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ivymarquis · 2 months

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The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #implied plus size reader #take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty #but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning #also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing

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theprincessofabsolutelynothing · 1 year

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youtube

I saw the opening set and was really afraid The Muppets were gonna do another racism but it turns out it was just a red herring for the real horror of this skit

#the muppets #madeline kahn #orientalism #but also #feet #holy shit the kink shaming was a joke but the tags that pop up for just feet #feetish #thanks guys I hate that word so much #Youtube

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bi-writes · 1 month

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ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)

right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.

ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.

that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.

she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.

you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.

you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.

the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.

he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.

he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.

"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."

ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.

"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."

ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.

"is tha' right, swee'eart?"

you nod.

"been waiting," you say softly.

"for wot?"

you smile.

"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"

ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."

your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.

you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.

he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.

"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."

you almost make him laugh.

he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.

"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.

"no?"

"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."

"ghost."

you giggle, "your real name, baby."

"'s ghost."

"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"

"who said you'll be in m'bed?"

you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.

you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.

"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"

you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.

you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.

"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"

you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.

"my whole life, baby."

#i love unhinged women #ill write them til the day i die #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon thoughts #dark!simon

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prokopetz · 10 months

Text

The next revision of the playtest draft for Eat God is now up. This version includes all of the missing rules from the previous version – advancement, Progress and Calamity Clocks, etc. – as well as numerous expansions and clarifications; the game is now considered feature-complete, though it still needs worked examples, pre-made scenarios, and a whole pile of Big Stupid Tables™.

The most noteworthy addition to this draft, however, is (mostly) complete character creation rules. All but one of the remaining blanks have been filled in, and many Traits have been revised to make them more flexible and add a few interesting new rules toys. You can more easily stat up horrible little gargoyles, there's a little something for the hypno kink crowd, and also you can be a (very small) werewolf now.

(The one remaining blank alluded to above with that "mostly" is the 36th Trait, which I'm leaving off for now because I can't decide exactly what to slot in there and I don't want to spin my wheels on that any longer; for now it just reads "reroll".)

Last but not least, Eat God now has a cover illustration, thanks to the very talented @magpiemalarkey. We decided to be forthright about the game's inspirations; for legal reasons, the depicted characters are not Muppets. (To be clear, only the illustration is their work; the text design for the game's title is a placeholder I threw together myself using a commercial font, so don't blame them for that part.)

As always, questions, criticisms, and bizarre rants are welcome – and if you'd like to give it a spin but don't have a group, character creation is its own little self-contained minigame, and all you need is six-sided dice to give it a try; feel free to post your creations in the notes!

You can find the latest revision at the links above, or below:

https://penguinking.com/eat-god/

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #eat god #game design

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adventuringblind · 4 months

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The Wolf, The Bunny, and the Muppet

Carlando X Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Carlos makes plans, Lando doesn't follow them, and punishment ensues. She's just trying to look cute, is that really so hard?

Warnings: Mildly dark Carlos, Denial, Overstimulation, Bondage, Degradation, Praise, PinV, Marking, Heavy subspace, Lando being a pain, BDSM, unprotected sex (not condoned), crying, anal with mild prep,

Notes: So... this is a thing. I fell in love with this towards the end. Dark Carlos is my new favorite thing. Hope the requester appreciates my effort because this was A LOT. Jk, kinda, but I do hope you like it!!

Side note: feeding my praise kink fuels my motivation to write. I am lacking that currently.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not often Carlos makes a pre-planned effort to put a scene together. He's calculated, sure, but he can also go with whatever the situation calls for.

This weekend is different. He has something he wants to try and has made his partners aware of the plan. It's not often he gets to delve into non-sexual domination. The kind that builds up into something more.

He'd been very clear about the rules after getting them off on Thursday. Hopefully enough to satisfy them (Lando) until Sunday night where he would tear them apart and put them back together.

Lando has always been the trickier of the two. She does whatever Carlos says. Lando can but chooses not to.

Needless to say, that if Lando breaks any of the rule's things will become significantly more difficult for everyone involved. Mostly for himself, but Carlos also doesn't really want to put that much effort into doing something different.

Friday is easy. Lando isn't pent up, both are dressed in outfits he'd picked out, and haven't complained about it. Not that he's expecting it. He's not going to put them in something they aren't comfortable with.

