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#call of duty thirst
bitten-fruit · 3 months
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you re-enlist
And Captain John Price absolutely doesn't want you to. He begrudgingly takes you to his office to sign the paperwork - and shows you what your decision has brought you.
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18+ MDNI - 5k words
tags: John Price x f!Reader, power play, oral and vaginal sex
a/n: To get some content on here I've pulled this from my longfic Licking Wounds on Ao3. Trimmed/tweaked it a little to make them tumblr friendly :)
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“Just... let me sign what I need to.” You breathed, exasperated.
Captain Price sat behind his desk, leaning back insouciantly in his chair, bouncing his knee in irritation. His cautious and tired eyes flitted between yours, considering his words before he spoke.
“This is your last chance to change your mind.” He grunted.
You sucked your teeth frustration. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“You should.”
“Why? Will my presence really be that fucking draining for you?”
He quickly absorbed your sudden anger, mirroring it as he stood from his chair, leaning against the surface of his desk on white knuckles.
“You know that’s not what this is about.”
His tone was by turn seething and pleading, glowering at you with gruelling severity.
You scoffed. “Oh, so it would be.”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t be childish.”
“Childish?”
Evidently fed up with your petulant bickering, his head dropped from his shoulders as he grunted in frustration. “I just... I can’t understand why you’d come back to this.”
“You can’t?”
“You had the chance to get away from it. You got out.”
“Got out. You think I got out, do you? That once I got shipped back to London I was done with it all?” You groaned, impatient. “Just let me sign the goddamn paper."
There was visible dispute burgeoning behind his lips, but he stayed silent – leaning forward to tug open one of the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a pad of blank paper forms, hesitantly but methodically tearing one sheet free along the perforated line. He flipped it, placing it down on the wooden surface and twisting it so it faced you, pushing it towards the edge in your direction with his fingertips.
He plucked a ballpoint pen from the steel mesh cup on the edge of the desk, before dropping it on top of the paper form with a quiet clack.
Crossing his arms, he stood upright with a huff and watched you scrutinisingly; glare challenging yet reluctant.
You quietly swallowed, stepping abashedly towards the desk and leaning over it, holding the pen between your fingers and pensively clicking the end of it with your thumb.
Jaded eyes scanned each word, the tip of the pen trailing each line as you read. You checked box after box, writing down the answers to probing questions as though you were completing an exam under the shrewdly watchful eye of your professor. Existing health conditions, current medication, family lineage, previous rank, promotable status. It would almost be nostalgic, answering questions such as these again, for the first time since you were promoted to sergeant four years ago – if it didn’t carry such painful weight, and weren’t so rife with sordid history.
The nib of your pen met that dotted line, finally, at the bottom of the form. Your eyes looked at the conditions and implications of your signature, that thick paragraph above the box, though not a single word was absorbed by your busy mind. It didn’t matter – you knew the consequences of that pen meeting the paper. Even if the Captain wished it, signing your life back into the hands of the SAS was not something that could be easily revoked.
He seemed to relish hopefully in your hesitation, his breath slowing as he watched you consider, pen hovering cautiously over the paper.
You briefly glanced up at him, from under your challenging eyebrows, meeting his eye. His stiff gaze wordlessly pleaded with you, his mouth in an austere line.
Steadfast, you ignored his silent dispute.
You signed the dotted line.
There.
Done.
No backing out now.
A soldier again.
You were astonished at the adrenaline a mere signature could pump from your heart, quivering with it, as you dropped the pen to the desk and stood upright.
His steely eyes did not leave you, face replete with a medley of discernible emotions; ire, anxiety, remorse, solemnity. Arms still crossed firmly over his chest, you listened as his heaving lungs drew in a deep, exasperated breath.
He licked his teeth before he spoke.
“That’ll be all then, Sergeant.”
He dismissed you bluntly, coarse voice dripping with derision. A crease formed in your forehead, taken aback by his sudden dismissal, breath hitching at his use of your rank instead of your name; sergeant, a title he hadn’t referred to you by in two years.
It was as though he was satisfied, doing his best to show you what your decision had brought you, to make you regret it. You were his subordinate again. Just his sergeant.
“I knew you’d enjoy it in the end, Captain.” You seethed, tone draped in sardonicism, an immediate retaliation.
His brow furrowed as he looked down his nose at you. “Enjoy what, eh?”
“You finally get to order me around again, don’t you?”
“You-”
“Am I dismissed? Or are you going to command me to drop and give you fifty?” You growled pettishly, scowling up at him. “It must’ve been hard, not being able to command me to do your bidding while I was a civilian. But that didn’t stop you from trying, did it?”
He grunted, an increasingly enraged sigh escaping his chest. “I didn’t want to be giving you orders again.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, I didn’t. Just because you don’t know what to do with yourself when you’re not being commanded to do it, doesn’t mean I’ve been waiting for the chance to.”
A kick to the stomach, you worried you’d lose your balance with the blow.
Grimacing at him, you stepped your weight onto your back foot in reaction to his venomous accusation.
“Fuck you.”
You hissed it through your teeth, unable to conjure up any intelligent rebuttal, only lashing out with the reprisal that your frenetic emotions scrambled together.
He sniffed irately, adjusting his arms over his chest.
“Can’t talk to your captain that way, Sergeant.”
Your jaw hung loose in disbelief, overcome with a cold rage that made your body quake as it flooded your arteries.
“Fuck you,” you repeated wryly, daring. “Are you going to order me not to talk back to you, sir? You prick?”
He glared at you with challenging contempt.
“You want me to give you an order, do you?”
“I want you to get off your fucking high horse.”
“Yeah? Am I too honourable?”
“Honourable? You’re a sanctimonious p–”
He put his hands on his hips, brashly sucking his teeth before he interrupted you.
“Take off your shirt.”
His hoarse command pierced the thick air like a bullet.  
The wind was viciously sucked from your lungs, then, your racing heart jolted under your ribs with such voltage it felt as though you had been shocked by a defibrillator. You could only stare at him, stupid, waiting for him to relent, to take it back, to say that he was kidding.
His expression, now, was unreadable. You weren’t certain whether he was purposefully keeping his countenance devoid of emotion – or, if, you had abruptly lost any and all ability to understand him or his intentions.
He was a stranger, but a familiar one. A captivating one.
Before you could stammer out a semblance of a response, he continued.
“That’s the sort of order you’ve been wanting from me, isn’t it?” He goaded darkly, seemingly smug at his ability to render you flustered and wordless with one short sentence.
Dumbstruck, still, you could only swallow a pointed breath as you desperately tried to read any clear objective in his shrouded blue eyes.
“Go on.”
He’s not kidding.
