasm.

Simon goes in for a quick nip before drawing away. It leaves you breathless and wanton.

“Was that part of the promise?” you ask, only half-joking.

Simon shrugs. “In a way.” You arch an eyebrow and Simon smiles softly. “I told Johnny I’d make a move. And now I have.”

“Yes,” you agree, heat blooming in your cheeks and your core. “You have.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

There is no turning back.

You made a choice. Kyle made a choice.

This is how it is.

You don’t want to be at the airport. You don’t want to leave. This entire situation is shit. But Kyle seemed willing to let you go. He’s not here. He didn’t beg you to stay. He didn’t try to convince you that all he wants in life is you.

That’s all you need. To be wanted. To be loved.

After all of this—after everything, and Kyle isn’t here.

You’re not mad. Not really. You are both adults. You both have made a choice. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean you don’t understand. Because at the end of the day, you do. Truly.

Sighing, you haul your suitcase over the curb and on the sidewalk. The Uber that brought you here is already pulling away to go pick up someone else. The airport is packed on the inside, and the rain that falls from the sky in sheets. You have a coat, and the hood is up, but what you really need is an umbrella.

Already, you feel the water seeping into the unprotected places. Rain does that sometimes. Trickles in where it isn’t wanted.

You start to pull your suitcase behind you. A wheel catches in a small crack, and it nearly takes you down with it. Stumbling forward, you put a hand out to catch your fall. You expect your bare palm to land on concrete. To burn with pain.

But you don’t make it to the ground. You don’t touch it at all.

There are arms around you. They are strong. And somehow so damn familiar it’s frightening.

Then, you’re being lifted, guided back to your feet. Those strong arms ease you onto solid ground, and then you’re turning to thank the stranger that’s saved you from falling face first into the concrete.

But it is no stranger.

“Kyle,” you breathe, staring into the face of the man you’ve loved for years now.

Something breaks. Shatters.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Kyle hasn’t let you go. His arms are still around you. Your hands grasp his biceps, and his jacket is slick with rain. His hood is not up. And yours has fallen at some point. Already, the rain is soaking your hair. Strands of it stick to your face.

“Coming to right a wrong,” he says. Your lips part but Kyle shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t fight hard enough. I let you slip through the cracks.”

Kyle draws you in a bit closer. The people passing by and the cars are distant.

“I should have told you ‘I love you’ every day. I should have been present.”

“Kyle—”

Your next words are stolen. Kyle closes the distance, and then you’re wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, sinking into the kiss.

You can’t leave now.

You can’t.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The rain falls gently from the sky.

Johnny grins, staring up into it, opening his mouth. His tongue is out to capture the droplets. You laugh, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, going in for a quick kiss on his cheek.

As you draw back, one of Johnny’s hands shoots out, snagging your arm. You playfully yelp, and swat at him, thinking that Johnny will let you go. He’s flirty, and sweet, but there is nothing more to it.

At least, you didn’t think so.

But Johnny’s gaze is heated, and the way he holds you against him is far too intimate to be anything other than what it is.

“Johnny,” you laugh, trying to play it off, but he remains firm.

His smile faulters slightly but it’s not a frown. It’s a heated stare. His gaze is on your lips, and you can see the desire there. What would happen if you went for it? If you kissed him?

“What are we doing?” he asks. “Can’t I have you?”

Startled, everything leaves your head. “What?”

Johnny’s gaze flicks up, and those gorgeous eyes drown you—submerging you in his depths. “Why are we stepping around this? We want each other.”

You do want him, but you thought it was mostly one-sided.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, softly.

Johnny smirks, and then he’s lifting you up into the air, placing you on top of the low stone wall. “Should I use my words?” he asks, fingers sliding underneath your rain-drenched shirt. He is warm, and his touch heats your skin. “Or should I show you with my body?”

Johnny nips at your bottom lip as his hands ascend. One slides between your breasts just as his lips meet yours. Your core clenches, and then you’re grabbing for him, touching him as much as he’s touching you.

The two of you are in the Scottish countryside. There are no people around. Just the two of you, and rolling green hills.

Johnny slots himself between your legs, and you reach beneath his kilt, finding him hard and wanting. He hisses, and then groans when you stroke him.

Everything is warm. Everything is rough.

It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, or that it’s a bit cold. You allow Johnny to shove articles of clothing aside, to find the places where you’re needing him to be. His touch is a brand, and you love how it feels, pulsing through your loins like an overheated engine.