Friday practice goes well. Enough for Carlos to have the energy to tease the pair. He leaves them wanting more, for obvious reasons. There is something so satisfying about having to people who love and trust you, begging for anything you give them. Carlos loves this feeling; addicted to it like a drug.

The climate they are racing in is warm enough that Carlos can comfortably have the female wear a dress that barely brushes the tops of her thighs. It's skimpy, and he loves it. He loves the attention she's getting and how people are gawking at her. There is a primal satisfaction deep down because he knows full well she's his.

On the other hand, he had to wrestle Lando's hoodie away from him. The risk of overheating left Carlos is a predicament. The result being a grumpy Brit who wants to die of a heat stroke but complied regardless.

He manages through qualifying fine. Knowing he's going to find his girl in the garage waiting for him. Carlos gets through media with a PR approved smile. Still eyeing Lando and the fact that he is back in his sweatshirt.

Carlos edges him for hours when they get back to the hotel. His precious girl sits right at his feet, waiting patiently for direction. Eyes glazed over at simply being made to watch and wait.

Lando is sweating horrifically. Carlos left him in the sweatshirt, making him regret his earlier misdemeanors. The Brit is slobbering on the sheets, begging for some reprieve. Carlos helps him take a cold shower when he thinks Lando has learned his lesson.

He makes the podium on Sunday. He's elated, walking on cloud nine. Satisfied with his adrenaline-fueled kisses to his lovers in a back corner before he heads to do media.

It's back in the garage when Charles starts laughing at an Instagram post. It draws Carlos' attention. He looks over to see what's on the screen, only to clench his jaw in utter disbelief.

Lando, is openly flirting with Oscar. His smug look says he knows exactly what he's doing. Of everyone, it had to be Oscar. It could've been Max for all he cared. Oscar just grates on his nerves with the way he looks at Lando.

He ends up having to stay later than expected. Lando had said he was heading back to the hotel to order dinner for them since he was done. Maybe try to make amends for his earlier stunt.

Carlos takes his girl with him. He watches her shudder as he praises her for being all weekend. Not like he expected anything different. Carlos broke her a long time ago. He's still breaking Lando.

He keys the room open, expecting to see food on the table and Lando sitting patiently. What he hears instead is Lando moaning. The sheets shifted around underneath his writhing body.

Carlos just stands and watches for a minute. Lando is clearly aware he's is but making no attempt to stop. The sounds he's letting out are exaggerated and whiny. Terribly desperate for something Carlos won't give him.

"Mmm - Oscah..."

And Carlos snaps. Any semblance of self-restraint disappears. The stoic facade he was trying to keep dissolves into a fiery anger. Red hot and boiling in his stomach.

Carlos storms over to Lando and flips him without any difficulty. He pins him with one hand and undoes his belt with the other. "What a fucking brat. You can't be a slut for one second can you?"

Lando is whining underneath him. It's a pathetic noise, and Carlos soaks up every bit of it. "Desperate little thing." He wraps Lando's wrists in his bet and tightens it. The Brit lay bare and vulnerable at the mercy of Carlos' decisions.

Carlos spares a glance at the female. She has stripped her own clothes and is kneeling by the bed. He wants to drown in the sight and ravish her until neither of them can breathe. "Must you ruin my plans, Landito?"

"Just wanted to feel you."

"Yeah, you're going to feel me for weeks after I'm done with you."

Carlos motions for the girls to come to him on the bed. She crawls to him, big eyes clouded with want. "You're so perfect, amour. I'm going to reward you for being so good this weekend. Lando will watch and take notes."

Lando whines as Carlos rolls him onto his back. Rough and calloused fingers grip at Lando's hips. They tease the sensitive areas where Lando needs him most. Cock achingly hard and dripping.

"Stay put and I might let you cum tonight."

Carlos moves closer to the angelic female, looking at him like he is the only thing in the world. He strips off his own clothes and pulls her body closer to his. The skin on skin alone has her eyes rolling back.

He pushes her head lower. Her mouth opens to receive his cock with no hesitation. She wraps her lips around him with such skill that Carlos can only get lost in it. Hand buried in her hair if only to worship her. There is no need to guide or hold as he bucks his hips up and hits the back of her throat.

It's impossible for him not to take advantage of her mouth. It is harder to stay away from the edge of ecstasy. But he manages, he pulls her off him and slams his lips onto hers.

