IF YOU ARE FEMALE ALIGNED (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY) PLEASE DO NOT FETISIHIZE MY CONTENT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR DO NOT INTERACT (LIKE AND/OR REBLOG CONTENT HERE). FAILURE TO FOLLOW THESE RULES WILL RESULT IN A BLOCK.
No thoughts just mer!reader who was born in captivity and doesn't really understand how to mate...
It's common knowledge that captive mers, especially ones kept in amusement parks, can experience deteriorated instincts. They lack social skills, hunting abilities, and most importantly reproductive success.
Meaning, when you're transferred into a mer sanctuary, it's expected for you to have trouble bonding. They place you with a formerly wild mer, id-tagged "ghost", as he's very forward. The hope, of course, that you'll be pupped come winter.
You clearly want ghost, you just...don't know what to do, it seems.
"What...surely not." Gaz, your main caretaker, whispers under his breath. Inside the tank, you chase ghost around, webbed hands grabbing at his face only for him to huff and turn away. At first it looks like some strange dominance display, but the longer he looks the more gaz realizes you're trying to kiss ghost.
Of course you learned your mating behaviors from humans. You probably saw enough PDA for it to imprint on you.
A quick consult with his supervisors, and gaz has you laid out in the shallow waters of the observation shelf. You blink up at him all docile, having grown up in similar positions during your husbandry work. You don't thrashi or growl like other mers, comfortable with you snout nudging Gaz's knee, licking at the wetsuit material.
"Okay, runt, let's help you out, yeah?" Gaz hums, signaling ghost over to slide onto the ledge like he would for an exam. "Ghost! Up here!"
It's easy getting you and ghost into the correct position, though it would be more natural for you both underwater. You chirp curiously up at ghost, completely oblivious with no instincts to guide you on how to feel about a mer lying on top and pinning your tail down.
"Okay, ghost, I'm sure you know what to do. Just let me–" gloved hands slip into ghosts slit, pulling his cocks out instead of waiting the extra time for them to emerge. Ghost grumbles a bit, knocking his head against gazs side before focusing back on you as gaz lines him up.
"Here we go." He smiles approvingly at the whine you let out on the first thrust. A bit shocked, a bit blissed out already. "Bet that feels real nice, eh?"
You squirm and chirp more, body wriggling under ghost. Clearly you want to participate, but every attempt to reach for ghosts face earns a corrective nip. Gaz, who had been too focused on ghosts cock rutting into you, didn't have time to react when you reached for him.
"What–! Hey! Mhhp–" a long, slippery tongue forces it's way inside of his mouth, thick and warm. To another mer, if kisses were at all normal, it would feel astonishingly tender. For gaz it feels like being face-fucked.
It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but he can't stop it, not when you decide to go deeper and he really has to focus on breathing through his nose.
Above the both of you, ghost rumbles approvingly. bracketing one arm around you and the other around gaz, he keeps what he now recognizes as two mates close together.
When ghost finally cums, gaz is mortified that the second cock is aimed directly at him. Milt splashing across his wetsuit.
He...really hopes no one saw that. He also may need a really cold shower before he does something he shouldn't.
Summary: When an old friend comes knocking, (Y/N) and William are forced to confront the crumbling foundation of their relationship.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Typical Triple Frontier warnings, brief military industry discussion, angst/arguing
Not a request. Just purely self indulgent angst LMAO
~~~
The crowd roared their excitement and anticipation for the boxing match, clapping their hands and stomping their feet along to the rumbling, energetic words of the announcer. The noise filled the gym to the brim, making it difficult to hear anything other than shouting, shrieks, and whistling.
(Y/N) sat at the front in the reserved row, his hands beginning to ache from all the clapping. He glanced left and right for any sign of Benny, Frankie, or his fiancé, but they'd disappeared into the crowd moments prior.
William claimed he'd wanted to see Benny before the fight, but Benny had popped by to say hello before Frankie swept him away.
He stood up, dipping into the aisle and approaching the propped open doors leading out into the hallway. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he smiled at the lock screen photo of William that greeted him when he turned his phone on and typed in the pass code, searching for William's contact as he approached the men's locker room.
Inside the men's locker room, a familiar voice spoke. "Every guy in that gym would jump at this."
(Y/N) knew that voice well: Santiago Garcia, an old pal of William's back when they'd been part of the Delta-Force. Santiago only ever seemed to come around to air out his woes and failures.
"Jump at what?" (Y/N) asked when he rounded the corner, his mouth slowly forming a frown. Frankie, Santiago, Benny, and William. Only Tom was left, and it was rare for them to reunite so abruptly. "What are we talking about?"
"(Y/N)," Santiago greeted, his polite smile semi-forced. "I see you're still nosy. It's good seeing you, man."
"Wish I could say the same, Santiago."
Frankie covered his snicker up with a cough, and Benny ducked his head to hide his smile.
"Alright," William rose from one of the benches with a quiet grunt, his grin amused. (Y/N) crossed his arms over his chest, one brow arching at William, but he leaned into his side regardless. "Put your claws away, fellas. We're all friends here, yeah?"
Santiago sighed through his nose. "Sure."
"And is anyone going to tell me what we're jumping at, or is that for close friends only?" (Y/N) tilted his head at his future husband, humming quietly when William pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
"Nothing serious yet, baby," William told him, dragging his knuckles over (Y/N)'s cheek. "I'll tell you later, okay? Right now, we should be focusing on Benny. It's his big night, guys."
Deflection. (Y/N) pursed his lips, his eyes jumping between the other men gathered around.
William always clammed up when the boys reunited, retreated into a soldier recounting his tales, dismissing his questions because he wouldn't understand.
(Y/N) tried not to hold it against Santiago. He failed anyway.
On the walk back to the gym, they passed by the last guy who'd gone against Benny's opponent. Blood covered the entirety of the side of his head, from his temple down to his shoulder. (Y/N) blinked at the sight of him and turned to look at William, lifting his brows at him in a silent question.
Is Benny going to be okay?
William gave him a tight-lipped smile. Hopefully.
(Y/N) held his eyes for a moment longer. What's going on?
William shook his head and curled his arm around his shoulders, dipping his head to speak. "Santiago wants us to help him out on a recon mission of sorts. We're still figuring out the details, baby, but don't worry about it. I'll let you know everything once Tom gives us his opinion."
You're fucking joking.
(Y/N)'s knee bounced rapidly because if he kept his body still, he was certain he'd explode. The street lights illuminated the interior of the truck every so often, and each time his eyes caught his reflection in the side mirror. His brows were drawn tight, his jaw was visibly clenched, his nostrils flared with each breath he took.
"You know I love you, right?"
(Y/N) almost rolled his eyes, relieved when the truck took a turn into their neighborhood. There was nothing he hated more than being angry at William in enclosed spaces, nothing he hated more than just being angry in an enclosed space.
He needed to refocus the hot, irritated energy flowing through his body into something, or else he'd lash out and say something cruel.
He'd met William on a bad day, and sometimes he wondered if that'd been a forewarning about their future. It'd been so simple, their meeting. Others met their partners in bars, clubs, coffee shops, dating apps, or school. Their 'meet cute' had been on a gloomy day, on the side of the road, because his car had broken down.
Full tires, recent oil change, and battery check-up. His car should've been perfectly fine. (Y/N) had nearly lost his mind on the side of the busy highway.
His phone had refused to charge overnight, so he'd missed his alarm clock and went to work late, his apartment's AC abruptly stopped working during the hot Florida summer, and his hours at work had been reduced.
It'd been a miracle he hadn't driven into oncoming traffic on his way home. Then, like the saint he usually was, William Miller pulled over and hopped out of his truck, offering his assistance and pulling some favors to get his car towed and fixed quicker than the mechanic he usually went to did.
He'd done it out of the kindness of his heart, his good deed of the day. Neither of them had expected to bump into each other again at the bar (Y/N) worked at, but then one thing led to another.
"How long have you known?" (Y/N) asked, his voice almost trembling.
"He called about two days ago. Mentioned he'd be coming by."
"And you didn't tell me?"
William tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, his attention trained forward on the road. "I knew you'd get upset." He replied quietly, turning the wheel onto the long driveway of their shared residence.
"So, what, you were going to tell me tonight?" (Y/N) unbuckled his seat belt and tossed the door open, digging one hand into the pocket of his jeans to take his keys out. "Good to know how much you value my opinion after three years."