“You wanted an order, I gave you one.”
Fuck.
You were completely staggered by the whiplash. Your distended heart thumped so vigorously in your chest you thought it might crack a rib.
There was a conviction within you, somewhere, to question him. To question if he was being serious, to ask him if this was some kind of sick joke to make you regret your decision.
And while you believed that was the case, that it was a derisive retribution, a game to get back at you – there was a stronger urge to play along. To meet his challenge, to execute his dare.
Meeting his indignant gaze with yours, you tucked your fingers under the hem that sat between your waist and hips, peeling it up your torso and stretching it over your shoulders, then past your head. Sweeping your loosened hair out of your face, you held the thin black fabric in the other hand before dropping it to the linoleum floor. You shivered a little in the cool air of the room, your stiffening nipples concealed by the cups of your rarely-worn grey marl brassiere – practical and unsexy.
But the look on his face was telling; he hadn’t truly expected you to comply.
That surprise waned quickly. His dark eyes tried their best to hold your stare, but they failed him – raking over your torso, jaw clenching as his gaze stuck brazenly to your exposed cleavage.
Trembling with adrenaline, you waited for him to say something. Anything.
You expected dispute; you anticipated he’d say, I wasn’t serious. And that would be a satisfying reaction – your effort to make him uncomfortable would prove a success, a victory, you’d have the last figurative word.
He wiped down his face with an open hand, rubbing his beard anxiously as he wrestled with what to say, how to react – maybe some attempt to restrain himself. He leaned against the surface of the desk, resting his weight on his knuckles.
Through gritted teeth, he uttered his next command.
“Bra.”
You swallowed timorously.
It was surreal, really, you worried you were hallucinating – you imagined that in reality he was shouting at you to stop, but you were unable to hear him over your carnal psychosis.
But it was too late now, to stop yourself. You were driven to finish what you started. Changing your mind now, pulling your shirt back over your head and running out the door – would leave you questioning whether any of it was real. You wouldn’t survive in that oblivion, between reality and dream, fact and fantasy.
You needed proof.
You reached behind your back, contorting your shoulders to allow your fingers to grip the clasp against your spine. Your breasts pillowed out of the top of the soft cups as you stretched the band to unhook it, before slipping the straps down your shoulders. It slid from your chest, down your arms, gently – it, too, fell to the floor; you dropped it on top of your abandoned t-shirt.
You drew in a quivering breath, the skin of your breasts tingling as the goosebumps elicited by their exposure trickled across their soft flesh.
He sucked in a heavy breath, deep and slow, rugged and rasping. He took a step, and you retracted slightly; but you watched like cautious prey, as he walked around from the far side of his desk, to the front of it. He leaned on the very edge of the surface, not quite sitting on it, as he insouciantly crossed one boot over the other. His lascivious eyes did not leave you, absorbing every feature, every curve, like he was admiring an artwork.
Despite the metre and a bit of distance from him, you felt the dense heat that hung in the air between the two of you, radiating from him like he was a fucking oven.
“Trousers.”
A brief conflict almost escaped you, but he quickly smothered it.
“Off.”
Whatever reluctance that lingered melted away, then, dripping off of you like a layer of sticky ice cream – by virtue of the unwavering sternness of his command. And that, you realised, was where your comfort lay; where there was no ambiguity, no remorse for a poorly made decision, no culpability for your actions. If you were following an order, the onus was on him.
So you followed it.
Your kittenish fingers went to the button of your grey cargo trousers, popping it undone, slyly pulling down the zip of your fly. You flayed back the open waistband, pushing them down your hips, struggling briefly to pull them past your ass; its recent plumpness made your pants a touch too small. The polyester fabric loudly shuffled in the distended silence as the trousers fell down your legs, into a puddle at your feet; you stepped out of them as though out of a pond.
By the time you looked up to meet his gaze once again, though, he had already charged at you; quickly taking the base of your head with large hands and pulling you towards him. He forced his eager lips against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless, such an aggression that your first primal instinct was to resist him with claws against his chest.
But you were quick to surrender to him, relishing in the taste of him, his tongue, his breath hot in your mouth, you sucked it deep into your chest. Your starving hands coiled up and around his neck, scratching at the tense muscles in his heaving back through the fabric of his uniform jersey; hooking into him in some feline effort to make sure he was real, to prevent his escape, to keep him from being stolen away.
His mouth wasn’t on yours for long, though, dragging wetly across your jaw to your neck, the crook of your shoulder; he chewed at your soft, fervid skin, teeth skimming and barely digging into the tendonous flesh. His vicious hands gave you no reprieve, clutching at any part of you that could force you closer, tighter against him – ensnaring the meat of your hips, your waist, kneading at your sensitive breast with the other.
He separated from you only briefly, though his possessive hands didn’t leave you. Crouching slightly, he hooked his arms behind your thighs, under your ass – deftly hoisting you upwards with no visible effort. You clutched the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips to maintain your balance as he lifted you, turning on his heel and carting you towards the desk. He quickly used a free hand to sweep aside the papers, flinging them to the floor in a confetti; he put you down hastily, keeping you close, the cold surface of the varnished wood biting at your bare skin.
He gave you a transitory respite, carefully checking your face before he went any further; likely ensuring you weren’t crying this time, that he hadn’t crossed an unspoken boundary. Whatever look you gave him in return was outside of your control or perception – but it was an invitation, evidently.
He dove down to kiss you again, but fleetingly – his savage lips trailed down from yours, biting their way along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone. You leaned back slightly on the desk to allow his avid venture, his ravenous mouth biting and suckling wherever it landed; drowning momentarily in the softness of your breast, cupping it with his wide hand to push the pillowy flesh against his face.
That wasn’t his final destination, though. His mouth only brushed over your nipple, sloppily kissing down your tensing stomach as he lowered himself to one knee, clutching your waist with both hands on his journey downward to hold you still. You felt your heart in your throat, in utter disbelief; you could only suck down jagged breaths as his lips grazed against your lower belly, just above your hip, teasing the elastic hem of your underwear. He gingerly kissed your mound through the thin cotton, controlling hands holding your hips by the bone.
Too rapacious to taunt you for long, he tugged sharply at the hips of your panties, leaning back so he could pull them down your thighs, over your knees, off your ankles. Your foot rested gently on his collarbone as he paused in apparent admiration, your exposed, spread pussy mere inches from his face; his breath despite its heat was cold against your wet, feverish skin. You felt embarrassed at his close inspection, his unashamed reverence – but his murky gaze broke away from your intimacy, instead meeting your eye. He wore an expression of unassailable pride, though cloaked in an avaricious hunger; he stared at you cruelly from under his brow, daring you to deny him.