His fingers slips into her cunt with ease. Wet from the weekend of waiting. The anticipation of feeling him finally comes to fruition.

"Sir, please - I need you." The brg falls from her lips like it's her first language. All she knows is him; drowning in the way his fingers rub against her g-spot. "Need to be filled by you."

Carlos can't deny the girl anything. He burries himself in her. Eye's burning holes into Lando's as he snaps his hips at a relentless pace. "How does it feel knowing this could've been you?"

Lando whines and pouts, hips bucking towards the spainard to find the friction he needs. Carlos grants him nothing but a handprint on his ass. Tears spring into his eyes at the sting. It grants Carlos a sick kind of satisfaction.

His girl pants his name. Her tongue sticks out of her mouth in search of him. The only satisfaction she gains is from being good for Carlos.

He feels her tighten around him, alerting him that she's on the edge. "Wait for me, I'm almost there." He whispers against her skin. She scratches at his back as he picks up the pace. Her own way of claiming him, it sends Carlos' head spinning.

She's begging for it but waiting so patiently. The control he has over her is intoxicating. He could keep her like this forever, but she's been good and deserves a reward.

"Cum for me, you've been so good princessa." She tightens around him, walls refusing to let up. Her body jolts in the pleasurable waves of dopamine and serotonin.

Carlos finishes with a few sloppy thrusts, painting the inside of her white. The only thing left is their heavy breathes as they bask in the high.

Carlos praises her as he pulls out. She whines at the loss of him, so he places a hand on her hip to ensure she knows he's present while in a vulnerable headspace. It's endearing how she needs him.

"See that Lando? Do you think you can be good? Can you listen to my words like the good boy I know you are?"

Lando is sobbing. Putty in the hands of Carlos. Broken and beautiful. Just the way he should be.

Carlos takes pity on him. Places Lando in-between the girls' legs. He waits, unmoving inside of his perfect girl.

He drips lube all over his fingers and takes care in opening up the Brit, but leaves him right enough to ensure a bit if a sting still.

Lando is keening. He's trying so hard not to move; to be good for Carlos.

Carlos takes his time sinking into the Brit. Each movement sends him further into the warmth of his Carlos' perfect girl. Lando is sobbing now, begging for anything Carlos is willing to give.

Carlos finally gives in. He show the two of them to mercy. Teeth clamping onto Lando's neck to mark him and fingers pinching the girls nipples causing her to shreik.

Perfect for him.

His.

All his.

Carlos fucks them into overstimulation. He's relentless and refuses to let the moment go to waste. Not when they are sobbing in pure ecstacy.

They chant his name, and he feeds off it. He could live in this place. Only hearing them worship him for the rest of his life.

Finally, he slows. He pulls out gently and whispers words of encouragement and praise. He kisses up and down their bodies and worships them because they are completely his.

He cleans them up with gentle hands, let's them know how much he loves and adores them.

Carlos cuddles them to sleep. The feeling of their hearts beating on either side of him only sends him further into the chasm of adoration for the two.

Hearts that are beating with his in tadem.

Hearts that beat for him.

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ghouljams · 6 days

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Sin Summer (Gaz) Rating: E (MDNI) Words: 4.8k Tags: Gaz x f!reader, anal, body writing, tickling, pwp, dirty talk, rimming(f!receiving), clit torture(minor), vibrators, overstimulation, free use, dollification(sort of), Gaz is a nasty freak and I love that for him Summary: You're having a lot of fun(and sex) staying with Ghost, but you're still learning your way around the barracks. Good thing Gaz doesn't mind being walked in on. <Part 4 ao3

It’s decided that you’ll stay in Ghost’s room. Less likely anyone will inspect his rather spartan dwelling is what you’re told. Really you think Ghost just wants to keep you to himself. Unfortunately it’s not all sex and blowjobs. The space of time when Ghost and Johnny are off doing whatever soldiers do is sort of boring. You spend two days just sitting in Ghost’s room reading naval fiction(the only thing that man seems to have on his small bookshelf) before Ghost gives you a look and tells you you’re not trapped on base. The man even hands you a card and tells you to have fun.

Which just opens up a whole new world for you. Free room, free sex, and you’re right by a bus station. You spend the rest of the week exploring London and sending postcards to your friends back home. You know where you’re sleeping every night and every morning you wake up to Ghost’s giant frame between your legs. You may as well be in paradise. Except the mattress sucks and you’re having to look up yoga exercises just to get the kinks out of your back.