“Johnny,” you gasp into the rain, fingers threading through his hair as he goes to his knees to taste between your thighs.

There is only heavy breath. A twisting of pleasure.

When he finally brings your bodies together, there is nothing but him. Nothing but you. Just two people finding each other.

The rain is nothing.

It isn’t even cold anymore.

Johnny is all heat. And you are burning for him.

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[writingforcuteppl]

Enchanted (Kyle’s Version)

PAIRING: Kyle Broflovski x Reader

SUMMARY: Remembering can be bittersweet, and each and one of them have been since you were little. That doesn’t mean all the memories are joyful. But in the end, you were enchanted to meet them.

GENRE: Angst, Fluff.

WARNINGS: Swearing, mention of eating disorders, depression, panic attacks, bullying (if you squint).

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words

PART: 2.1 (series masterlist)

3rd Grade

“This is our first year together, right?” you turned your gaze to the redhead boy who sat down next to you. You were waiting for one of your friends to arrive, or well, you were expecting him to be in the same class as you.

“Yeah. You’re Kyle, right?” you asked him. Even if you were in different classes, you knew who he was since it was easy to hear the girls in your class and his class talk about the cute redhead boy all the time.

“And you must be Y/n. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You know who am I?”

“Well, last year I was in the same class as Kenny, who I know is your best friend. He just couldn’t stop talking about this fantastic friend he has.” you smiled.

“Yeah, he is my best friend. I hope he didn’t say anything bad tho. I’d punch him if he did.”

“Don’t worry. He didn’t. But I wished he at least mentioned you were cute” You hid your face in your hands. You felt your heart’s pace get quicker. You turned your head to Kyle.

“I think you are cute too.”

“It’s recess time. You’re supposed to be eating” Kyle sat beside you on the ground.

“I forgot my lunch,” you sighed. “And well, I’m not really fond of the idea of eating a ham sandwich again for the 100th time.”

“You are telling me all these days I’ve seen you eat a sandwich. It has been a ham sandwich every time?” You nodded, and Kyle was shocked. He always thought there were variations of it. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. It’s just I know my mom tries hard to prepare me something for lunch, but I actually wish I could have something more for lunch. Or at least that the sandwich had more than just ham. I saw one picture where a sandwich had lettuce and tomatoes. That would be nice.”

“So it’s literally two slices of bread with a slice of ham in the middle?”

“Yeah.”

“You know what? I’m not letting that continue. Here have half of my lunch” Kyle gave you 4 pieces out of the 8 nuggets his mom sent him for lunch. “I’ll tell my mom to pack an extra portion from now on.”

“Kyle, I can’t accept, look, I can tell my mom to give me money for lunch,” you lied to him. You knew pretty well your mom wouldn’t give you money since she thought you would spend it on something else.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. We can give your sandwich to pigeons or another animal so it wouldn’t go to waste, but I’m not letting you keep eating only that. You need proper food at this age.” you sighed. You looked at Kyle directly into his eyes. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Fine, but let me repay you in some way.”

“I’ll think about it.”

4th Grade

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” you turned around to where the voice was coming from. Kyle was standing behind you.

“What do you mean?” you were finishing packing up your stuff, ready to go home, when Kyle stopped you before leaving the classroom.

“Don’t try to hide it from me. I can see it in your face. Something happened last Christmas, and you haven’t been the same. I tried to not bother you for the past months, but you’re not the same” Kyle was able to see how you were trying to come up with something, but he knew he wasn’t going to get any information from you. “Just, I want you to know that if you ever need anything, you can count on me, Y/n.”

Kyle was ready to leave the classroom when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in for a hug. The first hug the two of you shared. Kyle hugged you back, and he realized you had started crying. He didn’t know what to say next, but he knew something. He hated seeing you like this, making his heart break into a million pieces. You didn’t say anything at all. You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity until you could calm yourself. You really wanted to say something about what happened to you to Kyle, but it was way too personal.

“Thanks, Kyle. Maybe one day I’ll tell you, ok?” Kyle only nodded and kissed your wet cheek.

“What are you still doing here, Y/n? I thought you always leave with Kenny” Kyle saw you standing at the school’s entrance as if you were waiting for someone, no, for something to leave the school.

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t feeling good today and left early. His mom picked him up.”