Hitching your legs over his arms so that they rested on his shoulders, he clutched the side of your thigh with his mammoth hand while he pushed his lips into the inside of your leg, high enough, close enough, to make you quiver in desperate anticipation.
Piercing eyes still locked on yours, peering up from your eager flesh, his husky voice murmured deeply into your skin.
“Is this what you wanted?”
He jibed, almost a growl, as though teasing you for your recent behaviour – scolding you for acting out instead of asking for it, causing a scene instead of using your words like a grown-up.
Another kiss, higher, closer, teeth grazing the supple meat of your inner thigh, coarse beard prickling against the burning skin of the edge of your cunt.
You couldn’t think of the right answer, if there were such a thing, to his question – your head was by turn empty and running a million miles a minute. Really, you didn’t even know the answer.
Was it what you wanted?  This entire time? Has it been what you wanted since the last time, in his barrack in Urzikstan? Since the gala? Or, even, since you met him?
Your answer left your wet throat before you had the sense to question it, or rationalise it.
“Yes.”
You breathed, a whisper, barely, almost a squeak. You weren’t certain that it was the truth, either – but it was what you wanted now, so it was honest in some sense.
With firm hands he adeptly tugged your hips so you perched precariously on the very edge of the desk, allowing him ease of access to you.
He cruelly denied you still, placing maliciously soft kisses against the slit of your pussy, torturing you with only a light pressure while you willed him to dive deeper. An ardent whimper fled your chest, quiet and pleading.
Whatever carnivore he was doing his level best to restrain escaped its prison at your sheepish sound; his monstrous hands dug deep into the flesh of your hips, maw lunging forward and pointed tongue parting your slick folds like he was searching for water. It dipped into you only briefly, a momentary taste of the dripping syrup he seemed to take pride in inducing from you – before he used it to glide up to your clit where it was nestled. With ravenous lips he suctioned it into his mouth, devouring you; dextrously chafing your sensitive bud with a flat tongue, maintaining a vacuum that made a dangerously loud and needy moan escape your throat.
He only hastened his torment in response, drinking you like he might die of thirst, breathing heavily through his nose so as not to allow you even a second of relief from the unbearable suction. Feverish claws clasped at the top of his head, running through his short hair and scratching at his scalp, holding his head where you wanted it. Your head hung back off your shoulders, briefly staring at the panelled ceiling before your eyes unwittingly fluttered shut, doing your best to swallow the choked cries that threatened to make the whole army base aware of your depravity.
Your constricting legs inadvertently tried to push him away, your body overwhelmed and desperate for a break from his ruthless consumption, almost too oversensitive to be pleasurable – but not quite. He restrained you tightly, though, not allowing you to flee from him for even a second; his firm hands controlled your hips with an alarming strength, head moving with you as though predicting the direction of your attempts at escape, mouth not separating from you once.
One hand retreated from your side, but to quickly prevent your bucking his constraining arm slithered over your lower stomach, clutching the far hip and using his elbow to hold you down to the desk. His free thumb, then, crept to your cunt under his chin. Despite how slick your skin was, drenched in both your clear sap and his saliva; the clenching muscles of your vagina were squeezed so tightly he had to push his thumb into you with effort, almost popping as it broke past your resistant entrance.
That seemed to weaken his resolve, the tightness of your muscles clamping around him rhythmically, in tune with the burgeoning, forcible orgasm that threatened to crash over you like a tidal wave; he released a ragged, resigned exhalation into your skin. You felt yourself beginning to drown in it, that swirling ocean. The floor, the desk, the room sunk in it, slipping away from you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, only him keeping you afloat.
But he stopped, then, thumb begrudgingly slipping out from inside you, suddenly releasing his merciless suction and separating his wet mouth from your yearning pussy. You groaned in dispute, cut short, a sharp rush of air escaping your overwrought lungs.
“Not yet.” He grunted hoarsely, barely audible.
Brows twisted in pleading frustration, you looked down at him, meeting his frightening glare as he pushed himself to stand; beard glistening with the wetness of you, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What?” You whined breathily, panting as you watched him tower upright, looming over you in licentious authority.
“I’m not having you come yet.”
His injunction was authoritarian, uttered darkly, his rumbling voice so hoarse it sounded animalistic; a growl, a threat. He stood between your legs, still, you watched in quiet, anticipating obedience as his livid hands tore at his belt. Ferociously unbuckling it, as though it would fight against him – he tugged open the button of his trousers, ripping down the fly and unsheathing his rigid cock from his straining boxers; menacing, it dropped heavy out of the elastic waistband, the solid shaft landing against your ravening cunt with a hard, wet slap.
You winced slightly at the sore impact, and his humanity seemed to return to him momentarily; softening face inches from yours, his attentive blue eyes scanned your features for reluctance.
“Tell me no.” He urged throatily, “tell me no, and I’ll stop.”
A shaky breath seeped through your lips, your delirious gaze flitting between his eyes, lashes fluttering as you processed his promise.
“I don’t want you to stop, Captain.” You uttered weakly, entreating.
His careful eyes darkened quickly at your bashful plea, watching your lips form the syllables of his rank like you were stroking him with it. His dominant hands returned to your hips, then, clutching at the bone and lifting your pelvis so it was angled right, just where he wanted it.
His clouded glare didn’t leave yours, his fingers dipping into your saturated pussy as though scooping the viscous fluid that dribbled from you; you watched, beguiled, as he rubbed your juices up the thick shaft of his cock, coating the head in it, briefly unable to stop himself from fucking his fist, huffing carnally, while he was lubricated by your watery come.
With a tug of your legs that were coiled around his hips, you grounded him, impatient; his sinister gaze met yours again, watching your wanton expression as he obliged you and dragged the soft head of his cock down your slit, the cruel pressure against your agitated clit making your body twitch. He restrained your spasm with his free hand your waist, keeping your pelvis still, as the tip of his length nestled between your lips, pressing against your clenching entrance.
Gripping himself by the stiff base, he pushed past your tight opening with his full weight; stretching it tautly around the girth of his cock as he stuffed you with it. You let out a pained squeak as it abruptly filled you, ramming against your cervix with a pressure that made you flinch.
The sharp soreness briefly frightened you – you had been deprived of the sensation of that angry thickness inside of you, ever since…
You didn’t let your mind go back there, not for a second; your eyelids shot open, desperate gaze sticking hurriedly to your Captain, his riled and yet gentle expression bringing you back to him, rugged but soft hands holding your hips as he impaled you on the length of him. You clutched the fabric of his jersey tight over his chest, gripping his arms, his shoulders; keeping him real, corporeal, there with you. He let out a strained grunt as he pulled you down onto him, as deep as your insides would allow him to go, to the hilt; he held you there, forcing you to squirm.
