#cuck soap | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rowarn · 3 months

Text

NEIGHBORLY.

simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz

tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp

cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie

; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.

"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."

8.5k words

When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose.

It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier.

Then the house next door sold.

“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.

You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”

“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.

His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”

He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”

“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.

“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet.

You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest.

You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex.

“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”

Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch..

His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.

“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.

“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”

“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.

“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”

“You’re the boss,” he sighs.

True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell.

You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open.

Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door.

“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”

The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”

“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”

“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.

“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours.

“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”

“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.

“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”

“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”

“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”

You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder.

Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”

You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”

You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut.

Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”

“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised.

The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers.

“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind.

You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”

“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.

“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”

“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”

“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”

His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.”

“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest.

“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.

You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”

His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”

“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”

“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”

“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight.

You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away.

“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”

“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest.

“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”

“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.

You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”

He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”

You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”

He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”

“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”

He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”

You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”

A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.

He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed.

“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”

“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.

“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”

Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”

“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”

You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you.

Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest.

The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait

“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it.

He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up.

“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause.

He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head.

“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers.

Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth.

He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat.

You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.

“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.

“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”

“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”

He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin.

“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you.

His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.

“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.

“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”

“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.

“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”

He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm.

When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve.

“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”

Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”

He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”

“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out.

“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”

You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”

He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.

You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”

He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.

One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer.

On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.

“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.

“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.

“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.

“I get by,” you laugh.

“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”

You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question.

“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you.

You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”

“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door.

“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”

“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”

“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”

“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs.

Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”

Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”

You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”

He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”

“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”

He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”

The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door.

“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”

“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”

Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”

Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”

“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”

Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”

“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”

“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”

Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”

“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.

Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”

“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”

Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”

Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.

The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence.

When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back.

“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.

“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”

“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.

“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room.

You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day.

Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down.

You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.

Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man.

Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.

You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”

“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.

“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”

He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance.

“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”

You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him.

“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready.

Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.

“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them.

Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers.

He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you.

You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction.

“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.

“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”

You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”

He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.

“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.

“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to.

Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed.

“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit.

The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch.

“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”

Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below.

He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking.

The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself.

Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit.

“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it.

He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”

He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks.

He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started.

“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.

You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”

He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door.

You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom.

“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear.

You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next.

“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”

“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face.

Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.

“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”

“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple.

He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”

You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned.

Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this.

“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”

“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”

He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness.

A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin.

His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper.

When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down.

He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue.

When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him.

He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest.

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.

“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants.

“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”

You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes.

Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth.

With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer.

When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings.

“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”

You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.

You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face.

“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.

You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”

“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”

“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.

“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.

“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”

You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for.

Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.

“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”

Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead.

One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.

Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra.

Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath.

Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore.

“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss.

“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze.

Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you.

After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it.

Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him.

Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties.

“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”

“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties.

“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.

“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you.

Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter.

Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers.

“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”

He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder.

You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble.

“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm.

“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers.

You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe.

Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers.

“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence.

You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.

“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist.

Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze.

You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips.

Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.

“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”

You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you.

His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning.

Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips.

“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”

You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you.

As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”

“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”

Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it.

It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor.

Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds.

“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it.

That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought.

You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.

“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”

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moondirti · 1 month

Text

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

#unedited!#this idea's been over my ass like a symbiote #cackling and rubbing its greedy little hands together #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader x john price #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader #john price x reader #john price x kyle garrick #pricegaz #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #captain join price #john price #x reader #female reader #call of duty

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konigsblog · 3 months

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soap mactavish would eat someone else's cum out of you, sorry not sorry... 🫤 he's into being cucked, he'd watch from afar, tied up with rope by his lieutenant, watching simon riley – his superior – fuck you! all while you're moaning simon's name, telling him how good it feels while johnny burns with jealousy, his eyes glistening and cheeks tearstained as he rocks his hips against nothing, feeling overwhelmed and accidentally cumming in his boxers at the sight in front of him.

afterwards, he will cry into your pussy, crawling towards you and sniffling, eating you out while you degrade him for being so perverse and gross. he's so horny and feels so ashamed and humiliated that this turns him on, almost jealous as he repeats your words in his head. his lick and curl his tongue deep inside your swollen cunt, eating simon's cum out of you before making out with you, his lips swollen and puffy, tasting like simon's semen; bitter. :(

and yes, it's extremely embarrassing for poor johnny when he sees simon during deployment, getting teased for being a cuckold. :(

#soap x reader x ghost #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #soap x you #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap smut #cod soap #orla speaks

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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months

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Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

#yes nick is nick brady from paradise lost #i couldnt help myself #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic

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abcdbleh · 8 days

Text

my brainworms can't be stopped rn I'm so horny

just daydreaming about ghost being the cuck in the relationship 🤭🤭🤭 when soap is railing the shit out of you he's obviously gonna be speechless so ghost is there with his trusted glass of bourbon drinking a sip and spewing the most nastiest filthiest shit ever spoken by a man no need clitoral stimulation his dirty talk sprinkled w praise and degradation is enough to make you and soap cum buckets and he's there w a raging boner and an empty glass

#ghoap smut #ghoap x reader #ghoap fic #simon riley #ghost smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #call of duty #cod smut #soap cod #soap smut #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months

Text

Cod Cucking

Requested: No

Warnings: Cucking, Choking, Recording, Slight breeding kink in the first part but no parts are actually described, oral sex, gagging, strap ons (I don’t think I got everything)

Ghost

You were dying. You were sure of it. Everything was too much for you. Too bright, too loud, too sensitive. And much too full of the cock that was being bullied into you.