Ghost shows you where the bathroom is, though he has his own, and gives you the key to his room. “Free reign” you’re told, something about the rest of the team being out and the recruits being home. Doesn’t matter much to you. It’s the military, there’s always people on deployment or off doing something. The specifics are unimportant. You’re here for one thing.

You open the door to Ghost’s room, unlocked, he must be back from training.

“Two words baby:” You call out, bursting into the room with your usual flair, “Crotchless. Panties.” You shake the little pink bag dangling off your fingers. Only it isn’t Ghost you’re talking to.

Your eyes dart around the significantly less spartan room, the football flags, family pictures, record box and definitely not Ghost unpacking a suitcase on the bed. No, this man is smaller, with beautifully warm umber skin and broad shoulders. Actually everything about him seems to radiate warmth, from the deep brown eyes that sweep over you, to the growing smile that lights up his face.

“Christ you’re pretty,” you blink, hold your hand up to shield your eyes from looking at the sunshine on his face. He laughs and it’s movie worthy, are you in a dead wife montage or something?

“You’re the bird Soap was talkin’ about,” Ooh even his voice is like honey, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything sweeter. You’ve heard Ghost call Johnny that once or twice, this must be one of the guys they said was on mission.

“You’re…” You fish for the names Ghost gave you. You weren’t really paying attention when he told you. Not your fault, his dick was in your mouth.

“Kyle,” Kyle introduces himself, “can call me Gaz if you want.”

“Pleasure,” You return his smile. He tips his head, eyes dragging over you slower this time. His gaze feels heavy, appreciative, thoroughly and explicitly interested. When he blinks you find his gaze holding yours and your cheeks heat.

He holds his hand out, and you walk closer to shake it. His grip is firm, his fingers wrapping around yours are tight and unyielding. When you go to drop his hand, he yanks you closer, pulls your arm up, leaning back as you’re forced against his chest. Your heart beats a little faster, your face burns, and your breath catches.

“Now what-” Gaz asks, his mouth dropping to brush against the shell of your ear as he speaks, “-is a pretty doll like you doing with those two muppets?”

You tip your head instinctively for him. The stubble along his jaw, evidence he’s been without a decent shave in weeks, tickles your neck and you can’t help the bubble of giggles that escape you. Gaz breathes you in with a sigh. You feel his lips curve into a smile and he rubs his scratchy cheek against the sensitive skin until you’re laughing and squirming to try and get away from him.

His grip on you is like iron, even when you shriek and giggle, bumping him with your shoulder until you’re breathless and hiccupping. Your stomach hurts from laughter, the hand he isn’t keeping held out of the way pushes against his firm chest. Nothing you do seems to budge Gaz. The same way you can never move Johnny or Ghost. His fingers pinch your side, and you flinch away from him.

You bounce when he tosses you onto his bed, still letting bursts of laughter slip free, your neck tingling with the memory of his touch. Gaz drags his hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble for himself, and reaches down to strip his shirt over his head. Your cheeks hurt with how hard you’ve been smiling, your heart still fluttering giddily, but you feel like your lungs stop breathing as Gaz’s hand wraps around your knee and drags you back to the edge of the bed.

“They been takin’ care of you properly, doll? Givin’ you everything you deserve?” He coos, his hand sliding up your leg. You nod, push yourself up onto your elbows to watch Gaz watching you. He tips his head, brows twitching together like he’s trying to feign concern. His smile feels hungry as his eyes drag over you, “Got no reason to play with me then, right?”

“I mean,” Your eyes dart to his belt, “I’ve got some time.”

“You sure?” He leans to kiss your knee, dragging his lips over the inside edge and up the sensitive skin of your thigh. “Haven’t seen anything as pretty as you in months, might not wanna let you go afterwards.” His tongue darts out, presses against the inside of your thigh and licks a broad stroke that makes you shiver.

It makes you feel like a virgin the way he looks at you, talks to you, touches you, like he could eat you alive. What do they say about pretty faces? Christ you can’t remember when his hands are so eagerly tugging down the zipper on your skirt. His brows draw together as you lift your hips to help with shucking your underwear. Gaz’s hands grab under your thighs as soon as your clothes hit the floor, pushing your legs up towards your chest, forcing your hips up so he can get a good look at you.