Your delicate hands held his warm neck, leaning forward as you pulled his head down to kiss him; mouth open and tongue desperate to taste him again, to feel his hot breath against your face, the soft scratch of his beard on your chin. He returned your kiss, tender, compassionate – a stark juxtaposition to his ruthless incursion; rutting into you powerfully but methodically, slow but hard, deep enough to be painful.
But the hurt was translated by your aroused nerves into a bestial pleasure, using your goading legs to pull him further into you, you felt his cock push against your aching organs. It raked against your sodden walls on its way out, a slight sting as it dragged along your taut opening – before filled you again, abrupt, sharp; it forced a sweet cry from your fevered chest into his mouth. He grinned arrogantly against your lips, a ragged, breathy chuckle taunted you in response.
You separated from him, then, lying back over the surface of the desk; you arched your back, angling your hips so that his length beat your walls more viciously, wrapping your legs around his waist and clutching at the edge of the desk above your head with straining claws. Exposed to him now, on display, his thrusting only increased in vehemence, speed, depth; carnivorous hands digging into the meat of your hips as if you might slip away from him, forcing you down on him with each rut.  
Eager for release, your fingers glided down your stomach, navigating diffidently to your clit; you drew wet circles over it, letting out a soft whine as you pleasured yourself with the rhythm of his accelerating thrusts.
“Shit.”
He groaned huskily at the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock, his face twisted into an exasperated rapture, forcing himself to slow down slightly so as not to push himself over the edge too quickly.        
He stopped you, hastily; a stern hand tightly ensnaring your wrist and tearing your fingers from you. He pulled your arm upward, pinning it firmly to the wooden surface underneath you, holding your hand by your head. He leaned over you, then, making you watch as he held his free hand to his lips, spitting lecherously into his fingertips; they found your clit without needing to look, stroking the oversensitive spot inexorably, the pressure cruel and unrelenting. His head hung from his shoulders, mouth landing against the hot skin of your shoulder, placing gentle kisses along your collarbone as he ruined you.
The union of the two sensations – his cock, hard as stone, fucking into your stomach, and merciless fingertips tormenting your swollen clit; it surged within you, frayed nerves electrocuting you as your inevitable orgasm loomed, its delay rendering it incensed and sorely overpowering.
He must have felt the muscles of your walls clamping down on the length of him as it dawned on you, the change in the music of your sounds; aching whines growing louder, crawling from your labouring throat.
“You gonna come on me, are ya? Beautiful thing?”
He growled into your skin, only increasing the severity of his torture, relentless in his goal to finish you.
Your delirious tongue was unable to form a word in response, only releasing a high-pitched and arduous cry as your unforgiving orgasm collided with you, waves of carnal heat pulsing from the base of you, the muscles of your bullied pussy clenching tightly around his avid cock.
“That’s it.”
He grinned against your neck as he kissed you there, moving with you, allowing no escape.
“Good girl.”
With no apparent intention of slowing down to offer you a reprieve, he instead began speeding up, forcing you to squirm and shriek in dispute at the overstimulation. Your desperate, animal fingers clawed at his wrist, struggling to tear his stiff hand away from your cunt – but he relented, eventually, falling victim to his own pleasure as he shifted his focus to fucking you harder, deeper.
He scooped an arm under your back, lifting you just slightly from the surface of the desk as he hovered over you; the other hand holding the bone of your hip tightly, keeping it steady while he rammed you. You listened in rapture to his grunts of ecstasy, gentle hands clutching the back of his neck, nails grazing his hot skin as you coaxed him to chase his own release.
You pressed soft lips into his bearded cheek, comforting, reassuring him; and that seemed to do the trick, bringing him too close.
“Fuck.”
He groaned hoarsely in begrudging pleasure as he paused, for just a hesitant second, before reluctantly tugging his cock out of you and slamming the wet shaft of it it against your mound.
You panted heavily, holding your forehead against his, relishing in the sensation of his hot come shooting over your stomach, painting you; it dribbled down your sides, down the creases of your hips, dangerously close to your cunt. He winced against you, twitching involuntarily as he pushed the last of his semen out of the head, drooling onto your febrile skin.
You kissed him, again; he tenderly pressed his lips against yours in return as he took the moment to catch his breath. His mouth left yours after a moment and landed in the crook of your neck, his heaving body hung over you, propped up by his elbows on the desk under you. You felt him kiss under your ear, his warm breath and prickling beard sending a shiver down the nape of your neck.
You wanted to say something, anything – but there were no words you could think of to offer him. Gratitude? An apology? Your brain was fried, fucked into pliable mush.
Instead you lay in silence, embracing him for as long as it would last, doing your best not to consider the consequences that lay ahead of you as a result of such an unbelievably foolish lapse in judgement.
He’d been your captain for only a few minutes, and you had fucked him already.
And yet you wished the moment could last infinitely; savouring his gentle lips as they planted drowsy kisses on your neck, tired hands caressing your waist in what felt like wordless praise, a silent gratitude.
Despite the reservations, the guilt, the doubts that stormed around you, deafening; your thoughts encircled only one thing, one source of comfort.
He was your Captain again.
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d0llieh0lic · 11 months
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dilf könig ohmygoddd
watch him defo packing right, but watch him....with a raging breeding kink :(
Always whispers filthy filthy stuff into your ear, always switching between german and english "You will make me a daddy, yes? Is that what you'll like?"
and omg when you finally are pregnant he's just going to be all over you, being so so sweet with you, loving you more gently. His voice is so deep, but so velvet-ty always carrying you around in his arms, happy that you're carrying his child :((
I also feel like he's a huge tits man yk? Always sucking your excess milk, helping with breastfeeding. He loves the taste, so warm and full ❤️
I'M LITERALLY GOING FERAL FOR THIS OMG!!! 💕
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König having your knees pressed up to your chest while pounding into you, telling you how he's going to fill you up and make you all fat and round with his baby growing inside of you, he wants to see your tits getting heavier with milk. When he finishes he goes again, fucking his cum back inside of you to make sure none of it's wasted, telling you how good of a mother you'll be, taking care of his baby.
And when you're pregnant, your tits begin spilling out of your bras, filled with milk, he so desperately wants to help you. His mouth latched on to your nipple, sucking, hearing your pretty moans, he loves it. Telling you how pretty you are with your growing belly, waddling around wearing his shirts. He doesn't let you do anything, he does everything for you. He wants you and the baby to be safe, always.