“Sweet thing. Too good to me.” Mace grumbles above you, his voice barely reaching your ears, cock drunk and barely able to think. “Gonna fuck you full. Make you walk around with my cum dripping out of you. All you’re good for. Or maybe I’ll just have Simon lick it out of you, yeah?”

You heard Ghost growl at that but it had no real bite, not when he was only half listening to him, too focused on fucking his own hand, eyes locked onto your face, so expressive and dazed as Mace’s skin slaps against yours harshly, loud in his ears. Ruining you.

“Gonna give you a baby. Little piece of me to make sure you and Simon always know you’re mine now. Make him raise my baby, never letting him forget that I fucked you so good that I ruined you for him.” Mace told you before lifting his mask just enough so that he could bite deep into your shoulder, deep enough that skin caved under the pressure and blood flooded his mouth. Sure to leave a nice little scar.

Soap

“That’s it, Love. Taste so good.” Ghost groans against you, hands roughly spreading your cheeks as he gives you another long lick. “Bet Johnny doesn’t make you feel this good. Does he?” He asks, digging his nails into your ass and dragging them down your thighs, scraping open your skin.

You don’t respond, face down in the pillow, drooling over the case. Ghost grunts in annoyance at your lack of answer, flipping you over and slapping your face lightly than gripping your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes for a moment before turning you to the camera.

“Tell him, Love. Tell Johnny that I make you feel better than he ever could.” Ghost tells you, voice practically a growl. “Tell him that you’re mine. That I fuck you perfectly.”

You moan, teary eyes connecting with the flare of the lens, able to see your reflection in the little panel connected to it. “I-I belong to Ghost.” You start slowly, biting into your lip before he lays a harsh smack to your thigh, forcing the rest of the words out of your mouth. “I’m his and he fucks me better then you!”

König

“You’re hurting them.” König whimpered, soft and submissive, face flushed a bright red as he lay underneath you, your hands on his chest for some kind of balance, nails digging into his skin.

“Hmmm? They take you. I doubt I could hurt them if I tried.” Horangi grumbled, hot tongue licking a stripe up your neck, a sheen of wetness left on your skin. “Besides, I thought I told you to just shut your mouth and watch.” He says, brown eyes narrowing at him from over your shoulder.

König pursed his lips, looking between his teammate and your blissed out face. In truth you definitely weren’t in any pain but he was. Your soft belly was rubbing against his cock, teasing him in all the worst ways, leaving him pent up and frustrated, making him want to tear up from the denial. Especially since his hands were tied to the headboard, leaning him unable to reach down and fix his problem himself.

“Sweet *고양이. I know you best, huh? Pathetic Little *왕자 thinks he knows better than me but we both know he doesn’t. That’s why I get to fuck you while he gets nothing.” Horangi pants, his hand on your throat, the other on your hip.

Alejandro

“Look how he’s fighting, Cariño.” Valeria purrs in your ear, her callused hands on your chest, pinching your sore nipples. “He wants to be inside you so badly. Thinks you belong to him. But you don’t, do you? You belong to me now. All mine. Mi Cariño.”

You nodded, so fast and eager that it made her laugh, her breath hot against the skin of your neck. You took pride in the fact that she was pleased with you.

“Goooood. So good.” She says, lifting a hand to turn your chin, making you look at Alejandro. Tied to a chair with your panties stuffed into his mouth to gag him, his pants pulled to his knees so his hard aching cock was on full display, leaking precum at the sight of you being fucked so well on Valeria’s strap-on. “Tell him. Tell him you’re mine.”

“I-I’m Valeria’s.” You moan, squealing loudly when she gives you a particularly hard thrust as a reward. Your eyes rolled back into your head, drooling just a bit as Alejandro glared at Valeria, shouting obscenities through his makeshift gag.

*고양이 = Cat

*왕자 = Prince

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 7 months

Text

You can watch but you can’t touch

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader

WARNINGS: smut || 18+ only MDNI || voyeurism || reader is being cucked?? kind of?

A/N: Take any and all complaints to @miyabilicious who is responsible for this whole thing

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

____

If you were being completely fair, they had told you not to touch yourself. It was a simple instruction to follow, and again, to be fair, they had warned you of the consequences.

But you were…well. Impatient, for one. Insubordinate, maybe? But mostly, you were just curious.

They're beautiful, the two men in front of you.

Beautiful in how their bodies twist and contort in graceful motion around the other. Beautiful in their pleasure, even while they continue to deprive you of yours. And Ghost? God.

Ghost looks almost ethereal to you right now, a face that’s clearly forgotten how to regulate its emotions, and so he wears his anger in his dark eyes and in the pink on the high points of his cheek and his jaw that’s strained and his mouth sealed tightly shut. All the while, he watches your fingers move shamelessly, without abandon against your skin in direct defiance of his instructions.

You can tell that he isn’t used to disobedience. After all, who would dare to defy Ghost?

Except you, that is.

So when he ties your hands behind your back and makes you kneel on the bed beside them, pushing you down so you’re sitting on your haunches, you figure you had it coming. You’re still wet and achy and it almost hurts from how badly you want to come—you were so close when Ghost’s eyes had snapped to yours, attention drawn by your whining and whimpering—but you can’t get yourself off now, can you? You’re completely at his mercy now, just how he prefers.