His hands are softer when they drag down your thighs, still marked with callouses, but you’d bet he’s better about wearing gloves. You grab your knees to try and hold yourself in position for him. If you’d thought he was going to inspect your cunt you’re surprised to feel his hands grip your ass, and spread you apart. Gaz tips his head, kneading the soft flesh as he breathes out a groan.

“Look’it that,” He coos, and you feel his thumb brush over your asshole, “knew they wouldn’t touch it.”

Your cheeks blaze with heat. Christ, you’re a slut but this man is doing something to you. It’s not like you’ve never had anyone play around back there, but the slow appreciative way he just touches you, runs his thumb over the tight hole so you can feel the drag of his skin, makes you shiver. The way Gaz talks to you too, like this was a sure thing, a known thing, like Johnny and Ghost were saving part of you for him. You may as well be a toy they’re passing around, stress relief between deployments. The thought lights a fire in your chest, makes your skin prickle and your pussy wet. You can get into that.

“You ever had anyone back here, doll?” Gaz asks, his eyes raising to yours. His hands don’t move. You give a short nod, trying not to give the impression of innocence that he seems to drape over you.

“Fingers, and mmph-” You sink your teeth into your lip, holding Gaz’s gaze as he bends down, his tongue held out to roll ever so slowly over your ass. He makes sure you’re watching him, makes sure you can see the way his tongue licks you, the tip of it flicking over you in teasing strokes before his eyes drop and he spits on the hole. You swallow, feel his hands slide over the curve of your ass to help you hold your thighs.

You can safely say you haven’t had anyone eat your ass before, and it’s making your chest feel a little fluttery. You’ve had folks dip down there when they were giving you head, but never with this sort of singularly focused effort. Not with the sort of eager breath that Gaz lets out, the drawn brows and open mouth. He licks the flat of his tongue over your ass again and again, the unfamiliar feeling making you squirm until he presses the tip of it against you. Gentle, testing, pressure that makes you whimper. Not because of the way it feels but the implication of it, the taboo.

Just the knowledge that you’re doing something new makes heat wash over you. His tongue burns a stripe over your hole, stopping just short of your cunt. Gaz hums, teases the edge of your pussy with the tip of his tongue before dipping back down. It sends a flash of warmth over you, your clit tingling with need as your cunt throbs. You’re sure you must be soaked, you can feel the wetness starting to drip down over your ass, a hot shameful roll of slick that makes Gaz smile.

“Dirty thing,” He tells you, the honey in his voice seems to coat gravel, a rough need deepening his words. Your cheeks may as well catch fire, your voice lodged in your throat as you try not to pout at his teasing. Your stomach tightens in quick bursts, both of your holes clenching around empty air.

You always figured anal was better left to the people you spend more than one night with, maybe you should rethink that. Although you highly doubt the men that had begged for it would have had half the enjoyment Gaz seems to be getting. He pulls back to spit on your asshole again, watching the roll of spit over you, He drags his hand from your thigh to your pussy and you tense. Gaz lets out a huff of laughter.

“Soap’s spanking you raw, huh?” He guesses far too accurately. You wonder how often they do this, bring girls back to play bunny until they’re off on deployment again. You suppose it must get boring on base with nothing to do but prep for the next mission. “Don’t worry,” He drags the wetness that coats your cunt down to rub over your ass, “I won’t touch her again.”

You don’t recognize the threat, just nod and try to breathe through the shame that tries to burn through your body. God you are not a virgin on their first one night stand, you shouldn’t be so flustered over this. It’s not a big deal, you coach yourself, you’ve wanted to try this, and it’s not like he isn’t going to fuck you afterwards. Foreplay is just… a little awkward sometimes, that’s it.

He tastes you, not properly, but finally. Gaz groans at the way your slick coats his tongue, lets him push it against your ass. The slick lubricates you enough for him to wiggle the muscle into your tight hole. It makes your eyes flutter a little, the feeling so alien, so different from the exploring fingers that usually made their way back there. You try to hold still, try not to feel like you’re doing something wrong letting him wiggle his tongue into your ass. It doesn’t work and you find yourself reaching to grab a fistful of short hair.