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moondirti · 1 month
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there’s something so erotic about a man who grabs your jaw when you keep avoiding his gaze so he can force your eyes on his
featuring: SOAP, afab reader, oral, spitting, mild dubcon (i.e. boundary crossing)
soap has always been intense. a bullet shot off in a steel room, bound to ricochet until it makes contact with something that can absorb its impact. you're in the right place at the right time: a bar, the gym he frequents, perhaps even a football game he'd been anticipating for weeks. it doesn't really matter what context he first spots you in – all that energy, that orderless enthusiasm he seems to prescribe to everything, sharpens to focus solely on you. bonnie wee thing that keeps sliding him wily looks, instilling in him a mission he knows he won't back down from.
at first it's how to approach you. easy enough; you like him too, that much he can tell. so when you eventually agree to a farmers market date (where he intends to spoil you rotten with food from every stall), it becomes about opening you up. figuratively at first, you have a hard time keeping up with him without getting overwhelmed. startled at how forthcoming he is, stunned at the manner in which he treats you. like he's known you for years, a childhood best friend you only met last tuesday. he calls right after your first date, asks you to accompany him for coffee before his morning run. shows up at your door unannounced, carrying tools to fix the fan you briefly complained wasn't working. is bold enough to sneak his hand on your thigh while you're watching a movie later that evening, gradually moving higher as your breath begins to falter.
he spares no effort once things get sexual, either. if you expect him to go easy for your first time, you'll come to sorely regret the mistake. quick to slip out of his too-tight shirt, even quicker to spread your legs out on your couch. manages to get your joggers off but opts to merely shift your panties to the side, fingers hooked in the thin material (which he will pocket later). when he envelops your entire cunt with his mouth, his tongue digs into every fold, every hole if it means he can swallow down the smallest part of you.
taste s’good hen, bloody mad wae it
only you’re not looking at him. instead, you’ve thrown your head back, too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to the show he’s putting on for you. why exactly, he's not sure. he’s being good, isn’t he? giving you everything you need? his heart races a mile per minute and something needy, something dark twists within him. he laves his tongue over your hole once more, collecting the juices that pour for him and gathering it behind his teeth alongside a hefty glob of saliva.
when he moves up your body, he tucks your chin in his palm, pulling your head down to face him.
it's too much. too much. he doesn't seem to realise it, but you're breathing is still inconsistent and shallow, and you're about to cry from overstimulation. now he's forcing eye contact, nose kissing yours, and pressing down on either side of your jaw so you're forced to open your mouth wide. you know what's coming, see it from the way his cheeks move. it's all you can do to brace yourself for the inevitable, unable to voice your aversion to the kink. fisting your hands, tensing your throat. but it's as you close your eyes that his self-restraint snaps.
so, he spits. it's thick and messy and heady with the smell of your sex. he doesn't even aim it properly. a significant amount of it lands on your lip, some even on your nose. your tongue gets the brunt of it though, the new weight of fluid causing you to gag. yet his pupils are blown so wide they're barely blue anymore, a cerulean ring around bottomless black, fixated on the sloppy state of your mouth, and it's hard to deny him anything that boils him down to such a state. like a puppy. over-eager and exhilarated when you indulge him so.
you never learn to like it, though it becomes a routine thing.
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frogchiro · 1 year
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men who'd beg to cum inside you, just thrusting away, all tired, worn out and flushed, panting like a beast in heat. they'd moan and groan as if almost in pain from the creeping in overstimulation but they just keep going, using their strong hips to thrust even faster and lifting your hips up up to get just that right angle to feel themselves slide even deeper. but they don't come, not yet at least, until they hear you say it-that you'll oh so graciously allow them to cum inside, let them flood your poor pussy and when you finally utter those lovely words you'll have them positively roaring in pleasure as they finally let themselves go and cum so deliciously deep inside♡
könig, soap, alejandro, rudy, philip graves, diluc, itto, childe, kazuha, tighnari
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princeguri66 · 3 months
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So obsessed with Price's hairy torso right now that it's down right unwell.
John Price x Male! Reader
18+ Minors DNI!
Maybe on an off day or lazy day where he gets to rest and you've been waiting for a day like this to come for a while because now he's sitting on his bed dressed only in his boxers and you've been standing there awkwardly waiting for him to get comfortable settling down on his bed, and when he finally gets comfortable he waves you over, a silent permission for you to just lay yourself on him like some kind of human blanket, burying into his hairy chest feeling the hairs tickle your face as you settle on him. You can even feel John resting a book on top of you for him to read.
Colder days where you just want to snuggle into his soft hairs and his plush body but you both know that you both won't survive cuddling with only the blanket covering you due to the temperature and it results in you climbing inside the shirt he's wearing, forcibly stretching them out just so you could rest the top of your head against his ribs.
It causes Price to buy more shirts to replace the ones you've stretched out, and to buy a loser fitting sweater so you could fit your whole upper body between the sweater's fabric and his body. If he bought an even more oversized one you could probably pop your head out of the collar. (Omg imagine humping, frotting against him like that weird position but the closeness intrigues me)
Imagine rubbing your dick between his pecs, coating the hair with your cum as you cum on his chest. He didn't even have to squeeze his tits together, you were just happy to rub against those coarse hairs of his. Licking up your own cum from his chest hair and wherever it splattered on to, taking your sweet time with replacing the cum with your own spit, making Price whine as you suckle on his pretty nipples as if you were starving.
Then finally coming up to kiss Price, him tasting you on your tongue, how filthy it is making him moan into the kiss as his dick twitches once more.
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gothghostiie · 3 months
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ok but gentle boot riding with ghost??
humping against his boot while clinging to his thick thighs, head on his lap while you're panting and he caresses your hair so so gently, praising you quietly and spurring you on, you're doing so well for him:(
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monsterinmyboxers · 10 months
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Manhandling then fucking soap then he notices a belly bulge as he's getting fucked
hm
soap would fight back, laughing, you eventually winning-- folding and pinning his arms against the arch in his back. you both were panting, one more than the other, and neither of you could tell if it was because of the wrestling or the arousal building in your stomachs.
either way, you'd take advantage of this position, him doing the same. you grind on his ass, soap pushing back onto your dick.
and a few minutes later, he was on his back, stripped naked, legs on your shoulders and your cock nestled deep inside him. you didn't wait to thrust yourself into him, him throwing his head back in response.
he rambles about how deep you are, words slurred, his eyes trailing down until he saw why you felt so damn deep. there was a bulge in his muscled abdomen, reappearing every time you pushed in. his hands frantically reached out to push against your hips, telling you to slow down. and once you did, he whines. his hand touches the bump, making you finally notice.
you'd tease him for the rest of the week.