And if you thought Ghost would reward your good behaviour—you hadn’t struggled or squirmed against him in the slightest, you were trying to be good—you were mistaken. He ties you up (military efficiency in his movements) and uses a finger to tilt your chin up so you’re looking at him. But your attention is briefly diverted as you watch Johnny lying in Ghost’s bed—one arm tucked behind his neck, one hand moving leisurely over his cock, stroking himself like he has no care in the world, smirking at you. Your eyes narrow at him slightly, and Ghost uses the opportunity to jerk your chin back so you’re looking at him again.

“Be good.”

You nod at him, your mind cleared of all thoughts that aren’t the two of them.

“Stay,” Ghost insists, and there’s little else for your brain to do but melt through your ears at his tone.

When he turns back to Johnny, his spine straightens and it makes Johnny’s smirk widen. “You,” Ghost murmurs. “Come ‘ere.”

You watch as Johnny sits up, crawling to the edge of the bed to come to Ghost. They don’t say anything to each other, just…look at each other. It’s weird as fuck, and you’re about to say something, anything, to break the awkward silence before you stop yourself at the last moment. It’s only weird to you, you realise. It’s only awkward, for you. They two seem to be communicating with the way they look at each other, and the more you look at them, the more you find yourself drawn into their strange spell.

“What do you need, Ghost?” Johnny whispers.

You watch in fascination as your usually stoic CO extends his hand, and unusually ginger fingers wrap around Johnny’s chin. He brings his face up to his own and they kiss. It goes on and on, and Ghost’s hands find themselves wandering over as much of Johnny as they can reach. You feel like a voyeur as you watch them kiss. It feels more intense than you’re used to seeing, and you’re not quite sure what you should do with yourself.

You settle for just watching these beautiful men in front of you.

Ghost’s hand moves over Johnny’s skin, over the soft, downy hair on his chest, down his abs, down his stomach. When it reaches his cock, Johnny moans into their kiss, and his hips jerk upwards, leaning into the contact. Ghost doesn’t seem to mind, deepening the kiss, and you can see how out of breath they both seem to get.

When Johnny finally pulls away, it’s only to whine as Ghost’s grip on his cock tightens. He doesn’t stroke him, no, he only grips him, and it’s enough to make Johnny’s entire frame vibrate with unbridled, unchecked need. In a way, you like how you’re not the only one to be denied, though in all fairness, you’re the only one who broke the rules.

It’s agony for you to watch but do absolutely nothing. You try to shift a little, relieve the pressure between your legs by using the heel of your leg, but freeze when Ghost lifts a finger and points it at you in warning without breaking his kiss. Shit.

You stop wriggling. You'll get yours, you tell yourself. Your time will come too.

But then you watch your CO go down on his knees for Johnny, and you watch Johnny's eyes widen and his stare turn glassy, and all thoughts about your pleasure fly straight out the window.

#simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost smut #soap smut #lumi writes

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xxshadowbabexx · 2 months

Note

I NEED READER CHEATING ON SOAP AS REVENGE, I WILL NOT BE A CUCK QUEEN!!!! ALSO FUCK READERS BESTFRIEND WHAT A CUNT

My Heart’s Yours (Behind Closed Doors)

Warnings: infidelity (soap is cheating on reader, so reader cheats on soap with alejandro), smut, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, language, soft sex, sex with feelings, cum eating, brief aftercare, enthusiastic consent

In response to this

Your boyfriend was such a whore. Downright cunty and not the good kind. The kind that made you want to break dishes and burn his clothes.

The kind that made you want to call up his mom and tell her he’s a joke. Maybe you were petty, but you were pretty sure he deserved it.

He didn’t kiss you how Alejandro did. He didn’t hold you like this and whisper meaningful sweet nothings in your ear.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish was a lot of things, but he could never be Alejandro Vargas.

You were on your way to his room now, a late night bootycall after Soap left you disappointed yet again. You’re not even sure why you stuck with Soap. Your heart (and vagina) were all in on Alejandro. Maybe you wanted Soap to realize you were something, and then you could leave him.

You knocked on Alejandro’s door once before ducking in. You found his room dark, with candles lighting up every corner, and were those rose petals on the bed? What a sap you loved it.

Alejandro walked out of the bathroom (he had been shaving himself for you). He walked up to you, placing his hands on your hips, careful not to accidentally touch your ass before you gave explicit permission. What a gentleman.

He leaned forward to kiss your cheek, “how are you, mi amor?” he asked gently, breath ghosting along your face.

You smiled as you leaned into his touch, “‘m alright. Better now,”

“¿Puedo besarte?” he asks and you nod, letting his lips mold into yours. His hand moves to cradle your jaw as he nips your bottom lip and you moan into the kiss.

“Alejo, please,” you whispered into the kiss and he heard you.

“¿Por favor, que?”

“Touch me, Alejandro,” and well, who was he to deny you?

He gently guided you to lie back on his bed, and he covered your neck in kisses, moving down towards your core. He pressed one last kiss to your clothed heat before looking at you from between your thighs.

“May I undress you, amor?” and you nodded.

He moved gently to untie your shoes, setting them on the floor, then he went to undo your trousers. He was careful to kiss each and every inch of skin as it became exposed, cherishing you entirely.

He moved up to take off your shirt before lifting your black sports-bra over your head.