“And why are you still here? It’s been 20 minutes since everyone has left.”

“I can ask you the same, Kyle.”

“Well, I needed some help from Mr. Garrison for my project, so I stayed behind. And you?” Kyle was looking at you, and you hid your face in your hands. He smiled.

“Promise not to laugh” You handed out your left hand to him with your pinky out while your right hand was still covering your face. Kyle linked his pinky to yours.

“I promise” For the first time since he found you, you were able to look at him in the eyes.

“It’s just that… Agh, this is so embarrassing. But I haven’t been by myself in the streets ever. And I know my house is just a couple blocks away, but I’m scared. My parents always came for me until the beginning of this year, and that’s when Kenny offered to walk me to my house every day. But today he’s sick, so this will be the first time I’m walking alone….” Kyle didn’t laugh as you expected, but he was smiling. He felt his heart flutter. You were just way too pure.

“I understand, but you know you can’t stay here forever.”

“It’s been only 20 minutes Kyle. I’m just waiting for the courage to come to me. I’m a big girl now,” you answered back.

“Oh well, I was going to offer to walk you home, but since you are a big girl, you can do it by yourself” Kyle started to walk outside the school when he felt your hands grab his arm. Kyle couldn’t help but smirk.

“WAIT! Since you’re offering, how can I say no to you, my dearest friend!” Kyle could see your relieved semblance. He noticed one of your hands never left his arm. Actually, he was able to feel your hand slowly making its way to his hand until you were holding hands. Kyle looked at you and then at your hands which were now intertwined. You looked at him with questioning eyes until you realized what you were doing.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I’m just so used to holding Kenny’s hand.” you were trying to let go of Kyle’s hand, but his grip was stronger.

“I’m not gonna let you go. I like it. You started it. Now commit to it.” You laughed and stopped trying to let go of him.

“If Kenny’s not able to walk you home, tell me. I will love to do it, ok?”

“Ok.”

5th Grade

“So you won’t believe who I saw crying outside Mr. Mackey’s office,” Wendy said to Red and Bebe.

“Omg, who?” Kyle rolled his eyes after hearing the girls gossiping once again when they should be helping him, and Kenny prepare the next project Mr. Garrison assigned.

“Y/n,” Kyle and Kenny froze. “She was literally bawling; she-”

“When?” before she could finish the sentence, Kyle interrupted her.

“A few moments ago. Why do you-” Kenny and Kyle didn’t even wait for her to finish when they made their way to Mr. Garrison. He was reading something on his phone, not even bothering if his students were working on their projects at all.

“Mr. Garrison, can we leave for a few minutes, please?” Kenny asked him. Kyle was able to see his nervousness.

“Why would I let you do that, Kenny?” Mr. Garrison turned his gaze to the two boys standing in front of him.

“A friend of ours, Y/n, we heard she’s not feeling right, and we want to make sure she’s ok. I promise we will return as soon as we make sure she’s fine, please.” Kyle answered, and Mr. Garrison was able to see the two kids were anxious. He saw they were telling the truth and not only a lie to leave class without permission. Mr. Garrison handed them the hall pass.

“Don’t get distracted and come back after making sure she ok.” Mr. Garrison returned his attention to his phone, and Kyle and Kenny quickly left the classroom.

Kyle and Kenny were running to Mr. Mackey’s office. Kyle felt his heart beating so hard. Something definitely happened to you if you were crying in public. The closer they were getting to the office, the more he felt his heart coming out of his chest.

They saw you sitting on one of the chairs that were outside the counselor’s office. Kyle could see Mr. Mackey was trying to calm you down, but you were still crying, and it didn’t seem you were stopping any time soon.

Kyle realized it wasn’t only crying. He could see your scared semblance. Kenny ran to you and knelt in front of you. Kyle got closer to Mr. Mackey and showed him the hall pass. Mr. Mackey just nodded and thought maybe your two friends would help better than him. He left the three of you to talk.

“Princess,” Kenny started to speak, trying to get your attention. Kyle saw the way you were holding your chest. You looked at Kenny and tried to talk, but it seemed that whenever you tried to speak, your breathing started to become more hectic than it already was. You were having a panic attack. Kyle saw Kenny also begin to cry, not knowing what was happening to you. That’s when Kyle stepped in.