“Gaz,” You whine, unsure if you’re asking for more or less. It doesn’t matter. Gaz pulls his mouth from you and leans back, smacking your ass to watch the way you clench at the sharp sting of pain.

“On your knees, puppet,” Gaz orders, “edge of the bed.” You’re quick to turn over, stretching your arms out in front of you as you settle on your knees and arch your back. You hear the cap pop on a bottle of lube --you assume it’s lube-- and then Gaz’s thumb is rubbing slick against your ass. He presses, presses, presses. It feels like it takes ages, but it must only be a few seconds. The feeling makes your breath catch in your throat, makes warmth burn up your spine and down your legs. You feel Gaz’s other hand pet up your back, pulling your hips back for a better angle as he rubs back down.

“There you go,” He tugs at your rim, his fingers squeezing one of your cheeks, “fuck look at that.” He sounds almost breathless, completely enraptured by whatever he’s seeing. You can feel, fuck- you whine against the bed, feel him press his thumb in a little deeper. You’ve had guys do this while they fuck you, but never alone. Somehow it feels more intense like this, more focused. One finger is never enough to make you whine, let alone make your eyes roll back, but when he pulls his thumb out you moan against the bed. You can feel your pussy clench, can feel the heat dripping from you as you whimper into the mattress.

He’s teasing you, you know that, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. Gaz replaces his thumb with a thick finger and your eyes roll back. That sinful pressure and heat are starting to melt your brain a little bit, and when he pumps his finger in and out of your tight hole, mumbles about needing more lube, you can’t help the way you shiver. It courses through you like a twitch of your hips and settles in the way your fingers clench at the sheets. Every little motion feels so much bigger, so much tighter, than when your pussy is played with. You’re eased into the deep end of the pool, but that doesn’t mean you float.

Quite the opposite, you sink hard. You push back into the feeling, push back until you feel Gaz’s knuckles and hear him chuckle, “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” You prickle with heat, goosebumps raising over your skin unbidden. Gaz draws his finger back and you feel the cool dribble of lube over your hole. It slides around his finger, only to be scooped up by a second finger pushing into you.

You whine at the stretch, push your face into the mattress until you can’t breathe, until your stomach is clenched tight and your hips are trying to rock back into the feeling of being stretched. You feel so full, and yet so maddeningly empty. Your pussy is awash with heat, your clit tingles, you want so badly to feel his hands on either of them, to be filled properly in the right hole. Gaz takes his time working you open, admiring the way your ass yields to his fingers’ tugging and scissoring, growing softer under his ministrations.

The slight discomfort of it fades all too quickly into something mind numbing and you find yourself on the edge of orgasm. Your untouched cunt wound too tight to do anything but clench and dribble as your ass is fucked open on deft fingers. Your thighs shake, your muscles wound too tight to do anything but shiver. You just need a little more, just a little something extra. Gaz, mercifully, drags his unoccupied hand over your cunt. You whine when he circles your clit, and scream when he pinches it hard. The pain jolts through you, electric. You’d wanted more and you got it, the stimulation just enough to send you over the edge. You come on nothing, clenching desperately around Gaz’s fingers. He hums, the hint of a smile at the edge of his voice. He pinches you a little harder, twists his fingers and you keen.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of your ass, working you through your orgasm. If you thought Johnny’s spanks were bad they didn’t prepare you for the sharp sustained pain that Gaz put you through. It hurt so good, almost distracting from the building pressure of Gaz’s fingers pumping into your ass. You sob when he releases the bundle of nerves and soothes his thumb over it.

Your cheek is smushed in a puddle of your own drool by the time he adds a third finger.

“How’re you feeling, puppet?” You can hardly think to answer, just let your eyes roll back and slur out a, “good” that makes him chuckle. “Good,” He reaffirms, “have you begging in no time.”

You don’t know how he could expect you to beg in these conditions. Your face is pressed to the mattress and you barely have the space to breathe when you feel like you’re about to break on just his fingers. You mumble something, but it isn’t words, just sounds that dribble out of you with each languid thrust of Gaz’s fingers. You don’t have the energy to do more than take it, which doesn’t seem to be the point. No, you know that’s not the point when you feel Gaz’s fingers leave you.