"(Y/N)-"
The truck door slammed shut, and (Y/N) stormed onto the front path leading to the door, muttering under his breath as he fumbled with his keys and jammed one into the lock.
He twisted it, sparing William a glance (or rather, a glare) over his shoulder and stepping inside. He hung his keys up on the holder and inhaled deeply.
Fuck. Fuck.
Needle-like pins in the back of his eyes that he tried to blink away, his legs leading him to the kitchen sink where there were still some dirty plates in need of washing.
He turned the faucet on and furiously wiped at them with the sponge, swallowing thickly at the sound of the front door locking and heavy footsteps approaching him.
"You know I don't like going to bed with you angry at me, baby." The dining table creaked softly when William leaned on it, his voice raspy from all the cheering he'd done at the gym. "Will you talk to me? What are we thinking?"
"There's obviously no 'we' here, William. You do whatever you want, and then act like I'm being dramatic for getting upset."
(Y/N) set the plate aside roughly enough that he briefly wondered if it'd cracked. He braced his soapy, wet hands on the edge of the sink, watching the water swirl down the drain.
"You're such an asshole."
William frowned. "I wanted to see what the guys thought first-"
"Last I checked, you didn't propose to them," (Y/N) snapped, tilting his head to glare at him.
William had that stupid passive look on his face, the same one he always wore when he thought (Y/N) or Benny were being unnecessarily dramatic. It always grated on (Y/N)'s nerves.
He hated the condescending air military guys had about them, as if they were better than everyone else simply because they were paid to terrorize other countries.
"Last I checked, you don't go to bed with them every night. Last I checked, you're not in counseling with them because of all the fucked up shit you've gone through."
It'd been William's idea to go to couples counseling after a particularly explosive episode in the middle of the grocery store. Everyone knew (Y/N) had his fair share of anger problems, but nobody who looked at William suspected him of having any.
He was the quiet one, the calm one, the diplomat. But William, (Y/N) learned quickly, was a ticking time bomb, and when he exploded, it was disastrous.
They'd been running errands together, a little date of sorts, when William's temper flared with another shopper. He'd asked the guy repeatedly to get out of his way, and then, after some smart little comment from the idiot, William lunged at him. (Y/N)'s brain hadn't even caught up with what'd happened until some woman shrieked for help.
It'd taken him, a security guard, and another bystander to get William to release the guy from a choke hold. Somehow, someway, no charges were pressed, and William proposed counseling that night after half a day of silence. So, they went, and it took them nowhere.
"What's the point of all this if you're going to run off to a foreign country and get yourself shot? Look, I tolerate you going to base to give the newbies motivational speeches. I tolerate you encouraging the young men and women of this country to go off and put their bodies and lives on the line for a government that doesn't care-"
William sighed out a heavy, "Christ."
"But that's only because you're honest about the shit you've been dealing with since you left, okay? You're honest about your temper, about- about the PTSD, about the bad and the ugly. I admire that, Will, I do. What I don't admire? You going to- fucking, what? Cuba?"
"Colombia."
"You going to Colombia to fight Santiago's battles for him, okay? He wants to be over there doing God knows what? That's his fucking problem, not yours or mine."
(Y/N) ripped a paper towel from the roll and rubbed his hands dry, crumbling it up afterward and tossing it in the trash can. He hated the pursed-lipped look William had on his face, the slightly half-lidded eyes and exasperation in the creases across his face. He leaned back against the counter, his jaw ticking.
"You have a life here, Will. All of you have lives. Tom should be focusing on his daughters and recovering from the divorce; Frankie has a newborn who needs his dad; Benny's got his shiny new boxing career. It's not our fault that Santiago doesn't have a life outside his job."
William's lips curled upward, and he pushed himself off the table, approaching him in slow steps. "I know you and Santiago have never seen eye to eye, but ouch. Makes me feel bad for the poor guy."
"This isn't funny."
William nodded, his hands reaching out to grip (Y/N)'s hips, his lips pressing to his temple. "Have I ever told you how attractive you are when you're angry?" He said teasingly, brushing his lips over (Y/N)'s forehead next as he pressed their hips together.
"Sex isn't going to fix this, William." (Y/N) scoffed, turning his head to the side when William attempted to kiss him properly.
"Says who?"
"Says me."
(Y/N) planted his hands on William's chest and pushed him back, but William caught his elbows and brought him in, his muscular arms wrapping around him. (Y/N) melted in them with annoying ease, the air leaving his lungs in a deep exhale and taking his simmering anger along.
"It's a lot of money, baby. A lot of money." William told him quietly, kissing his brow and then the bridge of his nose. "We do this, and we'll have enough cash for you to go and get a fancy degree. You can quit that stupid job. We can afford getting a dog or two. We can move into a nicer house."
(Y/N) nipped at his bottom lip, his head faintly shaking. "And how will you be getting that money, Will?"
"We'll be... catching a bad guy-"
(Y/N)'s squeezed his side, his brows lifting pointedly. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child."
"A cartel boss, alright? We'll be taking out a horrible man bringing death, drugs, and violence to a portion of the country. We'll be doing a good thing, baby."
William rubbed his hand over (Y/N)'s back soothingly, but (Y/N) shook his head harder, nudging William's hands away from his body. He rubbed his fingers over his forehead, his eyes beginning to sting and water.
All he imagined was Benny turning up on his doorstep with a grief-stricken face. All it took was a single bullet, and the man he loved would be gone.
"Baby," William's voice softened, reaching out for him again, but (Y/N) stepped out of reach. His arms slumped at his sides, his shoulders lowering in defeat. "Baby, you have to talk to me-"
"I'm sick of everything we ever discuss being some agree-to-disagree bullshit! I do talk to you, Will. I talk to you all the time! I tell you exactly how I feel, and you either act like I'm speaking in fucking riddles or you say we should agree-to-disagree so you can walk away. I'm sick of it. Truly and fully sick of it."
"Why do you have to bring up all this shit now, (Y/N)? We've been going to counseling for weeks, and you never bring this up. You throw this shit in my face, and then you shrug it off when we're in front of the therapist!" William ran a frustrated hand through his short blond hair, his jaw clenching and brows knitting together. "I'm trying-"
"I've been trying for three years!"
(Y/N)'s voice echoed through the empty shell of a house, the hot tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. William's face fell, his vibrant blues flickering all over (Y/N)'s face. He could tell William desperately wanted to cradle him in his arms and wipe away the tears, but he stayed put.
"I've set aside my ideals, my views for you. I sit and hang with your military friends. I shake hands with people I find revolting. I listen to your speeches and give you feedback even when they make me want to hurl."
(Y/N) took in a deep, deep breath.
"William, you've killed people, and you don't even know if half of them were actually bad, or just in the way of a goal. I think about that all the time."
Sniffling, (Y/N) rubbed at his face, futilely trying to dry away the tears that continued to fall. William's lips rolled into his mouth, his nose crinkling in a wince and his eyes averting.
A low blow, (Y/N) knew that. He knew why William sometimes sat in silence and stared off into space, or why he tried to keep himself busy all the time.
(Y/N) swiped his tongue over his lips, tracing the lines of the kitchen tiles with his eyes. Arguments between them were frequent, most of them stemming from their different opinions, but he'd never felt so... tired.
"I deal with the fact you barely defend me to your friends. Benny calls Tom and Santiago out all the time. He tells them to cut the shit all the time. You only- only roll your eyes and laugh. Tom and Santiago don't take me seriously because you don't take me seriously. They think I'm on some high horse because you think that."
With a trembling breath, (Y/N) brushed past William and headed toward their bedroom. He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it aside in the hamper, his hands shaking as he collected some fresh clothes to slip into for the night.
He stepped into the connected bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping himself of his clothes and getting underneath the warm spray of water.
He cleaned his face with the water, rubbing his cheeks and under his nose again, washing away the evidence of his desperation.
Even after three years together, discomfort and embarrassment still crept up his spine whenever he cried in front of William. He ran his wet hands over his shoulders and chest, his ears picking up the rustle of clothes.
The curtain moved, and he felt a warm body come up behind him, familiar arms wrapping around his hips. William's facial hair prickled his shoulder when he propped his head on it. (Y/N) remained silent, continuing to wash his upper body.