“Hey, I need you to breathe with me, ok?” Kyle grabbed your attention and placed one hand over your hands that were still on your chest. You only nodded to him. He took one of your hands over his chest so you could feel his breathing. You slowly started to calm down, but the tears continued rolling out of your eyes. The two of you stayed like that until Kyle could see you were ok. Kyle smiled at you.

“You did great, sweetheart.” you only nodded.

“What are you doing here?” you asked them.

“We came as soon as we heard you were crying,” Kenny said, and you were able to see his puffy face.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I’m sorry” You almost started to cry again after realizing the two of them got worried because of you. Kenny knelt again in front of you and grabbed your face by the cheeks.

“Hey, hey, don’t you dare to think anything bad at this moment.” Kenny began cleaning your tears with his sweatshirt sleeve.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kyle asked you while he was tucking a strand of your hair in your ear. You shook your head, wanting anything but to remember the reason for your attack.

“Don’t you have to get back to class?” you asked worriedly. Your teacher knew you were with Mr. Mackey, but you knew they only had permission to leave for just a few moments since you could see the hall pass hanging from Kyle’s hand. Before they could answer you, Mr. Mackey came out of his office.

“You are better, Miss Y/L/N?” You nodded and gave your counselor a reassuring smile. “Then I believe you have to get to class, the three of you. If you need to talk, my door’s always open, kids.”

“Thanks, Mr. Mackey,” Kyle answered him, and the counselor returned to his usual spot in his office.

Kyle and Kenny were both grabbing your hands while walking back to your classroom. Having them by your side always made you feel at peace. When the three of you arrived at your classroom, Kenny kissed you on the cheek.

“We’re gonna talk later when school finishes, ok? Wait for me here.” Kenny moved away so Kyle could say goodbye to you.

“Just if you feel it’s going to start again, try breathing slowly, ok?” you nodded, and he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, guys,” you whispered and entered your classroom. Kyle and Kenny let out a loud sigh. They may not have that much in common now, but they knew they would do anything for you.

6th Grade

Kyle saw you laying your head on your desk. He couldn’t quite see if you were just resting or if you actually fell asleep. He knows for a fact you haven’t been sleeping properly for quite some time now, so he doesn’t want to disturb you if you’re asleep.

He slowly made his way to the chair that was free next to you and sat down. Kyle could see your face better. You were definitely asleep. Your face was peaceful, and not a glimpse of stress was on it. You looked like an angel to him. Well, you always looked like one to him. Ever since he met you, he has thought you were way too perfect to be actually real.

“So pretty,” Kyle whispered.

Kyle was able to admit he was now in love with you. But unfortunately, he wasn’t going to be ever with you, all because of that stupid pact he made a few years ago with Stan and Kenny. He regretted that pact ever since he realized you were his everything.

He tucked a strain of hair that was covering your face in your ear. He tried to not wake you up, but of course, he managed to wake you up. You yawned and opened your eyes, trying to adjust your sight to the classroom’s light.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, sweetheart. Sorry,” You didn’t care you woke you up, and most importantly, you didn’t mind if Kyle was the one who did it. You smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t fully asleep. I was just, you know, resting” You stretched out your arms and then grabbed one of Kyle’s hands, reassuring him it was ok.

“So… You think I’m pretty?” you asked the boy, and Kyle felt his cheeks burning.

“Yeah, I mean, you know you’re pretty right,” you let out a laugh.

“Oh, so you just said it because you think I think I’m pretty?” you asked.

“No.” Kyle knew it was now or never. “I do think you are pretty. Really pretty.” you smiled at him.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Kyle. Really pretty.” Kyle wasn’t used to hearing compliments, so when he heard those words coming out from you, his heart was ready to come out of his chest.

Kyle slowly started to approach you. You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, and you held your breath. Could this be it? Was Kyle gonna be your first kiss? Kyle grabbed your right cheek and stroked it with his thumb.

"Fuck the stupid pact!" Kyle thought. He was looking at your eyes and then at your lips, going back and forth, just wanting to make sure you enjoyed this as much as he did. You smiled at him. That was enough reassurance for him to keep going forward. Since he was getting closer, you were able to perceive his smell. Cinnamon and apple. He smelled sweet. Before he could actually kiss you, he stopped just mere inches away from you.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” He smiled. Your lips were almost touching…

“Y/n!” Kenny entered the classroom shouting and looking for you. You and Kyle pulled apart before Kenny could see the closeness between the two of you. When you turned your head to the door, you were able to see Kenny was making his way to you, and Stan was looking at Kyle with anger. You wanted to ask Kyle about it, but you decided to brush it off and ask Kenny what he needed.