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soapels · 1 year
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stress relief
konig x female reader
tw: nsfw, dry-humping, konig is soft and down bad for reader
notes: guys i luvvvv konig he is too adorbs to not make a sappy lil smutty drabble of! pls enjoy this quick one n tell me who u wanna see next, drop suggestions + thirsts and whatnot ♡
all hearts & reblogs are so appreciated!
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The two of you shouldn’t be up.
Let alone up to no good— it’s late, most of your comrades are sleeping just in the next room over, and you’re pretty certain it’s against standard protocol to let your fellow operator pull down your pants.
But he is, and you’re letting him.
Consider it stress relief, is what you tell yourself to ease the guilt and that niggling feeling of dirtiness creeping over your bones as he slots his hips up with yours, setting you down on the top of a table- oddly gentle for a horny man of well over six foot five- and places a smattering of kisses over your neck, cheeks, jaw…
He’s a little awkward, you notice, and that’s fine because you are too— he’s tall anyway, too big for his own good and most practical jobs (on the odd occasion or two, you may even catch him mourning the old rejection of his sniper application), so you understand.
You’re too dazed on his sweet touch to pay any of it much mind, though, his lips peppering puppy-dog kisses over every inch of exposed skin as he ruts his hips against yours, cock bulging through the fabric of his boxers, pants half down as he grinds against the wet spot of your panties.
“Perfekt,” he moans softly into the dip beneath your jaw, your nose pointed to the ceiling as your eyes search for purchase there, tummy clutching up with some unbridled pleasure as his big hands hold you close, gloved fingertips- nothing close to painful- digging into the fat of your plushy thighs.
The first whine he drags out of is you is fragile, he treats it like silver, a hand swinging up to brush his knuckles over the slope of your cheek, blue eyes a faded haze of lust and adoration as he momentarily debates freeing the both of you and sticking it in already.
(But he’s big— wouldn’t it hurt you? What if you don’t really want him like he wants you—? Konig can manage like this anyway, because you feel so good, his cock nudging eagerly over your clothed pussy, your aura sucking him in deliciously. And he’s sure he’d embarrass himself too- would cum too fast, ‘cause you’re just so sweet and pretty and he’s wanted this for too long.)
Konig’s patient, though, and you’re something well worth the wait, the gloved pads of his fingers swiping away the hazy tears that gather at the shimmery lines of your eyes. (Gorgeous, he’s sure there’s galaxies hiding there.)
When your hips start moving against his, timid at first- slowly building up to a speed that matches his own careful, needy one- he moans at your ear, teeth nipping at its lobe as he brushes away the hair there.
Delicately- so soft. So good.
You mewl and twitch when his very-evident bulge catches on your puffy clit, your cotton panties soaked with your budding arousal at the front- and he swears he nearly cums on the spot.
“Ja bitte,” he groans, voice teetering on the line of hesitant ferocity, his massive body towering over yours- swallowing you up in his shadow- as the cicadas thrum outside. And Konig lies you on your back, then, dragging you in by those hypnotic hips of yours that always seem to thwart his concentration, folding himself over you as he humps into you like a mutt in heat.
“Cum for me,” he whispers, all feral and sweet, the black curtain of his mask tickling the V of your jaw, “C-Cum for me, please.”
And you do.
All over, soiling the thin fabric of your undies, his pelvis soon jerking in response— stopping dead in its tracks— and then twitching as he nibbles on the soft expanse of your neck, spilling spilling spilling—
“Ah- good,” he whines out, voice blissed-out yet just thick enough to hear.
“Very good—… good girl…”
The my part of the good girl goes unspoken, but Konig really hopes you’ve got no intention of backing out on him now, princess…
(Or the next day. Or the next… Or the next…)
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vilsoo · 1 year
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pretty boy fucktoy⌇könig <3
it’s always been a big, filthy fantasy for könig to be used like an object for your pleasure and ruined by you until he’s a shattering mess. waking up at 3 in the morning, his cock already rock hard and his sensitive tip leaking. and there you were, catching him squirming under the covers it was almost pathetic, yet adorable of him. cooing into his ears and sweetly caressing him, you whisper for him to keep begging and begging for you since he knows that’s what you love to hear from him. just begging, whimpering, breathing heavily, almost crying for you to do whatever you want to him. whether it’d be lifting his mask just to only use his mouth for you to sit on, hearing him praising and worshipping you with his needy voice, sitting on his aching cock for you to get yourself off, or pegging him roughly— he wouldn’t care about what you planned on doing to him, as long as he can please you. and it was a privilege for him to be your personal fuck toy, a human dildo that’s good for nothing but orgasms and dopamine releases. riding on his face until you made a sweet mess all over his mouth and his chin, then jerking him off into your fist as he keeps eating you out, cooing at the way he whines so pathetically from making him cum. then overstimulating him by bouncing on his cock, your hand wrapped around his throat and praising him for being such a good boy.
“you know what pretty boy fucktoys do when they cum? they smile and they take it. now who’s my good pretty boy fucktoy?”
könig couldn’t even form a proper sentence, let alone a coherent thought. his breathing is heavy, his whines became erratic, and he couldn’t stop sobbing. “i— i am… all my— all my cum… all my cum is for— for you, baby…”
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ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr. ib this rlly sexy hot audio 🎧 (nsfw, headphones required)
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boowritess · 2 years
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simon "ghost" riley x reader
semi 18+ under the cut not explicit but proceed with caution
a/n: just y'know been thinking about this man alot so have this, drink some water and have a good day/night ♡
part 1 part 2
picture him coming home from a mission;
it's nearing 1am he assumes you are asleep so he quietly enters the home. expecting to hear silence but only to hear small whimpers and moans coming from the bedroom.
sounds he hasn't heard in days. fuck- weeks.
sounds meant just for him.
before he could think the worse, a hand on his knife holster, seeing nothing but red, he halts.
from the shadows he stands, eyes locked on your figure in the middle of the bed, legs spread, hand between your thighs, eyes clenched close- "simon~" you softly moan.
"you called love?"
there was a gasp, your eyes opening searching the darkness for him.
one step into the dim lighting of the moon, there you drank in the sight of him, his gear was still on, as was his mask the only thing exposed to you was his eyes, the light from the moon making them shine with hunger as they greedily drank in the sight of you bare, just for him.
"simon please, need-" before you could cry out to him about how much you missed him and needed him, he shook his head, rough voice interrupting your plea,
"don't stop sweetheart- show me how much you missed me."
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vivgst · 5 days
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Bodyguard!Valeria
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Okay first of all I kinda hate this, I'm posting it again bc I had posted it privately (bc I'm stupid like that) Uh and it's not proofread so sorry in advance
Valeria was no stranger to hard work, everything she had achieved was because she had broken her back and cried tears of blood but she did not complain.