"You know why I fell in love with you? Because I admired everything about you. Your spirit, your stubbornness, your inability to keep your mouth shut-" William cut himself off with a chuckle, and (Y/N)'s lips quirked. "Seriously, (Y/N), you're the most interesting person I know. I love the way your brain works."
"And here I thought you only liked me because I'm a good lay," (Y/N) muttered, shifting around in his arms to face him, the spray of the water trickling down his back.
He ran his fingers over William's jawline, feeling the prickles of his facial hair. It was hard to be angry at a man like William Miller.
"Yeah, that too. It's a very nice bonus."
William laughed heartily, his hand dipping to give him a cheeky squeeze. (Y/N) rolled his eyes.
"But I mean it. I don't think you're on a high horse, (Y/N), I... I spent more than seventeen years serving. It takes time to- to see more than what we were taught, okay? I'm sorry. It's my job to protect you, not Benny's."
(Y/N) kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry I brought up the whole... killing thing, Will. It was shitty of me."
William smiled somberly at him, his chest deflating. "Do... Do you want to try one of those exercises the therapist gave us?"
"Here?"
"Why not?" William's shoulders shook with a small laugh. "How about the, uhm, soft-start formula? Remember that one? You tell me an emotion you feel about something specific and what you need from me."
"Okay.."
(Y/N) felt ridiculous, which was probably why they always failed to complete the exercises.
"Uh... I feel... scared about you leaving for Santiago's.. 'mission' because I don't want you to come back in a coffin. I know that regardless of what I say, you're still going to go, so I need you to tell me everything about the plan. I want to be prepared, and I want a timeline."
William nodded. "I'll talk to Redfly and Santiago, and I'll tell you everything I know. The timeline might be loose since things always change on the go, but I'll have one for you."
"Thank you." (Y/N) wrapped his arms loosely around William's shoulders, running his fingers over the back of his head and toying with his hair. "I appreciate it."
"Good, I'm glad." William tightened his hold around him. His eyes dropped. "Well, I... I get worried whenever we argue because I don't want you to leave me. I need you to tell me we're okay after fights. It's why I hate going to bed without resolving an argument. I worry I'll wake up and you won't be there."
(Y/N) softened, his brows lowering with some guilt before he closed the distance between them. Three years later, and kissing William still gave (Y/N) that electric, firework feeling in his body.
He pressed himself against him, his lips parting for William and arms tightening around him. William licked into his mouth eagerly, groaning quietly.
The storm of emotions that'd formed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach vanished completely, his senses overwhelmed by the feeling of William and the security that he brought with him.
Another reason he loved William: everything about him screamed safety. His smile, his gaze, his arms, his touch.
Breaking the kiss with a little gasp for air, (Y/N) pressed his forehead to William's. "I love you."
in the midst of black people being found hanging in trees in droves, black people being killed disappeared by their white friends and white nationalists stomping through washington...white people are concerned with [checks notes] black people being wary of them and not wanting to be friends anymore
Please I need some weird ghost I got stood up at a date and he is my only comfort
Ghost notices when you’re upset.
He notices because when he comes into your bakery that morning- you barely even play with him. There’s circles under your eyes, puffy- much more huffy when he tries to bother you.
“You look puny today,” Ghost says in the middle of you trying to ring his breakfast up.
You squint, looking up at the huge man with your lip finally curling at him in the way he’s more used to.
“The fuck does that mean? Do you want this shit or not?” You growl, holding up his croissants like ransom. Simon decides to take the bag before you can throw it at him and ruin his sandwich.
“Just saying.” He insists. Simon is sure that you understand him, that he’s trying to ask why you look so downtrodden.
The way you huff and stomp into the back makes him realize you don’t- or at least, you don’t have any intention of telling him.
And it bothered him. It bothered him that you, the little baker next door to his butcher shop, didn’t want to tell him what happened. Simon was stuck, wracking his brain all day while chopping and packaging his wares- what could he do to show you? He supposed you needed a more direct approach, since him trying to be gentle (as he could be) was a wash.
So Simon waited again, waited until you were alone in the shop- far past closing when he came in the back door. You were in the midst of staring at a mixing machine while it ran, almost in a daze- at least before you realized he was there. For once you don’t throw something at him though, instead letting out a loud sigh.
“What, telling me I look like shit isn’t enough for just once?” You snark, and Simon has the gall to wince slightly.
“Never said that.”
“That’s how it sounded, dickhead.” Simon stares, stares intensely and unblinking as you try to keep your face firm.
You tense when he steps forward- making his way over to you in two strides before he’s turning off the mixer stand. You’re on your feet in an instant, about to snap and snarl when he grabs you by the throat. It’s lighter than you anticipate, just enough to make you jerk against his grip.
“Wh- hey! Fuckin- stop that!” You bark, but the butcher seems to have had enough for once. Instead, he pins you to the table by your throat- tugging you between his legs to be trapped there. Your hands viciously clawing have no effect, and for a second you really think he might just kill you-
But he doesn’t. His grip is.. oddly gentle, his legs keeping yours still isn’t tight, it’s in fact loose.
His hand on your throat slowly drags up, reaching your jaw and giving it a little shake.
“You’ve been all bite and for once it wasn’t me. What happened?” Simon asks, and you have to mentally think for a second to realize that he’s in fact trying to ask you what’s wrong.
Okay, pinning you to a table by your throat and making your dick hard is certainly a way to do it. You sour none the less, pointedly looking away with a pout- silly.
“It’s stupid.”
The butcher tilts his head.
“Liar.” He says simply, shaking your head again a bit rougher until you finally sputter and smack at him to stop.
“Agh- okay, fine, fine! I- I got stood up for a stupid date last night!” You snap out, that familiar tightness growing in your throat. Simon looks like he’s turned to stone, his grip tightened against your jaw. It’s unnerving, you swear his pupils have shrunk to pinpoints as he stares down at you.
“Why?” He asks, and you frown and grab at the man’s wrist. Trying to yank it off, but he doesn’t seem to care much for playing your usual game.
“Wh- I don’t know! Probably cause I’m fuckin- a guy with weird parts-“ you start to growl, only to yelp when Simon suddenly leans down over you, eyes wide and unnerving.
“No. Why did you go on a date with someone else?” He says.
You’re floored. Appalled? Embarrassed? Flustered?? There’s so many emotions rushing over your brain it makes you dizzy, suddenly nervous as you realize he’s actually- acknowledging this thing between the two of you.
“What- am I supposed to go on a date with you? The guy pinning me to my own table?” Your voice is much shakier than before, internally cursing at your sudden visible fluster.
“Obviously. Why else would you let me?” Simon says back, like you could actually shove him off if you wanted to. Well, you never considered actually shoving him off completely. A dark part of you enjoyed this- you always did. But it was embarrassing to hear him say it out loud!
“Wh- you’re such a fucking freak, Simon!” You growl instead, flinching when he leans into your face. Noses brushing, his simple black mask the only thing keeping your lips from touching.
“Exactly. So go on a date with me.” He grunts. You punch him in the gut this time, taking great satisfaction in the way he winces. His free hand snatches the fist, pinning one hand to the table.
“What-? Why would I go on a date with you because-“ You squeak out, and Simon has the audacity to let out a wheezed laugh.
“Cause you are too. That loser wouldn’t have handled you, I can. C’mon. Go out with me, lovie.”
You feel like you’re going to implode in embarrassment, and Simon’s eyes squint in what seems to be satisfaction. He finally stands to his full height again, letting go of your hands and just.. standing there. Waiting for you. His scent is thick, sweat and blood and something akin to cigarettes.
God, that combination should not smell as good as it does. By all means you should be grossed out. You should kick this man in the nuts and shout at him to fuck off.
But you’re really hard instead. Fuck, you’re so hard you fear that if you tried to knee him you’d just fall instead.
So you cross your arms, visibly sneering at the man still keeping your legs firmly pressed between his own.
“And just- where, do you plan on taking me out if I say yes?” You finally grit out. You hate the way your stomach flips at the way his eyes pinch in what’s probably a wry grin.
The steak he made is good. Really good. You suppose that a butcher would know how to cook steak, but sitting in this dank apartment on the couch- no table to sit at, just a ratty old sofa and a coffee table- you were skeptical.
His whole house is extremely barren, not a single decoration through the entire flat. The only blanket was for the slobbering pitbull begging at your feet for a bite of your food- ‘dog.’ That was his name.