“I forgot we had an exam today. Can you please, please, please help me?” Kenny was giving you puppy eyes. Kenny knew he interrupted one really important moment for you, so he knew he needed to be extra sweet and careful with you.

“I swear to god, Kenny, you are so... God, why do you have to be so inopportune?”

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, whatever. You owe me big time, McCormick” You turned your head to Kyle and muttered a “Sorry” to him. You stood up so you could follow Kenny, but before leaving, you turned around and went back to Kyle and kissed him quickly on the cheek. You didn’t give him a usual kiss tho. It was tender and sweet. Kyle smiled.

“Maybe another time,” you whispered in his ear and gave him another quick kiss on the cheek.

You were sure Kyle Broflovski was going to be your first kiss someday.

8th Grade

Kyle was nervous. He went away for one year. Not only because his dad decided to move to San Francisco due to work, but he was also an important factor in his father’s decision. He needed time to forget whatever feelings he had for you.

The last time he was at South Park, he got into a fight with Stan and Kenny since he wanted to break the pact where the three of them decided that none of them were going to be ever with you for the sake of their friendship. Still, at the end of the day, the two of them were the closest ones, so why did he have to be involved in that pact too?

Anyways, Kyle was sure those feelings were long forgotten in San Francisco. He was really sure if he saw you again, he wouldn’t feel anything at all. And then you entered the classroom. Kyle’s breathing got stuck in his lungs.

You were different. He was gone for a whole year, and you were completely different, at least in his eyes. He could see your face, your eyes seemed lost, but they still had that same light he fell in love with. Your hair was longer. Physically you were skinnier. That definitely was something that changed the most. And, of course, last but not least, your smile. You always managed to smile, but he saw it wasn’t as sincere as before.

Kyle couldn’t help but notice the person that was on your left side. Kenny. Of course, he was there with you, but that was also different this time. He seemed more alert. As if he was protecting something, in this case, you. His demeanor was scary. Kenny was able to see Kyle was in the classroom before you were able to notice him, so he covered your view so you wouldn’t see him. Kyle’s blood started to boil. Who does he think he is? It took all the strength Kyle had for him to not go up to Kenny and start a fight.

Your first teacher of the day came into the classroom and started to talk about what you were going to be learning during that school year when they noticed Kyle was back.

“Well, look who came back! I don’t think it is necessary to introduce you to your old classmates, am I right, Mr. Broflovski?”

The mention of Kyle’s last name grabbed your attention really fast. You turned your head to where your teacher was looking, and for the first time in what you felt were months, you actually smiled out of happiness. You locked eyes with Kyle, and your heart skipped out of your chest. He was indeed back.

Your Kyle was finally back after a year. At that moment, you couldn’t care less if he just left without anyone noticing. You were so happy he was back in town. You waved at him, and he mouthed a “Hi” to you and gave you the sweetest smile. Kyle was definitely not over you and doesn’t think he will ever be.

“You seem different, sweetheart” You turned around and saw Kyle, who was sitting down on the entrance stairs.

“What do you mean, Kyle?”

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you right now, and I really hope you don’t get offended, but since the first day of school, I realized you were different, as if you were a whole new person… Something happened while I was gone, didn’t it?” you sighed. You tend to forget Kyle was way too observant and way too smart. Of course he was going to notice your change of attitude and your physical change.

“I cannot hide anything from you, Kyle…” You were debating if it was actually a good idea to tell Kyle everything that happened over the year he was gone. In the end, Kyle was one of the people you could truly trust, or at least he used to be. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me everything, Y/n,” you were preparing yourself mentally. You promised yourself you would never let Kyle see you in such a bad physical and mental state, but at this point, you needed help. The only people who know what has affected you in so many ways during the last year were Kenny and Bebe, but you were starting to feel you were such a burden. Maybe Kyle could help better.

“Well, a lot has happened since you were gone for over a year. First of all, it was unfortunate when I didn’t see you on the first day of 7th grade. I felt like a piece of me had been missing for over a year. You know how important you are to me, Kyle. I should’ve taken that as a sign that it would be such a horrible year,” you chuckled.