“Eres tan jodidamente bonita, cariño,” he gasps as he kisses your collarbone, hands massaging your breasts between his fingers.

He admires every curve and scarred tissue as he kisses his way down your body, slotting his face between your thighs.

“Me muero de hambre, amor,” he says as he gives kitten licks to your clit, maintaining eye contact with you.

It makes your breath hitch as he moves down to circle your hole with his tongue, spelling his name as you curled your fingers into his hair.

He uses his calloused thumb to circle your clit as he suckled your hole and greedily swallowed your juices. His free hand kneaded the tender flesh of your thighs as you ground yourself into his face.

He pulled back, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before gazing upon your weeping cunt.

He truly didn’t mean to tease, noting how you squirmed under his watchful gaze, but to him nothing was more beautiful than the sight of your cunt glistening with slick and spit. He rubbed his hand through your folds, spreading them to see your hole clenching embarrassingly around nothing.

Much too slowly for your liking, he dragged his pointer finger up before inserting it inside you. His fingers weren’t incredibly thick, but they were dangerously long, something that made them feel all that much better than your own.

You moan out as the pads of his fingers push against that spongy spot inside you. He smiles at the sound, finally returning to licking at your clit.

He sucks, sweeter than saccharine, and you revel in the pleasure. It grows continuously in your belly, slowly but surely. And much quicker than it would if it was Soap touching you like this.

As if he can hear your thoughts, not like you said it out loud, Alejandro pulls back. “Hush love, I don’t want to hear his name come out of your mouth while you’re in my bed,” and with that, he dives back in.

His mouth latches on your clit, lewd noises echoing off of the wall as he sucks in time with the pace he fingers you. You can feel him moaning into your pussy as you grind into his face.

The coil tightens in your belly, burning bright before it snaps. You wail, awestruck and jaw slacked as your orgasm ricochets throughout your body. You can feel yourself spitting at the seams, yet he remains sturdy, licking and kissing while sewing you together again.

You think you might be crying, but you can’t be sure of anything when he’s looking at you like this. Eyes full of pure adoration, affection seeping out of him, and you can see it in the way he licks you clean and massages the underside of your thighs.

“You did so good for me, cariño,” he whispers as he begins kissing you, slowly and sensually.

You can taste yourself on his tongue and feel your slick on his face, a sign of how earnestly he pleased you.

“Need you so bad, Alejo,” you mused, moaning as he groped your chest.

“Aye, amor, you’ll have me soon I promise. Just wanna kiss you right now, okay?” And kiss you he does. Your mind spins, dizzy at the raw emotion he conveys, something no man could ever give you but him.

He angles his mouth into yours, tongues dancing across each other, well aquatinted. You moan into his mouth as he drags your bottom lip through your teeth. He didn’t kiss you like he was starving, or like he needed to. He didn’t kiss you as if you were fragile and made of glass.

He kissed you like he truly saw you. He kissed you as someone he had deep respect for, feelings that were unexplainable, and words would never do. He kissed you like he understood everything Soap was putting you through, like he understood all of the emotional baggage you came with.

He kissed you like he knew all of it, and loved you just the same.

And it made you melt. You felt tears slip down your cheeks, only for him to brush them away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

“It’s okay, cariño, I’ve got you. Want me to touch you again, love? Love you like you should be?”

You whimpered as you nodded yes. God yes. He had a way with words that could make you squirm and cry out in joy, and you soaked up every second of it.

He smiled at your response, gathering your slick to rub against his shaft before spreading your pussy lips with his fingers.

“Ready for me?”

“Please,”

And then he was slowly pushing into you. You could feel every inch of him and the wonderful stretch that burned to bright. His eyes never left yours as he moved into you, caressing your sides with his talented hands all while that dazzling smile stayed perched on his lips.

When he was fully sheathed inside you, you finally felt like you could breathe again. You weren’t sure how you managed to get through the days when he wasn’t deep inside you. The only thing you were sure of was the fact that he felt like home, and he felt it, too.

He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling back, “May I move, mi amor?”

Instead of responding verbally, you thrusted up your hips, grinding the head of his cock into your cervix. He bit his bottom lip, taking the hint and pulling out, only to thrust lavishly back into you. His movements were slow and even, kissing your special spot with each movement.

You were the shore and we was the waves, crashing into you peacefully on a warm summer day.

Each thrust was shallow, and he thrusted in tune with the kisses he speckled along your chest.

Pull out, kiss, push back in.

Pull out, kiss, push back in, over and over again. Each thrust pulled you closer to the edge, pulled you towards him. Towards home.

You raked your hands down his back, careful not to dig your nails into his epithelium tissue. Not that you wouldn’t want to mark him up, show the world your passion, it was just that with the life he lived, with the things he’d seen, you didn’t want to contribute in any way to the pain.

Instead you moved his head, barring his neck to you and sucking deep violet marks into his skin. He looks so pretty decorated with your claim and you clench around him.

“Feeling good, love?” he asks, but there’s no teasing behind it. Only a genuine curiosity- a need to make you fulfilled.

“So, so good baby, fuck. Need more, please?” you whimper out, tears doting your waterline as he picks up his pace, catching your lips with his.

“Anything for you, mi amor,”

You could feel the warmth reverberating and flooding your womb, gushing as your legs squeezed around his hips as you cried out. Your orgasm rushed through you as you sobbed, plummeting off the edge of the cliff and landing in your manmade heaven. Alejandro’s long cock continued teasing your cervix as your tears spilled over and vision blurred.