No, seriously. It was on his name tag and everything, against a nice leather collar. His toys were the only sign of life, scattered across his big cozy bed in the corner of the living room- it was actually really sweet. He even had a bandana, little bones hand stitched into a warm red fabric that sit cutely against the dog’s thin speckled fur that was obviously well kept.
Dog made good company though, especially for his owner- the man giving him heavy pats any time he passed by his legs.
Simon is sitting next to you, legs sprawled and mask discarded- scarred face on full display as he chewed on his vegetables. You can’t help staring, slowly engraining the image of him in your mind in case he never let you back.
He wasn’t pretty in the slightest- rough scarred jaw, cleft lip and a broad brow ridge- deep dark circles under his eyes like he hardly ever slept. A thick nose, crooked like he’d been punched a couple times before. He almost had a bit of an overbite, now that you were looking at him..
Fuck.
He wasn’t good looking, but damn he was hot. It wasnt fair!
Simon seemed just as content to stare right back at you, barely blinking in his usual creepy ass way. Intense. Jesus Christ, the man was intense.
“Why Dog?”
“‘S what he is, innit?”
You purse your lips. There are so many weird things that you should absolutely be noting as red flags here. Your dick is making them seem much more beige, but you know better than to listen to him.
“Are you fattening me up to kill me?”
He laughs, swallowing his food and showing you that toothy grin. It’s wry, almost comical how strange he looks grinning- too much gum; like he never practiced actually smiling normally.
“Why would I waste good meat by killing you?”
You frown, but keep your hands to yourself for the Dog’s sake.
“And how would meat like me be well utilized?” You ask dryly, stuffing another bite of steak into your mouth.
Simon tilts his head.
“‘S a bit raunchy for a first date, lovie.”
“You’re the one who called me meat!”
“You asked me if I was gonna kill you.”
You huff, sinking into the couch cushion. Dog has his fat head resting against the arm rest, politely waiting still to see if you’d spare him anything.. you toss a piece to the pittie’s delight. Simon watches, visibly happy with your decision.
Whatever. You liked dogs, you weren’t doing it for Simon’s approval.
Your hand reaches down anyways, petting the pooch’s head.
racism runs so deeply in people that if you call it out you are calling out them, and instead of sitting down and examining their own racism they lash out at you for being sooo meansies to them. you don't even have to be talking about anyone's racist behavior in particular because it makes racists so uncomfortable they will come forward themselves and act like you're targeting them specifically. it's okay when they do it because they're doing it in the correct way, in the nice way! they don't mean it like that. in fact they're actually being progressive. you're the cruel one for acting like their racist behavior is racist. you're the problem if you're bothered by their comfort racism. you're the bitchy colored person who makes eeeverything about racism when it so clearly isn't. i'm fucking sick of this.
Being asexual and racist is embarassing as fuck. Being racist at all is obviously embarassing as fuck but the amount of racism and especially antiblackness i have been seeing from asexuals recently is obscene.
One of the only asexual activists is Yasmin Benoit, a Black woman. She has raised so much awareness for the community. She was the first asexual person to lead Pride in London, she started the #thisiswhatasexuallookslike movement and is THE leading voice for the community.
And you all will celebrate international asexuality day on April 6th but we wouldn't even have that if she hadn't cofounded it.
Edit: why are you all too scared to repost this. Cmon. Be vocal about being against racism
You didn’t think Simon kept the silly things you gave him.
The man had his fixations: bones, bugs, dirt sometimes- he kept jars of it in his room, hidden under the bed for reasons he would not disclose. Wild life seemed to calm the man’s incessant anxiety, oddly enough. The rot, the violence and beauty intertwined in the forest. Humans tried to sanitize their existence, pretend they didn’t murder and fuck and shit themselves. The forest did no such thing- was upfront about its violence, its depravity.
Simon liked stuff like that, only ever had stuff like that.
So you never thought he’d actually keep the little skunk stuffie you’d gotten him. Just a 99 cent little beanie baby, black and white just like all his masks and clothes. You’d given it to him after a small shopping spree to the local thrift store, laughed about how he stunk just like it when you handed him the toy. It barely sat in his massive palm, the man staring down at it before stuffing it into his pocket with a grumble of something you couldn’t understand.
You couldn’t quite believe your eyes four months later, when you popped into his quarters in the night. Only there to grab some of his reports you’d forgotten, just to see the man actually sleeping for once- little skunk stuffie gripped tightly in his fist, the fabric of its tiny head pressed up against his face as he slept.
It was.. sweet. He still had that balaclava on, safe and tucked away in his own world. You debated taking a picture, before glancing at the shot gun next to his bed and deciding against it.
You hug Ghost extra tight the next day though, burrowing into his chest to hide your giddiness as he clutched onto your back. Massive hands gripping your shirt tightly, like he never wanted to let go- but couldn’t bring himself to cling to your actual body itself. Huffing your hair, rubbing his masked face against the top of your head like a weird cat.
Ghost can’t understand you today. Usually, you’re so boisterous, loud and excited and laughing. Sure, a bit excitable for a beta, but none of them really fit into stereotypes. Today though, you’re acting like-
Well. Him.
Silent, eyes distant as you roll through the motions of the morning. It’s strange, to see you so skittish- arms folded like you’re hugging yourself. Like you’re keeping all your insides in, desperately not trying to let your guts spill out. The others all notice pretty quick, Soap visibly deflating when you don’t laugh at his usual antics. When he reaches out- you stand, letting out some kind of half assed excuse that your breakfast isn’t sitting well.
You end up hiding in your garage most of the day, fixing their gear up- exchanging parts, counting ammo. It helps, physically doing something you know will make a difference. You don’t answer the group chat, or their individual texts. You’re just.. a black hole. A pit of this strange emptiness, your scent stale and brittle- like dead grass. He wishes your pheromones were stronger, wishes he could understand you better.
When you skip lunch, Ghost decides it’s enough. The hangar is silent when he opens the back entrance- large garage door shut tight, like you were in a cocoon. No music, just the sound of a welding machine and distant sparks from under one of your little personal projects. He knows you can smell his scent- the way it sours when you don’t stop working and sit up.
“Hey.” He grunts, nudging your foot. The sound of the welder clicks off, and you slowly slide out on your creeper. You don’t lift up the welding mask, a black pit of nothing for Ghost to grasp onto.
“You skipped lunch.” He grunts, his scent souring more when you look away instead, shrugging your shoulders.
“Wasn’t hungry.”
“Weren’t hungry at breakfast either. You broken?” His voice sounds far harsher than he means, and he can tell it’s not working when you roll back under the hood of your project again.
“I’m fine, Ghost. I’ll just eat later,” you growl, and he probably should leave it at that. His broken instincts click and spark in the back of his skull though, an urge to examine his pack mate- soothe them, maybe.
How did Gaz usually do it? His nest was always clean and nice, he usually coaxed Ghost into laying down and taking a nap in the omega’s nest. He purred too, let Ghost relax on his chest and fall asleep to the vibrations.
Hm.
That must be what you needed.
You let out a shout that Ghost ignores when he yanks you back out from under the car. You thrash and kick at the alpha, snarling and yowling when he yanks off your welding mask-
“Simon- quit it- let go-!”
Puffy eyed. Your face is red and wet, and those broken instincts are suddenly pounding at the inside of Simon’s skull. He lets out gargled chuffs, hugging your body tightly against his and rubbing his masked face against you. Your teeth try to sink into his shoulder, only to shudder when you get a face full of pheromones instead. Usually Simon isn’t very good at using his, relying more often on physical presence since his glands worked poorly on good days, too thick with scar tissue to properly fill a room.
Somehow, the need to soothe you makes something in him work- old alpha instincts that are gnarled and twisted howling with desperation. Of course your arms go limp, huffing and sucking in deep breaths of your lieutenant. It’s almost cute, how fast you settle against him- that snarling dog you were mere moments ago fading like smoke.
He carries you like that all the way back to Gaz’s nest, your body clinging tightly to his massive frame the omega yips and jumps at the sight of you two. Circling the pair of you, his own pheromones blanketing you as the man wraps you both in blankets.
“I knew something was wrong, you should have been honest, pup! Now look at you both, all tuckered out hm? Simon, you did such a good job, such a good alpha,” Kyle cooed, scratching under the man’s chin and pressing kisses against both of your heads. Simon’s rumbling became louder, pleased alpha mixing well with the omega’s calming scent. You felt high, drooling and blinking tiredly against Simon’s tit- his rumbling rattling your skull just slightly in this- super satisfying way.