Right now she was cursing her life and all her ancestors though, she couldn't conceive that you were the most difficult thing of all, you were unbearable, so annoying and stubborn that sometimes she wanted to just vanish into thin air and forget about her damn plan, that's how much of a pain you were for her.
Not only were you putting your life at risk but also hers, you were the wife of the spider's son and one of the reasons why she had been almost forced to watch over you was so that that fucking man wouldn't beat the crap out of you anymore because of his jealousy, however, you weren't making it easy for Valeria.
You were so manipulative, you knew very well how to use your beauty to your advantage and you were so persistent that you managed to get her into your bed and it was so inevitable for her not to give in to your pleas, those caresses that drove her crazy and those kisses that she still couldn't forget.
That night was permanently on her mind, torturing her and reminding her that even though she always had you close, she could never touch you again or her plans would probably be ruined, she had already gained the trust of too many people to make such a carnal mistake as giving in to her impulses.
“Please, it's just a-” You slurred your words out of drunkenness and she rolled her eyes, her hand pressed to your throat, you could see she was upset but you didn't give a damn, like usual.
“Shut your damn mouth, do you want to get killed? Behave". Valeria snapped and she was so sick of you, you could see it, she was tense and her jaw clenched as she looked around to make sure no one had seen you as you rubbed against her and tried to kiss her, luckily the VIP area of ​​the club you two were in was quite secluded and no one was paying attention to you.
She kept her distance for the rest of the night, she stayed alert and watched you to make sure you didn't do something stupid but she didn't let you get too close until you arrived back at the mansion, she helped you go upstairs because you could barely walk properly and when she was going to leave you in the room you pulled her in and closed the door behind her, your husband was not there and you always took advantage of that, or at least that's what you tried to do.
"I have to take a shower". You murmured and kept pulling Valeria by the arm until you got in the bathroom, you weren’t letting her escape from you. “And you have to take care of me, what if I fall and hit my head? It will be your fault.” You grinned cynically at her and she scoffed as she shook her head, the worst part was that you were right and she hated it.
You got in the shower as soon as you undressed, the cold water ran through your whole body and made you shiver.
Her gaze inevitably ran over you from head to toe and she had to swallow hard and remind herself that the woman in front of her was forbidden, having you once had been greedy of her, she couldn't allow herself to have you again even if she wanted to... and oh how much she wanted to.
You, on the other hand, knew very well what you were doing, you slid your hands over your breasts, over your stomach until you reached your belly, you felt the heat between your legs as intense as ever, you had never been in a situation this erotic and you felt breathless, just like Valeria.
The only thing between you was the glass door, she couldn't take her eyes off your body even if she tried. It's not like she wanted to, she felt enchanted as if she was in a spell.
"Don’t do this to me". Valeria spoke almost out of breath, her voice was strained by everything she was feeling and you smiled as you put your hand between your thighs, you leaned against the shower door, the glass fogging up from your gasps and you began to massage your swollen bud that was soaking your fingers, your soft flesh was begging for another touch, it missed her hands. The water that fell on you was cold but not even that helped calm the heat you felt, the burning throughout your body.
Valeria was frozen in place, she couldn't stop looking at you, the way you touched yourself, your face, your whole body, she wanted to get into that shower and taste you until you couldn't stand up anymore, she wanted to turn you into a needy mess and feel your skin and your body against hers, it was a necessity at this point.
She couldn't control herself anymore and since she knew how things would end she preferred to run away, she left the bathroom and went into the room that your impertinent husband had assigned her, if you were sober enough to torture her that way then you were sober enough how to finish taking the damn shower without killing yourself.
She wasn't calming down, she was still panting and saying she was dripping was an understatement, she lay down on the bed and took a couple of deep breaths before cursing under her breath, doing that was giving in to all your fucking teasing but she couldn't help so she unzipped her pants in an attempt to calm the longing she felt for you right now.
And you went into the room, just what Valeria didn’t want... She growled, the tension she was feeling was enough to put her in a bad mood and now you were there to just make her feel even worse, it was a bad night, it was a bad job.
“No, get out.” Valeria spoke and you couldn't help the mischievous grin that adorned your face when you heard her, you knew that voice very well, you nibbled on your lip as you approached her bed, straddling her, your hand wrapping around her neck and the other going down her breasts, all over her torso until you put it inside her pants, you could feel how wet she was just from brushing her underwear with your fingers, her walls clenched around nothing, craving, longing to feel something inside, it was painful.
She was staring at you as she let out heavy pants, her body felt on fire and she knew she could take you off her lap if she really wanted to, you weren’t the strongest woman so she could just push you away, she could.
The question was... did she want to?
You gently caressed her over her underwear and put your hand inside, rubbing her flesh that was unusually soaked and you narrowed your eyes at her as you bit your lip, you were finally touching her again.
You lowered your fingers to her entrance and slowly sank them inside her, her walls clung to you, milking your fingers and your breath hitched in your throat, she was never this wet and the realization made you smirk, this was a first and you promised yourself right there that you would enjoy it.
“Oh… Are you ovulating?” You murmured in a mocking tone but Valeria didn't answer, she just glared at you as she gasped and you curled your fingers, rubbing that spot inside her that made her feel helpless and she whimpered. “That's why you're wet like a bitch in heat, right, honey?” You whispered softly, increasing the speed with which you massaged her g-spot.
“Screw you.” She snapped, feeling breathless, her moans were more audible now and it was killing you, you had never seen her this turned on, it was just making you feel desperate and needy.
You started grinding your hips against her thigh as you massaged her insides and she was so tight you felt like she would rip your fingers off, which meant she was close.
You pushed your thumb against her swollen nub, her thighs started to shake and you brought your lips to hers, you were doing what you wanted with her, but it wasn’t enough.
“I want you to get me out of here”. You spoke hoarsely as you kept working your fingers inside her, the heat of her insides were driving you insane. You loved feeling pleasure, but the most exciting part about having sex with Valeria was pleasuring her, making her weak until she couldn’t stop squirting.
“I will.” She breathed out, her arms clasping around your waist so she could feel you closer as her orgasm was crushing her whole body, you could feel it in your hand, the way she was tightening and tensing up, it was hot. And you moved your fingers harshly, harder just like you knew she liked it.
“I want to be with you, I don’t want to be with him”. You spoke close to her lips and she nibbled on your bottom lip, her body felt like it wasn’t hers anymore, it was yours, yours to control, to posses, she gave you the right.