He continued thrusting into you as his semen flooded your womb, filling you completely. It was warm and overflowing, spurting out of you in thick pools and dripping down the curve of your ass as his cock did its best to plug the remnants in you.

You exhaled, long and shaky as you felt your mind return to your body, cooling down after the brink of pleasure. You opened your eyes blearily and could see Alejandro smiling down at you, as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

You stayed like that for a while, calming down and embracing each other like you were the last things you had, and in a way you were.

No one would wholeheartedly support you like Alejandro would, no one could lift you up while holding you down like him. And he made it known that you offered him the same reprieve from the world.

Eventually you felt Alejandro begin to move, pulling out of you to settle between your thighs yet again. He used his impeccably skillful tongue to begin cleaning you up. His hands massaged your thighs as he ate his cum out of you. You moaned in soft bliss, eyes fluttering shut, smiling at the feeling of the gentle kisses and licks he bestowed upon you.

He wasn’t trying to work you up to another orgasm, and you didn’t want one. Instead you curled your fingers in his short obsidian locks and let go of yourself, content to let him take care of you how you always wanted to be.

When the morning comes, you awoke cuddled up to Alejandro, kissed him good morning, and got ready for drills.

If Soap notices the hickeys on your neck he surely didn’t leave, he doesn’t say anything.

Taglist

@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @reap3erslov3 @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846

#cod soap #soap cod #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #alejandro call of duty #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas

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captainfern · 3 months

Text

✿ captainfern’s drabble/headcanon masterlist ✿

here, you can find all of my drabbles/headcanons i’ve written that i was too lazy to write out into a proper fic lol

please assume that all content below is 18+ unless marked otherwise (sfw)

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Thinking about COD characters being built like this…

captain john price

simon ghost riley

Price

all tied up

bent over the desk

bodyguard price, bodyguard price two, bodyguard price three

breeding

cock worship

cowboy price

cuck!price + his wife and you, more price and his wife

dad/dilf price

dad’s best friend price, dad’s best friend price two

dad bod price praising you

dbf!price

ex-husband

firefighter price

getting ready

“haunted” barracks

high libido

his facial hair

hotel room, hotel room two

lieutenant reader (sfw)

munch

oral m!receiving

pheromone perfume

plus-sized reader

pregnant partner (sfw)

pregnant partner again

price and your toys

price fluff (sfw)

scars (sfw)

soft sex

stress relief

unhinged

wake up sex

werewolf price

younger/lieutenant price, younger/lieutenant price two

Ghost

blindfolded +price

breeding kink

fighting over pussy +price

gym ghost

jealousy +price

let her fuckin’ breathe +price

soft sex with simon

Gaz

bondage

high sex

nsfw headcanons

overstimulate

period sex

polariods +price

sharing is caring +ghost, sharing is caring two

sub gaz

the exception +price +ghost

the exception but fr +price +ghost

wake up sex

Soap

bodyguard soap

boudoir

needy soap

virgin reader

The 141

backshots

crochet blanket (sfw)

sharing you

Graves

overstimulation

Keegan

needy

#captainfern #captain'sdrabbles #call of duty headcanons #call of duty smut #call of duty imagine #call of duty

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allgremlinart · 6 months

Text

you must decide. you must choose the ultimate MILF.

propaganda/MILF context under the cut

Kya I - Very brave. Died in kind of just a brutal and violent and sad way. Invisible presence of the show. Good mom, from what we can tell. Bagged absolute stud of a husband so good for her.

Ursa - What can I say ? Soap Opera Protagonist. Forced into non-consensual marriage. Killed her father in law. Loved both of her children very much but it still wasn't enough to save them. Unfulfilled stage mom. Magic Gay Grandpa.

Hei-Ran - Refers to her daughter by her military rank. Maybe killed her cousin and others in honor duels on purpose but it's kind of wishy washy. Had a thing with past avatar, new avatar ends up dating her daughter, which has got to feel kind of weird.

Lin Beifong - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Not the mommy issues giver but the mommy issues haver. A cop but hey she's really hot. No social life. Miserable.

Liling - Going to give her children incredibly intense mommy issues. Capitalist. Engaged in corporate sabotage to ensure her own dominance in factory town. On like the worst possible version of an HOA. Prejudiced against own daughter.

Buttercup Raiko - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Only mistake was marrying absolute cuck of a president. Barely on screen but when she was she served I can't lie.

Suyin Beifong - One of few characters in-universe with family name privileges. Kind of weird ex-hippy turned liberal mom vibes. Didn't give any of her five children mommy issues but DID give them to the ethno-nationalist with a mecha.

Kya II - Canonically lesbian. Hippie aunt. Underutilized. Shows up to beat ass and make fun of her brothers and then leaves to go smoke weed or something. Daddy issues but like they're pretty manageable, could be way worse.

Senna - Next to her husband looks about one apple tall. Long suffering mother of Avatar. Loves her daughter very much. Not really sure how she survived living with the personalities that are Korra and Tonraq but I think it has to be weed. Cute hair.

Izumi - Maybe has 30 seconds of dialogue but nonetheless present in plenty of f/f slash. The glasses are hot. We don't really know much about her besides the fact that her dad loves her very much.

Pema - Tenzin get OFF of that woman. I know she was only pregnant for like technically one season but it may as well have been the whole show. She needs to try weed and also abandon her family for a month. Low-key devious.