Your eyes finally closed when Gaz curled up against the two of you, face tucked into your hair as you drifted off to sleep.
was taking a break from searching up grad schools and reading @rawme-price post.
thinking about ghost who was scared of dogs when he was younger. his dad used to fight dogs when he was younger. starve the dogs then pin them against each other for his sick version of fun. every once in a while, when simon would cry to much or complain about his hunger, he would throw him into the backyard and then lock the door. simon would cry, beg, pound on the door, anything to get him away from the snapping, growling, borderline feral dogs.
ever since then, he's always tensed up when he heard a dog bark. declining when asked if he wanted to pet one. mind always flashing back to his childhood home. his dad's laughter, the dogs barking, and his ma helplessly watching, scared that her son's life would end so violently.
then after roba, before he makes it back to the military and is surviving in the streets with nothing but dumpster scraps and the occasional citizen feeling bad enough to give him some change to eat, he sees a stray dog. it reminds him of himself. left, forgotten, forced to fend for themselves.
it starts with a slow, both simon and the stray scared of each other, but needing something, anything. then simon starts bringing them scraps, he doesn't know what dogs can or can't eat so he tries to stick to veggies, rice, bread, anything plain. he gives the dog anything he doesn't eat. after, they rest together, one keeping watch over the other, making sure no one unknown approaches. they're protecting the pack, each other. simon finally gathers enough strength to plan to get his revenge on roba. he leaves, promises the dog he'll come back. and he does.
when he shows up to base with a scraggly dog, no one says anything. everyone can tell they are not meant to be separated. from then on simon names his dog "Riley".
simon still isn't fully over his fear of dogs. but his heart doesn't pound as hard, he doesn't get flashbacks to his ma and pa, he doesn't see them as feral and ready to tear into him once given the command.
Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Simon is a stubborn man. He fucked you once but wanted you to initiate the second time. You on the other hand were too stubborn to give in to the man staring daggers at you from across the bar. So in an act of desperation, Simon cooks up a plan starring his favorite Sergeant. Too bad you're a very clever girl.
Contains: very little plot, unprotected sex, d/s ghoap dynamic, filming during sex, orgasm denial, oral, daddy kink, semi public fingering, double penetration, not edited in the slightest
Word Count: 6.3k
Masterlist
You'd let him fuck once.
A fuck that Simon had earned by getting in between some drunk dickhead and you, his chivalry manifesting itself as wetness in your panties. You let him walk you home and split you open on his cock, two things you normally didn't do.
Not saying it hadn't been worth it, it absolutely was.
He fucked you like an animal in heat, arching your back with your ass in the air as he pounded his long cock inside you over and over again. One hand was gripping your hip so hard he left bruises. His other hand was wrapped around your face, covered in the spit and drool you were leaking out as you moaned into his calloused palm.
You swore you weren't normally like this, and part of you was flaring in humiliation at letting a stranger do this to you, to fuck you raw in your own bed and bend you in ways you felt for days after. He spewed nasty filth in your ear, but was gentlemanly enough to heed your warnings and pull out to paint his cum on your lower back.
He didn't stay the night, and you were a little thankful he didn't. But now every time you and your friends went back to that bar he was always there, sometimes alone sometimes with friends but always staring daggers at you. The hulking freak never approached you, despite having already fucked you. Your friends encouraged you to talk to him, and while he did give you the best sex of your life...you were honestly a little annoyed. If he wanted you so bad why the hell was he being so weird about it?
Tonight was another one of those nights, where you were earnestly trying to have a good time despite the holes being burned into your back by Simon's eyes. You had pulled out all the stops tonight, low cut top and push up bra to shelf your tits pleasantly below your collarbone. A tiny excuse of a skirt, so tantalizingly short it was practically screaming to be pushed up to reveal your black lace panties. And he still hadn't moved an inch.
So when you stood up to head to the bar, dizzying a bit as the alcohol rushed to your head, you were surprised when you were intercepted by another man that hung around Simon sometimes. He was handsome, not as big as Simon but still dwarfing you, and had a mohawk buzzed into his hair. He sidled right up next to you and purred a bit in your ear as he introduced himself as Johnny.
At first his pushy flirtations were a little disarming, and you fought back the urge to place a hand on his big chest and push him back where he came from. But then it dawned on you as you looked over at Simon, perched on the edge of his barstool and ready to pounce.
Simon had sent his friend to bother you, so he could fake an intervention and take you home again. Coward.
You interrupted Johnny's rambling by grabbing his face tight, your hand barely able to fit across the broad expanse of his jaw. He shut up immediately, looking at you with a glint in his eye as his legs shifted, clearly chubbing up in his pants.
"You know that guy?" you asked, nodding to Simon. Hopefully Johnny was drunk enough that he forgot any script Simon had put in his head. He halfway glanced back at Simon, who narrowed his eyes at the Scot.
"Ye, thas my Lt." Johnny said, a grin breaking out on his face when he saw that the answer he gave had satisfied you.
"Mmm." you hummed, "And he sent you over here to bother me, is that right?"
That made him pause, clearly not wanting to tattle on Simon, "Uhhh..."
You pulled his face in closer to yours, giving him your best bedroom eyes as he breathed in the smell of your perfume, "If you tell me the truth I'll let you fuck me."
His expression went blank for a second, clearly wanting to get his cock in you more than he cared about any plan his friend had concocted.
"Ye. He did." he nodded, his pupils had swallowed up the bright blue of his irises as you pulled his squished face to yours and placed a light kiss on his lips.
"Good boy." you smile at him, appreciating the way his lids flutter a bit. You shot Simon one last look, and if looks could kill you and Johnny would both have evaporated on the spot. His body language remained as stoic as ever, but even from across the bar you could see his dark eyes swirling with anger as he watched you drag Johnny out of the bar.
Johnny on the other hand, was following you like a puppy, hot on your heels as you led him by hand down the few block to your apartment. Once the two of you were inside he was looking at you like a cannibal, practically drooling at just the sight of you. Before you could get a word out he was on you, pushing you back until you both tumbled onto the stairs where he mounted you and pressed a wet kiss on your lips. You moaned into him as his big hands roamed over your clothes, his body heat already making sweat prick at your hairline.
He pushed your panties to the side and groaned when he found you already wet and sticky for him, pushing a finger inside without any warning. Your back arched up into him as he sped his hand up, his big thumb rubbing mean and irregular circles on your needy clit.
"Johnny," you gasped the second his lips unlocked from yours, "Upstairs, now."
He grinned and obliged, removing his fingers and wrapping his arms around your back to lift you as if you weighed nothing, trekking his heavy boots up your stairs and heeding your guidance to your bedroom.
Given his reactions to being called a good boy, and the fervor with which he was following your commands, you foolishly thought you'd be in control. Figured that be was probably more submissive than his friend who had rearranged you, and that you'd be able to ride him until he was begging you for a break. But the second he tossed you on the mattress all his pretenses were gone as Johnny stared at you, his bright blue eyes holding something dark behind them. The dynamic had shifted in a fraction of a second, the air thick with the anticipation that was oozing from your pores.
You were frozen in place as he stripped you, then himself, revealing a strong broad chest carpeted with a layer of dark hair, hair that led all the way down to the base of his thick cock and covered the heaviest set of balls you'd ever seen. You mouth watered at the sight, eyes flickering up to his again as you licked your lips in a silent plea to please let you get your mouth on him. In a mirror image to what you had done to him at the bar, he reached down to clasp your face, not a hint of submission in his eyes as he squeezed the fat of your cheeks.
"You want 'im in yer mouth?" he crooned, voice low and dark. You nodded as best you could in his grip, limply letting him pull you up and force you down on your knees in front of him. His other hand came down to cradle the other side of your face as his cock rested heavily on your face, making him smile at the sight.
"S'pretty." he grinned, "Balls first, love."
Your body was on autopilot, your only goal to please him. So you opened your mouth for him to shift a bit and let his sack fall on your tongue. He groaned as you let your tongue wet both of them, before sucking one in your mouth as you palmed the other. They were warm and full, and his musk was egging you on as you tentatively reached a hand up to grip his shaft. He eyed you, but allowed you to stroke him slowly as you moved to the other ball. You batted your eyelashes at him and he hummed, pulling you off and guiding his tip past your lips and across the muscle of your tongue.