You tried to smile, but Kyle noticed all the pain you had collected over a year. He grabbed your hand, and you continued. “I really tried to at least give the best and tried to stay positive, but there were these comments going around of how I looked at that if I continued doing whatever I was doing and eating, I was going to end up being as big as a fucking pig. I really tried to not pay attention to those comments, but the fact that even my own family and parents were saying those types of comments really took a toll on me. I’m pretty sure you did notice that change, am I right, Kyle?” Kyle only nodded.

“And, of course, my parents. I mean, you may remember how they were, right? Well, now they are worse. They don’t really see me as their daughter but only as a machine that has to do everything perfectly. They don’t see me as a human being anymore. They also expect me to be perfect at school, but mentally I just can’t….” you didn’t realize when you started to cry. The tears were rolling down your cheeks. “I want them to love me, and I know that if I’m a good student, they will finally be proud of me and tell me they love me, but I just can’t seem to do school right. I’m just useless.”

You cleaned the tears with your sleeve. Kyle was surprised and sad at the same time. He could see that those negative feelings affected you way too much. He felt his heart sink into his chest. He wrapped one arm around you, and you leaned into his shoulder and closed your eyes.

You were exhausted. Your parents and school have been really hard to handle, and at this point, you wanted everything to just stop. Maybe you were going to regret telling all of this to Kyle later today, but as for now, it felt good the way he was holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world that could break at any moment. You were really enjoying the physical contact.

“You are not useless.”

“I’m literally so fucking useless right now, Kyle. I’m unable to do anything right, and over the last year, my grades have just gotten worse and worse. I’m not the smart girl you used to know.”

“I don’t think grades get to tell how good or bad a person is. What you do is what matters.”

“Fuck, that’s even worse.” you tried to joke and laugh, but Kyle realized you were really thinking that poorly of yourself.

“I’m serious, Y/n” Kyle wanted to keep talking and show you how much of a fantastic person you were, but he realized he wouldn’t be able to change your point of view of yourself anytime soon. Whatever your parents have told you really affected the way you perceived yourself. He kissed you on your forehead. “I can tell people have hurt you so much over the past year, but now I’m here, and I’m not letting anyone hurt you anymore, sweetheart. Got it?”

“You sure you ok, sweetheart?” Kyle wanted to know what happened between you and Kenny. Everyone in the class could see that you and Kenny weren’t even acknowledging each other.

For the past 7 almost 8 years, you and Kenny were inseparable, so this was just new territory for Kyle and a shocker for everyone else. The two of you were supposed to be reading and making a summary of whatever new book your English teacher assigned this month.

You only nodded, not even looking up from your book, and Kyle understood you didn’t want to talk about it. A part of him (the most selfish part) was pleased Kenny wasn’t next to you 24/7, but of course, the other part hated to see you so distraught.

“He’s an asshole if he can’t see what an amazing person he had by his side.”

“He’s not an asshole...” you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself. Even if you weren’t on speaking terms with Kenny, you still believed he was the best thing you could’ve had. “You think that?”That I'm an amazing person?” you finally looked at him, trying to change the subject.

“Of course, I think that.” Kyle tugged one strand of hair that was falling into your ear, and you smiled at him. Kyle always managed to make you feel better. You leaned into his shoulder.

“I just, I really don’t know what the hell happened. I mean, yeah, we fought a few weeks ago, but we made up, or well, at least I think we did. I don’t understand why he just started to ignore me and treat me like I’m the worst person he’s ever met.”

Kyle glanced at Kenny, who was not far from the two of you, and he could see the anger and betrayal he was feeling. He couldn’t believe Kenny was playing the victim in all of this, and he couldn’t quite understand why you didn’t do anything to at least make Kenny understand it wasn’t your fault, either.

“You know what’s the worse part? I don’t even know what I did. It looks like I did something to him and Bebe, but I’ve tried to remember everything that happened for those weeks, and I’m unable to piece any of it.” Kyle didn’t stop looking at Kenny during all that moment.

Definitely, Kenny was ready to pick up a fight with him, but something stopped him. No, someone got his attention, Red. Kyle found it suspicious since he never really listened to anyone but you, but it appears Red became closer to Kenny after his fight with you.

Kyle decided it was best to just get all his attention to you instead of Kenny. Kyle grabbed your chin so you could see him directly in the eyes.