You feel so terribly empty. Stretched out and ready to go without the actual- You hear a click, and then buzzing. You move to push yourself up onto your hands to see what Gaz is doing and he’s quick to push your shoulders back down. You whine under his heavy hold, then you feel the cool unyielding plastic of an egg vibrator being shoved into your aching cunt. You clench around it, pull it deeper into your pussy as Gaz pushes it inside and nestles it right where he wants it. Another two clicks and the vibrations kick into a higher gear, tingling up your spine and making you moan. When Gaz’s fingers ease back into your ass, once again dripping with lube, you feel the fullness from both sides and press your hips back into the feeling. Gaz’s fingers push down against you, feeling for the vibrator and giving an annoyed hum. You don’t count the number of times he clicks the vibrator’s button, only know that suddenly your vision is going white and you’re shaking apart on the toy.

So much stimulation without a care to your poor cunt, your body is too greedy and you’re paying the price for it. If you were just a little less desperate, a little less edged by the fingers inside of you, maybe your orgasm wouldn’t rip through you like it does. Your back bowing as you bite the bedding and rock with the movement of Gaz’s fingers, clenching and unclenching desperately around the vibrator. You wonder if you could convince him to play with your clit. Maybe he’d be nicer this time if you did beg.

“Please,” You murmur, “please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you want him to do. Fuck you, you suppose. He swats your ass, the sharp smack of it filling the room and making your hips jerk. You fading orgasm makes the pain melt all the quicker into pleasure, tempting you to wiggle your hips and earn a second.

“Please what doll?” He asks, his voice is almost cruelly teasing, “good toys know how to use their words don’t they?”

“Please fuck me,” You may as well scream it for how badly you want him. All this build up, all the prep, you’re aching to feel his cock, aching to be filled. He’s not fucking your cunt, you probably don’t have to worry about being oversensitive. Right?

Gaz’s fingers leave you, and there’s a brief shuffle of fabric, the tear of a condom wrapper, and the familiar press of a cock nudging against your hole. You can feel the slip of lube over the synthetic barrier, the liquid pouring over your hole and his cock. You’re sure he’s upending the bottle, hoping to make this a little easier on the both of you. His fingers squeeze your ass, cool and wet with something, as he holds the heavy length and eases his blunt tip into your stretched hole.

You have never been this loud in your life on just the insertion. Hot pressure drags every thought out of your brain. Your hands claw at the bed spread, Gaz’s fingers tightening as he holds you in place and inches his cock into you. You feel tight, feel heat spreading through your core from that singular point, your pussy drips like a faucet onto the bed. Poor thing still drooling and clenching around the vibrator, even with a cock filling your ass. You’re too worked up to care, too drunk on the feeling of a cock pushing into you to do more than moan. There’s the slightest shift, just a centimeter of pullout as Gaz works you open, and you sob. Your hand shoots back to grab his wrist, something to hold onto when you feel like you’re losing your mind.

You’ve never been like this before, never felt like your legs were going to melt, like you’d be a puddle on the bed if Gaz weren’t holding you up. You have to clench your jaw just to swallow the spit filling your mouth, just to stop the stream of soft whimpering moans that leave you. You release his wrist just to fist the sheets, trying to hold onto some semblance of your sanity before it all leaves you.

Gaz pushes his fingers into your hair and grabs tight at your scalp. It’s a dull sort of tug that pulls you up, forces you back onto his cock. “Stick your tongue out puppet,” Gaz tells you, and you’re happy to oblige. You open your mouth, tongue out and your back arched from his grip. “What a sweet little slag you are,” Gaz hums, “glad I caught you before the captain did.”

Even if you knew what he meant, had the brain power to register the advice, you don’t have the words to agree. Gaz’s hips meet your ass and he stills, circling his hips to let you feel the reach of him. He’s deep, thicker than his fingers, and maddeningly deep. You don’t stop the drool that drips off your tongue and onto your chest. Gaz leans over you and pulls out, again you feel like your brain might be melting out of your ears. Every inch of his cock burns against your rim, fights against the tightness of your body, the unyielding muscle. He pushes back in and you have to adjust to the feeling a second time. It’s almost enough. You’re sure he’s just giving you time to get used to it.

Another slow pull out, and then his hips snap to yours. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of you, a shudder rolling up your spine at the motion. You barely get the time to take a breath before he’s doing it again and again. Tears start to prick in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling of it. The vibrator still buzzing away in your cunt, paired with the sharp pace Gaz sets push you to the edge faster than you thought possible. Your muscles tense, your spine arches, and Gaz murmurs in your ear.