Tagaka - Self-titled Pirate Queen. Waterbender but also uses cool sword she stole off a dead guy just cus. Humiliates old men in front of their adoptive children. Ok so MAYBE she raids coastlines and takes prisoners/slaves from villages she plunders but she's hot when she does it.

#allgremlinpolls #formerly Poppy Beifong was on here but I booted her out for Senna which was really a no brainer so. sorry babe #atla

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rowarn · 9 months

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masterlist.

SIMON RILEY !

♡ fics -

TAKE WHAT YOU NEED (3.5k words) MONSTER (16.5k words) PLEASE LOVE ME (35.8k words) NEIGHBORLY (8.5k words)

♡ drabbles –

simon cucks some poor guy for flirting with u simon and aftercare simon edging himself situationship with simon vs golden retriever könig pussy drunk simon with loose lips devoted service!dom simon and the way he grinds into u simon smoking while u ride him pent up simon condescending!simon worshipping simons balls fucking u while on the phone — PLM!universe angst hybrid au soap asking simon to help fuck u properly thigh riding trying anal for the first time gun play mean!simon cum play punishment (dubcon warning) simon jerking off simon receiving aftercare concerned simon with a size kink giving simon head while he drives creampie with pussydrunk!simon simon training your throat

JOHNNY MACTAVISH !

♡ fics –

ENAMORED (5.7k words)

♡ drabbles –

soaps leaky cock videos angst hybrid au soap asking simon to help him fuck u properly

KONIG !

♡ fics -

EXPERIENCED (9.5k words)

♡ drabbles –

situationship with simon vs golden retriever könig using ur clit as a fidget toy soft!könig characterization könig overstimming himself using könig's cock as a fidget toy pussyjob bc he doesn't wanna prep u eating u out bc u had a bad day

KEEGAN RUSS !

♡ drabbles –

mean!keegan brat taming keegan fucking up into u to relieve stress loud!keegan

SERIES + MULTI !

unnamed hybrid au: one | two | three (complete) ft. simon, soap, + gaz

#masterlist

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ceilidho · 5 months

Note

coworker johnny is great but have you thought about ghost showing up to his house checking up on how his sergeant is taking to civilian life only to find him balls deep in his pretty lil coworker, moaning in unison and delirious in pleasure

truthfully, you can’t remember how you even ended up here, maybe you had one too many drinks with the rest of the staff at the company party, can just barely touch the memory of johnny looping an arm around your back and telling everyone he was taking you home. it hardly matters now. its hard to think straight with johnny rearranging your guts and spilling your brains all over his bedsheets

the both of you are too lost in the sex to even notice ghost is there until he comments “so this is what you’ve been getting up to when you don’t answer my calls huh pup”

the thing is he’s known about you for a while: a few offhand comments from soap about a coworker he’s been chatting up. they’re sort of a work couple, he’d brag, civilian life was far easier a task to accomplish than ghost said itd be

you still have just enough frame of mind to be alarmed at your apparent skull-masked voyeur, but johnny cant seem to care any less even when you tell him, “johnny—ah—th-there’s someone—s-someone—“ “d-don’t care—shit—don’t fucking care—“ man just keeps fucking you, pussydrunk, not minding the audience, even seems like his pace becomes more frantic, the sounds in the bedroom becoming so loud, wet and obscene that it’s embarrassing. you think you’re crying, hiccuping at each rabid tilt of his strong hips, it’s too—too much and he isn’t stopping, chasing to get that nut in you before its too late

ghost manages to rip your assailant off of you right before he can cum inside, pulling your mouth to his half-hard cock, pulled free from his fatigues and guiding your head in sucking him off. youre so out of it and horny from johnny’s rough work on you and ghost’s deep hypnotic voice and his firm hand in your hair that you cant help but obey. ghost ends up cucking johnny just like that, maybe even fucks you properly a few times before letting his pet have a turn. a lesson in humility maybe; don’t ignore your owners calls

once again, i have NOTHING intelligent to add to this, but hooolllyyyyy shiittttt. ghoap x reader just hits different.

there's also something about johnny going mindless during sex and just tuning out the whole world that just kills me. very @ohbo-ohno's dlmliyh coded.

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prowlingz · 9 months

Text

- Sticky Situation -

smut (cuck?? Idk read the summary 😭) 18+

MW2 | Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell.

I’m from Germany and only just learned English, so please don’t be upset at any grammatical errors!

Summary: You are the perfect person for the job: seduce ‘Mark Ruffolo’ better known as ‘Mr. M’. You need to distract him long enough for team 141 to infiltrate the building, take down any guards in the way - and capture Mr. M alive. Thing is, his guards check on him periodically (every 15 or so minutes), and the only way he won’t is if someone is in need of his full attention and he doesn’t want to be bothered. Price had the room rigged with cameras so they can be sure the plan is in action; but a few members get insanely jealous watching another man touch you..

————————————————————————

“This is going to be so fucking ridiculous” you say, your face growing ever redder.

You look up to meet Laswell’s gaze, she looks deeply saddened by this predicament.

“You don’t have to sleep with him, just..” she pauses, unsure of what to say next. “Keep him.. occupied” she finished sternly.

The tension in the room is thick. No one is comfortable sending you into this situation, especially seeing fear in your eyes.

“We are going to send a.. what? 22 year old, new member into some perverts playhouse? What a damn welcome..” Gaz says to Laswell, he furrows his eyebrows.