His hands found their purchase in the hair at the base of your scalp, lazily fucking into your open mouth as he let you adjust. Simon was big, but Johnny was thick, and your throat had no room for air flow as he pulled your face all the way down to his base. You coughed around him, the thick hair tickling your nose and making him laugh at you. He thrusted once to test you, and laughed again when you gagged around him, a string of spit leaking out and falling onto your bare breasts.
Johnny pulled out and let you get a quick breath of air before he was fully inside again, and again and again. His pace was borderline relentless now, not paying any mind to the tears that were falling down your face as you sobbed around him. Your body kept trying to expel him, but his strong hands held you in your place as he fucked your throat.
Finally, he pulled out completely, a mess of saliva, snot, and precut all mixed together in a string that connected your lips to his tip.
"Can see why he wanted ye so bad," Johnny said, using his cock to smear the mess all over your face, "Pretty bird."
You whined as you felt yourself leaking out onto the floor below you, and once he was done defiling your face he tossed you back up onto the bed and flipped you onto your stomach. You barely had time to get your bearing before you felt his hands on your ass, spreading you wide open as he pressed his face directly onto your cunt. You let out a long, drawn out moan as his muffled voice told you how good you tasted. He lapped at you like a dog, eventually adding his fingers back in. He brought you right to the edge, before cruelly pulling off and standing up behind you.
Now a whining mess, you begged him to let you cum, only to have him tut at you. Rough hands moved your legs into the exact position he wanted before cramming half his cock into you with zero warning. A brief shot of pain rocketed up your spine and you yelped out, only to have his thick fingers enter your mouth and gag you. As he pulled back and sheathes himself into you again, your walls finally spasm and relax, allowing him to slide all the way in with a grunt.
"Thought Simon woulda stretched this cunt out," Johnny groaned, snapping his hips up and making your whole body jiggle, "He's losin' his touch."
You couldn't muster anything more than a moan in response, the stretch from Johnny burning in the pit of your stomach as he fucked down into you. His thrusts were nonstop, setting a brutal pace that left you drooling into the duvet beneath you as grey matter oozed out of your ears. His hand was putting a delicious pressure on your back, keeping you pressed in place beneath him. He suddenly gathered your hair in a fist and pulled you upright so your back was flush against his chest.
"Y'wanna cum, pretty girl?" he asked, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as you nodded frantically. "Earn it then."
His voice was blunt as he pushed you back down, pulling his cock out from your hole and once again snuffing out your building orgasm. At this point you were not above begging, now turned into a blubbering mess of please please please and I'll be good I promise.
He hummed, not satisfied with your pleas as he manhandled you onto your back with your legs spread wide for him. One hand guided his cock back into you while the other gathered your wrists and held you down, forcing you to lay still and take him while he fucked back into you.
Despite the mess still on your face, he leaned down and pressed a searing kiss on your lips, licking it off your lips as you whined into him. Your hips were aching as he kept pounding, his grip on your wrists only releasing when he moved to hike one leg up over his shoulder. The new angle hit something inside you, and he grinned at you knowingly.
You felt like you were going to perish right there underneath him if he didn't let you cum, begging him for you release. He smiled through the sweat on his face, pinching your clit and making you sob again.
"Good girls cum when they're told, aye?" he said, your voice coming out in a blubbering yes yes yes!
You clenched down on him, trying to stave off your release as he built you back up once again. His fingers were exploring ever inch of your wet cunt that wasn't occupied by his own cock, his hand suddenly pressing down on your lower belly as he felt himself bulging inside you. Your hands were clawing at his wrist begging and pleading with him silently.
"Use yer words," he urged, applying more pressure to your already taught abdomen.
"P-Please, oh fuck," you said, "Please Johnny, I wanna cum so bad please."
"Ya gonna let me fill this pussy up? Hmm?" he asked, smirking at the immediate YES! that escaped your lips at the promise of an orgasm.
"Should record this, show Lt. how it's done." he growled, leaning to the side to quickly grab his phone from your bedside table. Both of you knew that you'd agree to just about anything at this point, delirious as you could see the cliffs edge right in front of you. So you put up no resistance as he pressed record on his phone, aiming the lens right at where his cock was bullying your hole, a sticky white ring around his base proof of your want and arousal.
"G'head baby," he croaked, close to his own release, "Show Daddy how good ye feel."
Once the words left his lips you let go of the tension you had been holding, letting your core relax as the rubber band in you snapped. You threw your head back and screamed out his name at the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls as they pulsed, milking him as he finished deep inside of you. Acutely aware of the camera now pointed at you, your hands moved to grope your hard nipples as you squirted a bit around Johnny's base.
"Fuuuuuck." Johnny moaned out, shifting back and pulling out of you, focusing the camera on where his cum was messily leaking out of you. One more push down on your belly had it spilling out of you in one go, your thighs shaking at the feeling of it running down along your ass.
Simon had fucked you good, but Johnny had fucked you dead.
Your one orgasm felt like three all at once, and your muscles were absolutely spent. Johnny chuckled to himself as he left your room, coming back with a warm washcloth after finding your bathroom down the hall. He started with your face, cleaning up the mess he had made, half of which had been wiped off on your duvet when he pressed your head into it. He cleaned the sweat off your chest, and most importantly he wiped away the stickiness between your legs, shamelessly cleaning every inch of you.
After he went back to the bathroom to clean himself off, Johnny came back in the room yawning as he stretched his arms dramatically. He picked you up, tucking you into bed as he crawled in next to you, maneuvering you to drape you over his chest as he rubbed your back.
"Y'did so good, baby." he said softly, getting a small mewl in response from you. Your throat was going to be sore tomorrow. Hell, your whole body was going to be sore tomorrow. His warmth and the gently rise and fall of his chest lulled you to sleep in a matter of moments, too exhausted to tell him he didn't need to stay the night.
The morning after your night with Johnny, you woke up to an empty bed. You sighed, figuring he probably woke up before you and saw himself out. Tentatively testing your muscles, you stretched and laughed as your body protested. Every inch of you was delightfully sore.
Sighing into a pillow, you were prepared to drift back to sleep when you smelled coffee. Your brows furrowed in confusion, surely he wasn't in your kitchen...
That is exactly where Johnny was. Happily cooking up eggs, toast, and some breakfast sausages he found in your freezer. He was too busy whistling to himself that he didn't hear you pad into the room behind him, only seeing you when he turned to plate the food in the pan.
"There she is!" he beamed at you, "Mornin' beautiful."
"Morning..." you said slowly, trying to piece together why the hell he was still here. He raised a brow at you expression, rounding the counter to walk up to you with his head cocked to the side.
"I got two heads or somethin'?" he asked quizzically.
"I just wasn't expecting you to...be here." you gestured around the kitchen, offering him a small smile to let him know it wasn't an unwelcome sight. He nodded, stopping short for a second when he asked you something.
"Simon didn't stay?"
His question made your cheeks burn a bit, remembering you had now fucked two men on the same military unit. You shook your head, not wanting to make Simon seem like a bad guy, it truthfully wasn't a big deal...was it?
"Didn't see the need." you said, not sure whether you were indicating to yourself not needing Simon to have stayed, or that Simon clearly didn't see the need to stay. Johnny frowned at that.
"Shame." he tutted, "Gonna have'ta teach that boy a lesson."
He shook his head while he said it, and something about his tone piqued your interest. Maybe you had Johnny's rank mixed up in your head? But you could have sworn he had mentioned being a sergeant, a lower rank than lieutenant, so what the hell could he possibly do that would teach Simon a lesson?
You didn't push the issue, opting to just sit down and eat a much needed meal. Johnny watched you carefully, encouraging you to eat all of it. Even just eating with him you felt the need to submit under his gaze. He insisted on getting your phone number, assuring you that your performance last night already had him itching for more. So he gave you a light kiss and a wink as he left out your front door.
While you remained at home resting up on your couch, Simon was waiting at the base with sweaty palms awaiting Johnny's return. He hadn't accounted for you wanting to fuck Johnny instead of him, and when he checked the sergeant's location early this morning he was still at your flat. He also awoke to a notification from Johnny, a text containing a shaky video of his cock splitting you open as you moaned like a pornstar in the background. Blood rushed to his cock as he watched the camera pan to your face, sweaty and covered in what looked like spit and mascara. His grip on the phone tightened as Johnny finished inside you, his cum leaking out of your gaping hole as if to taunt him for what he was not allowed to do.