“Such a pretty doll for me, aren’t you?” He coos, “Arching your back so nice, bet you wanna fuck yourself on my cock, don’t you puppet?” You nod against his hold, your hips already starting to move. “Good girl,” Gaz’s smile curves against your ear and for the first time in months you get the strangest feeling. Your heart clenches and you-

You wish it was Ghost saying those words to you.

The thought is quickly wiped away on Gaz’s next thrust, your mind as full of him as your body is and unwilling to compromise that with something as petty as a tiny little ache in your heart. You moan Gaz’s name for him, and enjoy the way he pants in your ear as he drives his hard cock into you. He releases your hair to hold your throat, his fingers gentle in direct contrast to the harsh slap of his hips. You feel the murmured praises more than hear them.

“Pretty thing, gorgeous doll, taking it so well,” Gaz’s breath huffs out, his lips dropping to your shoulder before he’s up again. “Tell me how much you love it,” He orders.

“Love it,” you slur, moving to grab his wrist again, you press it tighter against your throat, missing the thick unyielding grip Ghost always seems to have, “feels so good.”

“Can’t believe no one’s fucked this tight arse before, Soap said you were a proper slag.” You don’t have an answer for that, only push yourself back on his cock like a proper slut should. It makes him groan, the sound musical next to your ear. He holds his hips still and you do it again, pushing yourself down his length before pulling back. Gaz lets you drop back onto the bed, his fingers greedily spreading your ass apart to watch your hole swallow him with each stroke. “There you go,” He hums, “proper slag was right, takin’ every inch.”

You nod against the bed, fingers clenched tight in the sheets to help you rock back. It’s too much, and your hips stutter, earning a smack before you pick up your pace again. It’s not your fault though. He hits something inside of you, brushes against the vibrator, and you find your hips trying to run away from the feeling. Heat and pleasure dance behind your eyes when you squeeze them shut, your body isn’t used to this sort of treatment. Gaz takes over when your hips start to wiggle away from him, his hands clamping onto your hips and pulling you back until you’re sobbing.

Gaz’s fingers find your clit again, rubbing light circles between mean pinches. Everything feels wet, your cunt throbbing with heat and need that’s barely supplemented by the way he pinches you. You don’t care about coming a third time, it’s too much, and not enough at the same time. You feel insatiable even as your orgasm starts to tighten in your stomach. The tension in your body draws up and up, snakes its way up your spine to grip the base of your skull. You turn your head to push your forehead against the spit soaked sheets, just trying to ride out the hungry waves of pleasure.

“Wanna make you come,” You choke out, and Gaz let’s out a breath.

“You want me to come?” He questions, sounding almost confused before his smile eats through the fog, “Am I bein’ too mean to you puppet? Don’t mean to break my toys,” He sighs, leaning against your back as he picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a wet smack, “but it is more fun when I do.”

His teeth dig into your neck and you feel his pinching turn into a hard, fast, rub. You clit finally being given the kindness you were craving and sending you screaming over the edge. Your voice is choked off by the way Gaz weighs you down, the way he drives his thick cock into you like he really is aiming to break you. There are tears flowing down your cheeks when you feel his hips still and head him growl out a groan.

Gaz rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath panting against your sweat soaked shirt. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before pulling out. You whimper at the burn, your muscles still wound tight and needy. Your arms shake when you push yourself up. You don’t think you’ve felt so worn out in ages. Gaz presses you back down, kinder this time, and you feel a wet wipe moving over your abused hole. You take the invitation to stay mostly horizontal, gathering your thoughts back from wherever he’d fucked them out of you. Something felt tipped presses to your low back, makes a few quick strokes, and then Gaz is offering a hand to help you up.

Another clean cloth wipes over your cheeks cleaning up tear stains as Gaz murmurs how good you were for him. He helps you to get your skirt back on, and signs his name in sharpie on your underwear. “A souvenir,” He winks, “wouldn’t want to forget your first time.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna happen,” You tell him, still feeling a little out of it.

“You’re with Ghost right?” You hum, and give a sluggish nod of your head. Gaz laughs, lacing your fingers together and leading you to the door, “Alright, come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Kay,” You agree, letting your mind wander as he pulls you down the hallway towards you familiar, if a little spartan, room.

(Divider by @cafekitsune)

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