He’s right. You only joined 141 two months ago after being recommended due to your skills as an agile sniper.

“Look: it wasn’t my decision. Unless any of you boys want to get all dolled up for the pervert?” she says, clearly frustrated as she’s had to say multiple times now that it wasn’t her call, and to not get mad at her over it.

Silence fills the room. Everyone looks uncomfortable, and most of them take pity glances at you. You bite your bottom lip and keep your gaze down.

You know what you have to do.

————————————————————————

The ride there was silent. Plan is, Soap will wear a guard’s outfit and bring you to the front gate as an “escaped whore”, where you’ll be taken up to the man..hopefully.

This plan definitely left a lot of room for improvement, but there was little time, and the mood seemed solemn.

“I..” you begin to speak, not even knowing what to say but knowing you should say something. Before you can get another word out, you find yourself there.

You were wearing a short white ruffled dress, no shoes. This apparently was what Mr. M’s ‘whores’ would wear.

No one said a word as you stepped out, all keeping their heads down. Soap grabbed your wrist tightly to make it seem he was dragging you back like a dog.

“Does this hurt?” he says, looking down at you.

“I don’t mind it” you say in response. “Let’s just get this over with”

You both make your way to the front gate, where two guards point guns at you, and lower once they realize a ‘guard’ is with you.

“Found this whore trying to escape. Thought I’d bring her back for a punishment” he clearly hated every word of the sentence, and his grip on you tightened right before he has to let you go.

You don’t turn back to say goodbye, instead, you obediently get pushed around by one of the guards up to Mr. M.

You track mud throughout the building. You’re totally alone. You have no one to rely on if shit hits the fan other than your own skills. You reassure yourself they wouldn’t have sent you in if they knew the danger was way too risky.. right? You think back to 141’s solemn faces: they looked defeated before we even began.

Lost in thought, but still being dragged by the guard, you get snapped out of your headspace by a knock on the large door in front of you.

“Come in”, you hear a husky voice respond to the knock.

You step into the room.. well.. you’re thrown into it basically, but catch yourself. The guard turns on his heel and leaves. You were dumped like trash.

“What do we have here?”

You turn, and make eye contact with a tall man. You never thought Mr. M would be so young, attractive and..tall. Even though the ceiling was likely 30 feet high, it still feels like he could touch it. He was likely 6’7”, had bright blond hair and cold blue eyes. They reminded you of Soap’s eyes, how you could get lost in them for hours. Mr. M’s hair was so similar to Ghost’s, it almost made you laugh. But instead, you were quickly knocked right back into reality when you remembered your situation.

You knew that 141 was watching from the cameras, which to you were quite easily spotted due to your intensive training and excellent eyesight as a sniper.

“S-sir” you say sheepishly, making eye contact with the man.

He examines you. All of you.

You stand there, not moving a muscle.

Before you can open your mouth for another word, he picks you up like it’s nothing, or.. more like you’re nothing. He treats you like an object at disposal.

He takes you over to his desk and has you straddling him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, until he moves them to your breasts.

“Hmm..such a good girl” he hums. Praise from any man is enough to undue you, but this man is super fucking hot too.

You let out the slightest whimper to his praise, which he caught immediately. You continue staring at the marble floor to your right, and your face grows ever so redder.

“What is your name?” he asks.

You make eye contact with him. His cold gaze is piercing you.

Paranoia fills you. ‘Shit. SHIT. He knows. He knows..’ is all you keep thinking, not even able to understand his question.

“Do you not know English? Wie heißen Sie? (What is your name?)” he gives you a confused look and pouts his lips.

You know German, but never discussed this with 141. You respond to his question either way.

“My name is y/n” you say sheepishly.

He hums in your response.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty little girl like yourself” he chuckles.

You accidentally loosen yourself and drop a little into his groin. He lets out a slight groan at this and takes your hands, placing them on his shoulders for you. He moves his hands down to your waist and pushes you further onto his clothed erection. He groans even louder this time.

“Fuck..” he puts out.

IN THE 141 VAN

“That mother fucker.. I’m going to kill him” Soap says, staring at the glowing monitor of all the different angles Mr. M is touching you.

His hands move off of your hips and slides down to touch your ass.

Jaws lock in the car, gritting of teeth. The only rational one right now is Price.

“When can we get this fucker?” Ghost speaks out, though it wasn’t really a question, more of a statement.

“As soon as he turns off his radio, he will have no communication to anything outside of the room” Price responds, he doesn’t even look at the monitor, only listens.

You were told to ask his name, since not a lot of people know it, especially not girls he kidnapped off the street or bought from sex trafficking. It’d be suspicious not to ask him.

“What’s.. what’s your name?” you ask looking at him.

He hums.

“You can call me Mark for our session, if that’s okay with you, princess?” you haven’t felt this kind of touch in months, even if it is from some pervert.. it feels.. nice?

He plays with your ass before bringing his hands up to your hip, leaning in and leeching on your neck.

“Let me mark what’s mine..” he says, continuing to bite on your neck.

You can’t help but let out a little moan. Your hands grip onto his shoulders and you press yourself further onto him.

“Ah..such a needy little girl, are we? Hmm?” he chimes.

It feels too good to disagree.

Your response is pushing harder onto his twitching erection and rubbing your clit with his clothed tip. You let out a slight moan at the contact.

“I bet you’d feel so fucking good taking all of me..” he can’t help but say.