“I don’t really know what happened. At this point, I’m pretty sure I know as much as you, but I promise you that I’m going to find out what happened. Just trust me, ok?” Kyle gave you a sweet kiss on your cheek, and you blushed. You were finally smiling for the first time during the day.

“It’s not that necessary, Kyle. I’m just happy you believe me. I’m serious. Thank you” You returned your sight to your book. Kyle smiled at your comment.

He loved making you feel better, he loved your smile, and he loved the way you always managed to make him feel. Loved. Kyle also returned his sight to his book. When he least expected it, he felt your hand grabbing his. You smiled when you felt him squeeze your hand. You really loved everything Kyle was doing for you, and of course, you really loved Kyle.

“You really aren’t going to go to the last day of school? You’ve been absent for over a week now. Also is the graduation ceremony. The last day we will see each other” You and Kyle were lying down on the floor of your bedroom; the bed was way too small for the two of you to fit in it. Your parents, thankfully, were out working until 8 pm, so for the last week, Kyle has been visiting you during the evenings.

“Yeah, it’s not worth it. I don’t have anything to celebrate about,” you sighed. For the past months, Kyle has been the only one you could trust in. And the only one that seems to enjoy your presence.

“C’mon, it’s gonna be fine. I’m gonna be there. Let’s show everyone they cannot get to us that easily. If you don’t go tomorrow, they will win.” you laughed at his comment.

“You’re making it sound like it’s war, Kyle.”

“Well, yeah. Those fuckers hurt you. Don’t satisfy them, sweetheart.” you moved your whole body to face Kyle.

“I don’t know Kyle. I don’t think I want to see Kenny yet” You closed your eyes, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall at any moment. You felt Kyle’s hand grab your cheek, and his thumb started to caress it.

“Open your eyes, please.” You slowly did what he asked you to do, and you realized he was closer to you than he was before. His face was just mere inches apart from yours.

“Kyle…” you looked at his lips. Your whole body was now aware of his presence. How one of his arms was below your head, giving it some support while his other hand was still caressing your cheek. How, somehow, both of your legs were now intertwined. How his breathing started to pick up the moment you looked at his lips. For just that moment, you forgot everything that has been bothering you for such a long time now. For just that moment, it was only you and him.

“Can I…” Kyle didn’t even need to finish the sentence. The two of you have been waiting for this moment for so long, and it was finally happening. You only nodded, and that’s when you felt Kyle’s lips touch yours. The kiss was short but sweet. And it was everything you ever wished for. The two of you opened your eyes, and you stayed in silence for some minutes, just looking into each other eyes. Kyle’s gaze was filled with adoration and love.

“Please, go tomorrow. I’m never leaving your side. Plus, it may be the last day we are going to see each other since we are going to different high schools. Please, sweetheart.”

“Ok, but you have to promise you aren’t leaving me alone at any moment. Promise?”

“Promise.”

n a v i g a t i o n

[criminalamnesia]

that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.

love your writing btw!

thank you! here’s part two :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you were beginning to hate the infirmary.

the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.

the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.

your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.

you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.

his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.

you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.

fuck him and his apologies.

you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.

it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.

he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.

“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.

“can we talk? please?”

you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.

he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.

“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.

“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.

“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”

silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.

“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.

“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.

simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.

simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.

“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”

he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.

he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.

your voice is full of venom as you speak.

“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”

price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?

to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.

“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.

he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.

but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.

you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.

but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.

price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.

simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.

there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.

he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?

simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.

and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.

he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.

he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?

you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.

so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.

a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.

you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.

the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.

how do you let something like this go?

you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.

once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.

so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.

you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.

you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.

time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.

now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.

you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.

“come in!” price called from inside.

you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.

your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.

and then you noticed simon.

he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.

the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.

you quickly turned your attention back to price.

“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.

“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.

the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.

“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.

“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”

the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.

“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.

he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.

“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”

you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.

“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”

you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?

you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.

“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”

with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.

author’s note:

apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[v1x3n]

RIPPED APART .ᐟ

♡ ⋮ SYNOPSIS

tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out. moodboard

♡ ⋮ PAIRING

john price x falsely accused reader x 141.

♡ ⋮ TAGS

falsely accused reader au , angst , torture , betrayal , ongoing.

PART ONE. TORTURE // angst

PART TWO. TIME TRAVEL // angst

PART THREE. SHOWER TIME // angst

'' driven by hate, consumed by fear ,,