So now he was lifting weights in the base gym, waiting for Johnny to arrive and regale him with how much better he fucked you or whatever stories he wanted to boast about. Then again, maybe he'd have more videos to share...
"She sniffed ye out, Lt." he heard from across the room, Johnny's grin plastered on his features as he made his way over to Simon's bench. "Figured out yer whole plan. Sorry but she was too pretty to pass up."
"You came inside her." Simon said flatly, making Johnny's grin just a tad more smug.
"She was beggin' for it." the man shrugged. "Heard ye didn't stick around after ye were done with her."
Simon's back straightened a bit at Johnny's change in tone. He was all too familiar with that.
"She didn't ask me to." he gruffed, scratching behind his neck.
"Not how you treat a lady Simon." Johny chastised, turning to walk out of the gym, "Come on Lt."
Simon sighed, dick chubbing up in his boxers as he followed Johnny to an empty barrack room.
So as you were in your apartment, settling into a warm bath to ease your muscles, you had no idea that Simon was enduring exactly what you had hours ago. Ass up in the air he groaned into the rough bedding on the sorry excuse for a mattress as Johnny pounded into him relentlessly.
"Not nice to leave a lady high and dry, aye?" Johnny said, eliciting a whine from Simon's lips.
"M'sorry." he muttered into the bed.
"No yer not." Johnny said, snapping his hips up and making Simon's aching cock dribble out as it was left unattended. "Next time we see our bird yer gonna apologize like a man."
Simon's brain went fuzzy as Johnny's hands gripped the flesh of his ass, spreading him open so he could spit down onto his hole. He reached a hand around to grasp at his own cock, but Johnny swatted it away. Tears formed at the corners of Simons eyes as he begged Johnny for just one stroke. Johnny did not budge, leaving Simon's cock aching and soaked.
Johnny played with his own balls, squeezing the sack and rolling them in his hand as he reached his peak, shooting his load deep inside of Simon as he groaned out. He stilled, placing a hand on Simon's sweaty lower back to steady himself.
"Ahh," he sighed as he pulled his cock out of Simon's gaping hole, "Only good boys get to cum, Simon. Remember tha'."
The empty feeling of his hole and the taught, full feeling of his balls was torturous, and Simon twisted slightly to look up at Johnny.
"Please." he croaked before pulling out a card that always worked in his favor, "I'll be a good boy, I will."
"Prove it." was all he got. Johnny stuffed himself back inside his cargo pants and left Simon to clean himself up.
Simon groaned to himself, collapsing on the soiled sheets as Johnny's cum leaked out of him. He should have known better than to involve his sergeant.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
None of your friends were available to come to the bar with you, but Johnny had texted you asking if you'd be there so you were dolled up anyway. Walking in, Simon was already in attendance, and for once he actually stood up when you walked in. He hurried over to you before you could even get to the bar to order a drink.
"Hey!" you protested as he grabbed your elbow, dragging you through the mingling crowd and towards the bathroom. He remained silent as he dragged you into a stall in the men's room and locked the door.
"Enjoyed making that little movie huh?" he spat, pressing you up against the grimy wall. You sputtered for only a moment before realizing that Johnny must have shown the video he recorded to Simon like he said he would.
"I did." you spat back, "He fucked me real good, Simon."
"You let him come inside you." he growled, clearly upset that you had held up that rule for him but not Johnny.
"He cooked me breakfast." you shrugged, knowing it was a bullshit excuse.
"I fucked you first."
"He fucked me better."
"Bullshit. I know he's not bigger than me."
You raised a brow at that. Sure, it was probably because they'd seen each other in the showers or something, but the corners of your lips turned up as your brain went somewhere else. Surely teasing a big macho military man about having gay sex wouldn't lead to any kind of retaliation.
"How would you know? Huh?" you teased, "He fuck you too?"
You expected a snarl, a biting comment, hell maybe even a hand around your neck. But before he grunted out a simple "no", something flashed across his dark eyes, something truthful.
"Oh my God." you said, grinning, "He does. He fucks you like he fucked me, doesn't he? I bet you're a whiny bitch when he-"
"Enough." Simon said, his hand coming up to grab your neck as he shoved your head back flush with the stall wall.
"Oh God if you're listening please let me watch that." you laughed, looking up tp the ceiling and lifting your hands in a mock prayer.
Before he could get another word in, the door to the bathroom opened, and a familiar set of boots walked up to the locked stall, easily turning the lock open with a knife. Johnny swung the door open, bumping it into Simon's shoulder as he had you pinned against the wall.
"What did I say about apologizing?" Johnny said flatly, making you blink in confusion. Simon faltered, and when you looked back at him he was staring wide-eyed at Johnny. The air was thick, tension brewing between all three of you as Johnny's eyes moved from yours, to Simon, and back to you again. Simon only moved when Johnny nodded towards the door, dragging you with him.
You thought the car ride to Johnny's would be dead silent, especially since Johnny had banished Simon to the back seat. But he made sure the big man sat directly in the middle seat so he would have a good view for when Johnny reached over and stuck his hand up your skirt and into your panties. He lazily fucked his fingers into you, barely looking your way as he unraveled you with just one hand. You could feel Simon's eyes on you, watching every twitch of your facial muscles as you moaned quietly.
While stopped at a traffic light, Johnny sped up, angling himself to pump further into you and bring you up and over the edge, letting you cream all over his fingers as you gripped his wrist and keened out for him. Once he pulled his hand out from between your legs, he sucked his fingers clean and turned around in the seat to look at Simon.
"See what good pets get?" he questioned lowly, making your breath catch.
Your mind was spinning with the fact that you had been correct about their dynamic. You had meant it just as a jab to what you thought was Simon's hyper-masculinity, but that clearly wasn't the way it landed. Can't always judge a book by its cover, sometimes the giant hulking behemoth who fucked you to so hard you cried also enjoys being submissive to big hairy men. You kept your giggle to yourself, wanting to stay in Johnny's good graces for tonight, but you couldn't help give him a dopey smile. He winked at you and pinched your cheeks as the light turned and he continued driving, Simon crossing his arms and pouting like a child in the backseat.
Simon was still pouting when Johnny finally got you in bed. You could barely register where in the room he was, Johnny had you folded so intensely you couldn't decipher left from right anymore. But when he flipped you onto your stomach, you were facing where Simon was sat, relegated to a chair in the corner of the room, forced to watch as his sergeant bullied his cock into your already sore pussy with double the ardor he had a week ago. Johnny pulled your face up so you were staring directly at Simon, and leaned his face down next to yours with a big grin on his face.
"Boy's conflicted, pet." he said, loud enough for Simon to hear. "Doesn't know if he wants to be in my place or yers."
The thought of that drew a long moan from your lips, and Johnny laughed in your ear. His thrusts had slowed down, just enough so that Simon could hear everything that Johnny spoke to you.
"What do you say?" he cooed at you, "Should I let him take my place? Hmm?"
Though you would love for them to both take turns on top of you, there was something you wanted to see more. You whined and shook you head, a little to Johnny's surprise.
"No? What do you w-" you cut him off before he could finish the question.
"Me." you said, unable to form a full sentence.
"You? Tell me what you want baby, use your words." he urged, rolling his hips once to encourage you.
"Want him- ah - t'replace me." you croaked out, and you felt his brows raise as he laughed again.
"Dirty girl." he murmured into your neck before sitting up and pulling his cock from you. He pushed you to the side, rolling you onto your back as he beckoned to the man in the corner.
"Yer lucky day big guy. Birdie wants to see how I taught you your lesson."
If being fucked by Simon was good, watching him come undone under another man was heavenly. Johnny was a bull, and when he got into a rhythm fucking Simon on his back, you clambered over Simon's chest and peppered his face and neck with kisses as he let out the sweetest moans you'd ever heard. Looking to Johnny for permission, you glanced at Simon's leaking cock, hard and red as it went unattended once again.
"Not yet." Johnny grunted, making you frown.
"Please?" you whined, getting a shake of his head in response as he pushed Simon's legs apart farther, earning a groan from the man.
"Sit on his face." Johnny said, making you freeze. "He can cum if he can get you off."