“We…” Her words were silenced by her own moans, she couldn’t keep quiet like she intended to just a couple minutes ago because the feeling was overwhelming, it wasn’t just her wet cunt that was sensitive, it was her entire self, her nipples were stiff and you couldn’t see it because her bra was hugging her chest, it was uncomfortable, she wanted your soft hand around her breasts, circling her nipples, playing with that delicate skin you loved so much.
The sound of your fingers fucking her was so obscene, and soon enough you could hear how wet she was getting so you knew it was time to took them out.
Your gaze fell over your fingers, glistening with Valeria’s’ juices and you felt thirsty, you put them in your mouth and moaned as you felt her taste spread across your tongue.
The front door creaked and took you both out of the little cloud you were in. You quickly got off Valeria's lap and snuck to your room, just in time for your husband to come in and lie down next to you, thinking you were asleep or maybe not even thinking about you at all.
And you couldn't help but smirk as you imagined how happy you would be when this nightmare was over, just you, Valeria, and the empire you knew she would build.
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moondirti · 1 year
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Just imagining Ghost with an innocent s/o who doesn't realize she's unintentionally teasing him.
Brushing past him and accidentally brushing against his crotch. Wearing just his shirt with underwear at home. Bending over to look for something they dropped.
And one day, Ghost is just so pent up that he rails the shit out of his s/o saying things like: "Teasing me all day. You wanted this didn't you? Wanted me to bend you over and fuck you until you're a quivering, brainless mess."
i'm so sorry this took me so long to get to, nonny! I mixed it up with another message I've been saving for later.
Ghost doesn't have the patience for you.
Perhaps that's a little harsh, but it's true. He's not the man for drawn out affairs, magnetic back and forth's where you lean in only to scamper away before he can wrap a hard around your neck. You don't intend to tease him the amount you do, really; every frustrated huff from him is met with the same, wide eye stare, oblivious to the throbbing cock straining his jeans. But fuck, is it enough make him want to drill you into a mattress and milk you of all your naivety.
You drive him wild, decked in a large shirt that slips over supple thighs. He doesn't think you realise it, but he can see the swell of your cunt when you bend over, hidden behind those cotton panties. They're flimsy; a fact he knows, having ripped a multitude off you. In the end, it's always the sight of your bare bottom and scantily clad top that manages to push him over the edge.
And it always turns out the same. He's heavy enough to fold you in half and keep you that way, resting his weight on the thighs pressed to your chest while he thrusts his cock into you. Simon has you sobbing, wailing your pleas as he stuffs you chock-full of the consequences of your credulity. You little fuckin' minx. This what you want? When you walk around in barely anything? Wanted me to slap that pretty ass and make you cum?
You don't get to. He keeps you hanging from the same thread you wound around him.
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frogchiro · 1 year
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great now i'm horny for ghost and i still have a presentation to finish >:(
size kink, implied big size difference, implied chubby reader, belly bulging, mean mean ghost </3
ever since i found out he's like 6'4 i won't lie when i tell you my size kink has been going haywire ;; combined with those strong veiny arms i'm combusting abfebufierbg
just imagine simon manhandling you while wearing his full combat gear, all the hard belts and vest digging into your soft body while his strong hands grab onto your full hips to turn you over so you're laying on your back bc he wanted to see the tears welling up in your beautiful eyes as he thrusts his massive cock inside you and knocks against your poor cervix
he'd curse and growl lowly when he noticed the tiny bulge moving together with his thrusts making him twitch inside you which in turn made you whine up as storm as you put your shaky hand on you belly to feel his cock moving in and out
just....ghost who is fully aware of your difference in size and strength and he takes full advantage of it <3
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princeguri66 · 4 months
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I had this thought pop in my mind so bare with me for a bit.
John "Soap" Mactavish x Male! Reader
eating something out of his mouth
18+ MINORS DNI
Cw: nsfw but no actual smut, saliva lots of it, eating something from someone's mouth.
So imagine this, one day you're in the mess hall eating away at your lunch with the team, you had a strawberry saved for last when suddenly Soap takes it out of your tray and you notice, "Soap you dick you better-" before you could say anything he puts in his mouth. You can see the fruit bulging his cheek as he smirks at you, with it still being in his cheek he says, "What? You still want it? Come and get it then" and opens his mouth, presenting the strawberry on his tongue.
What he doesn't know is that you don't mind it if it's coming from him, so you gingerly take the fruit with your fingers and eat it. Surprising him and the others who were paying attention. "Thanks, then." You say with your mouth full as you chew, turning your attention away from him and to the rest of the team who are now looking at you with pointed eyes.
Soap never forgets about this btw, right after lunch he went to his room and had to relieve himself, thinking about your fingers slightly touching his tongue and his spit mixing with yours as you chewed. He can't stop thinking about it.
The next few days follows him continuing to do this, no matter what you're eating, it could be rice, a protein bar, fucking soup he'd find a way to steal it just to have your fingers touch his tongue and watch you swallow something coated in his saliva.
Always having this weird sexual tension between you two every time you do this song and dance.
It gets to the point where you yourself can't stand it, and the next time he did this was late at night in the common area sitting on the couch with you watching anything that was on TV. You had an empty pack of small chocolate bites on your lap, and of course at the last piece Soap took it and placed it in his mouth, after moving it around in his mouth to make sure it's fully covered in his saliva he opened his mouth, a usual thing he does with you now.
Instead of your hand reaching for his mouth it cups his cheek, you leaning in faster than he could register, distracted by how softly you cradled his cheek. You place your mouth right over his open one, Soap moaned into your kiss but it's mostly just you and him basically swallowing each other, making out opened mouth, drool dripping to his chin as you toy with the treat on his tongue, tasting how the chocolate has melted in the heat of his mouth. You suck on his tongue taking away the treat, you keep it in your mouth as you bite his bottom lip and disconnect, a trail of spit connecting you both before it falls. You two panting and eyes blown, you two sporting a noticeable bulge in both of your pants
With a triumphant grin you say "Gotcha." and open your mouth to reveal the chocolate and swallow after.
Soap has never been harder and hornier in his entire life.
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what have I done
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horangislittletiger99 · 9 months
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Tw: non consenting pet play,sex as rewards and just masochistic reader
Imagine being kidnapped by makarov and made to be his pet
like you saw something you weren't supposed to and you piqued his interest in some way
that's the only way I see it to be honest
He'll have sex with you as a reward
Probably carve his Initials in your skin with a knife
Maybe he'll have yuri join in too ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
your usually Perceived as bad when he's having a moment and you'll be not allowed to touch yourself or anything
(I pictured him having a shock collar for you on those occasions)
He'll probably make you wear a tight black dress no matter what gender
You'll even wear a collar and be forced to call him daddy or master in Russian
It could just be me desperately wanting to be owned or something
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