You are enjoying this, but know the real goal here is the radio. If you’re caught turning it off, then you know the mission is over, and possibly your life too.

Just then, a knock at his door.

He stops kissing onto your neck, and cranes his head towards the door, grabbing his radio.

“What the fuck is it? I’m busy” his radio hisses.

The static noise on the radio is starting to piss him off.

“Don’t fucking knock on my door or bother me for the next hour” he turns the radio to ‘of’.

You get so excited, but try not to show it.

He looks back at you, noticing something is off.

“What’s wrong, hun?”

You look at him.

“I’m just.. nervous.. it’s my first time” you think of on the spot.

His eyes light up. He looks down at your body even more satiable than before. He lifts your dress up, revealing your white panties with a beautiful lace around the hem.

You shift your weight.

Before you know it, he’s lifting you off his chair to take off your panties. He shoves them into his dress pants before admiring you. Your slick drooling all over his clothed erection..

“Fuck.. you’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You watch him move his hands from your thigh, to his left one grabbing your ass and the right one immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

You fall down onto him, you forgot how good it felt to be touched like this.

He groans and you can see his dick twitching through his pants. “You are so fucking wet..” his fingers trace your nerdy hole, spreading it with to fingers.

You moan, and muffle it by leaning into his shoulders and arching your back onto his fingers. You know damn well what you’re doing.

You can’t imagine what your teammates are thinking at the moment.. I mean.. they knew this is what you were getting into, right? Who told them they had to watch?

Before you can even think, he throws you onto the desk in front of him.

You’re shocked, but remember not to let your reflexes hinder this. You still are wearing the dress, which isn’t allowed. He rips it off of you and starts swirling his tongue onto your left nipple.

He presses his erection against your leaking pussy and palms himself. He moves over to the right nipple and you tug on his hair.

Now the thought of your team watching you get ravaged like this was sort of a turn on. You never thought you’d find yourself enjoying something like this so much. You look to your right and make eye contact with one of the cameras. Hoping that they were still watching, you let a smile out as you moaned from his touch.

His stops contact, clearly very out of breath and flustered himself. He looks down at your dripping pussy, now red nipples after his abuse, and the hickeys formed on your neck.

He pulls off his belt, then pulls his pants off. He slides off his briefs and springs out a huge cock. Maybe 2 inches thick and 7 inches tall. His tip pulsates and is leaking pre cum all over.

He uses one hand and grabs your waist.

God.. you were hoping those boys were taking their sweet time. You didn’t want this day to ever end.

With his other hand, he slides his tip along your slit, making sticky noises..

You can’t help but buck your hips up to him, and he obliges in your request. He slowly sinks his tip inside of you. You scream in pain and pleasure from his shear size, and you’re not even 2 inches deep. He is stretching you out so well..

“You like when I stretch you out like this? Your little pussy feels so..” he groans as he pushes himself deeper “…good. So good.. such a good girl, all to me..” he keeps praising. You can’t even think straight as he pushes himself deeper into you.

Without any warning, he slams himself fully into you.

You can feel yourself stretched out and plead “a-ah! Please..ah..fuck..”

He doesn’t respond to your pleas, instead ramming himself deeper into you with every second going by making you reach your end..

You begin whining “please..PlEasE.. I’m going to cum..please” but your begs fall on silent ears.

He continues and before you know it, you reach your climax. Your walls tightly squeezing across him, and you feel him empty his hot liquid into you.

As he pulls out, an audible *POP* is heard. His eyes widen, you both try and catch your breath. You watch the cum seep out of you, when you begin seeing blood.

“I must’ve stretched you a little too good, hmm agent?” It took you a minute to register what he has said, before you look up at him and see a sly smile on his face.

“W-what..?” You respond.. did he know? Your heart, already beating fast begins to beat faster and faster.

“Let’s get you cleaned up!” He looks over at the same camera you were smiling at just minutes ago. “I hope you boys enjoyed the show!”. He picks you up. Your legs weak and drops you into a warm bath. He wraps himself into a towel and drags a chair over by the tub.

“How did..” you begin to speak.

“It was quite obvious. None of my girls are as stunning as you, and..” he grabs your right arm.

“They are branded by numbers. You don’t have one” he states the obvious.

“What about.. the cameras?” You say, dumbfounded and a bit fearful for your life.

He looks at you, still smiling. “Oh I found those weeks ago. Figured something was coming, and knew it immediately when I saw you!”

You just stare up at him. How can this man be so..charming and terrifying at the same time. Like a fallen angel.

Before you can get another word in, he’s leaves out fresh clothes for you and gets himself dressed swiftly.

“They will be here any minute I presume?” he looks down at you.

“You aren’t going to kill me?” You ask. If you were in his shoes, you would’ve kill you..

“No, I don’t do that”

That’s a blatant lie.. you know this man has killed thousands with his business.

“Right..”

You hear the door bust open and hear Ghost screaming at him to come out.

You get up albeit a bit shakily. You innocently put the clothes on that he left and walk out too, not even bothering to put your hands up.

The men swarm him, clearly wishing he’d do something so they could kill this bastard.

“Are you alright?” Ghost asks.

“Never been better” you say, leaning against the wall.

It’ll definitely be a few days before you’ll be able to walk again. And those marks aren’t going away any time soon..

#cod mw2 #mw2 #cuckholding #ao3 #fanfic #x reader #smut #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap x reader

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