You swung your leg over Simon's chest, still facing Johnny at his request. Simon's arms came up and gripped you around your hips, pulling your cunt down onto his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he suctioned onto your clit, and you felt Johnny's lips on yours as hen leaned in to kiss you. The three of you had formed an erotic triangle, hot and sticky as the you all moaned in tandem.
Soon enough, you lost control of your lower half, you hips rocking along Simon's nose and face at their own pace. He was eating you with a fervor, knowing that when you came on his face Johnny would allow you to service his cock finally. A light yelp escaped you as he gently teethed at your clit, applying pressure that made you leak out so he could lick you clean. Your shaky arms were reaching out for Johnny who was lost in a cloud of his own pleasure and the sight of you.
You looked at him, silently asking for permission to cum before you did anything out of line. He nodded at you, and the sight of his cock stretching Simon and making his cock bounce ripped an orgasm from your abdomen that surprised even you in its intensity. You felt a small stream flow out of yourself and Simon greedily lapped it all up, and you were unsure if that was to please you or Johnny.
"Good lad." Johnny said, reaching out and slotting his hands under your arms and dragging you closer towards him. He guided you down onto Simon's cock, making Simon jump a bit at the sudden sensation.
Johnny moved you up and down, almost as if you were a flashlight for Simon, and your poor cunt had no time to recover from your orgasm before the veins in Simon's cock were rubbing all the perfect spots deep inside you. The two you you moved in sync, and Simon was a mess under the two of you.
Suddenly, Johnny pulled you off and himself out, hauling you up and over his shoulder as you watched Simon's legs shake as he nearly sobbed.
"You said-" he started, only to be cut off by a look from Johnny.
"Clean me off before I go back inside her." Johnny demanded, and from your position dangling upside down you couldn't see Simon licking and cleaning Johnny's cock but you could hear all the wet, needy sounds his mouth was making. You wiggled a little, desperate for a better view, but Johnny swung a palm around and sharply smacked your ass to make you stay still.
Once he was satisfied with Simon's work, Johnny told the man to lay back against the headboards as he let you back down onto the mattress. He gave your ass a little tap, encouraging you to climb back onto Simon but the other way around. Johnny let himself rest for a moment, enjoying watching Simon fuck up into you while you straddled his wide frame in a pathetic attempt at cowgirl.
Just as you and Simon were both nearing your peaks again, you felt the bed shift behind you as Johnny loomed at your backside.
"Let's see how far she can stretch, huh Lt?" Johnny said, the smile evident in his voice. Simon chuckled and it became very evident that it was no longer Johnny fucking you and Simon, rather Johnny and Simon were fucking you.
At first you thought the Scot was going to try and press into you ass, so you squirmed a bit only to be met with Simon's big hands holding you in place as Johnny mounted you from behind. He told you to relax, and your brows furrowed as you felt his tip press at the entrance of your cunt rather than your ass. Simons massive length was already buried inside of you, and Johnny was trying to join?
"No, no, no, Johnny please," you sobbed as he pressed harder, his wet tip burning the edges of your hole as he stretched you further and further until he finally notched it inside you.
"Shhh," Johnny shushed in you ear as you begged him to have an ounce of mercy on you, "Just relax baby you can do it."
Not like you had a choice. There was no where to run with Simon's wide waist keeping your legs perfectly spread and Johnny's weight now anchoring you in place. So you sat there, trembling and unable to breathe as Johnny pressed further and further inside of your already occupied hole. Once he forced in as much in as he could, the two of them moved as a team, one fucking in while the other pulled out. Your brain was completely fried, absolutely no thoughts in your skull as the overwhelming feeling between your legs was making your vision go white.
They were speaking to each other, but you couldn't decipher what they were saying as they sped up, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as they allowed you to collapse forward onto Simon's chest while they fucked you. As you felt another orgasm building it felt so close yet so far away, almost as if you were looking down at the scene instead of taking an active part in it. All your nerves were so overstimulated you might have missed your own orgasm if you didn't feel a river flowing out of you and onto Simon's pelvis.
The scream that left your lips was sure to cause a neighbor to call 999, a loud sound that felt foreign to your ears. They are fucking in time with one another now, and they both had their massive mitts on your hips as they released inside of you.
Simon was first, letting out a guttural noise that vibrated the entire bed as his hips snapped up into yours one, two, three times as his seed finally met your walls. Johnny wasn't far behind, adding his own spend to the mess between your legs as he rutted into you. They both fucked their cum into you, letting it spurt messily out around their bases.
You were totally limp laid across Simon's chest as Johnny eased out of you, coaxing Simon out after him. He let the two of you lay there while he sat back and caught his breath again, Simon's hand coming up to stroke your back. You had never felt so utterly ruined in your life, and a part of you wondered if one cock was ever going to be enough again. You groaned as you tried to move, both men shushing you and telling you to stay still.
Johnny was the first to get up, leaving the room while you lay strewn across Simon like a throw blanket. Eventually, Simon swung his legs around with a small huff, standing and carrying you into the bathroom where Johnny had run you a warm bath.
They let you soak as they cleaned themselves off, before Johnny reached into the water to clean you himself.
"Ye did so good." he said softly, a small smile cropping up on your lips as he gazed at you, "Did ye have fun?"
Your voice was completely shot, so you gave him a nod in response. He told you Simon was getting the bed ready, so he helped you out of the tub and toweled you dry. It was so interesting to watch them working as a team to take care of you, and it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
That night you fell asleep sandwiched between them, happily snuggling your face into Johnny's chest hair while your legs were tangled with Simon's behind you.
I always forget there are maga people on tumblr, this doesn’t feel like a website you’d find them on, so to keep them away:
Reblog if your blog is a maga free zone because if it wasn’t clear enough fuck ice, fuck maga, fuck Trump, Fuck Rowling, and fuck all the other bigots I missed
you know when men slap their dick on your pussy a few times before they put it in? i feel like the 141 each have their own ritual.
simon? he slaps with weight. his cock is heavy, girthy, and he sort of just lets it drop against you, wet, blunt smacks across your lips and clit until you’re slick enough that every smack sounds obscene and you’re whining for him to just put it in already.
price slides his. he doesn’t tease so much as he just wants to watch his cock coat with your come. dragging the length of himself through your lips slowly, getting himself nice and wet until his fat head finally catches at your entrance on its own.
kyle’s the kind to feed you only the tip just to pull it out and drag the whole length of his cock up to your clit and back down, notches the head in again, pulls out, drags it back up. he’ll get lost doing it too if you let him, ten-fifteen minutes of it.
johnny slaps your cunt with his cock because he likes to watch. eyes locked on the way you twitch every time it lands, bringing it down in quick, smacking succession. distantly wondering where the hell he left his phone.
GAZPRICE AND READER CUCK CHAIR FIC WHEN OH GREAT WIZARD
Price has been sitting there watching the two of you grind pitifully against each other for the past ten minutes, which- normally for people wouldn’t be that fun, but John is 4 glasses of scotch in and having the time of his life.
You’re cute under Gaz, teary eyed and desperately whining. For what, you might ask?
“John! Please- please, John- let him fuck me already- please- fuck-! I can’t- please- just-!” You keep whimpering, trying to pull and tug at your binds- yeah, Price tied your wrists to the bed frame. It had been so cute, watching you kick and yowl all angry like- snarling that it wasn’t fair. Oh, but that angry attitude fell apart when John shoved your favorite between your legs, sweet gaz to kiss and lick at your needy little cock. And right when he was about to move to fuck you-
Price started his game.
“Ah ah. Neither of you have worked hard enough, sluts. Come on- frot for me, show me you want this.”
Gaz’s eyes had snapped to his- soft lips pushing into a pout that nearly made the older man take it back- having to grip his cock tight to keep his firm look.
Prices’ eyes slide up his sergeants sweaty back now, every muscle clenched as he rolls his hips back and forth across your sopping little cunt- his head bumping against your t dick. Slow, steady- keeping the same rhythm even as his arms shake with the effort of keeping himself up right now. Price can see how swollen both of your cocks are, how Gaz is leaking pre and making every movement slicker and slicker.
He hasn’t whined once though- Kyle Garrick has crawled through shit and blood and guts, Kyle has crouched perfectly still for 12 hours with a perfect shot lined up- he doesn’t complain, period. It’s funny though, seeing how quickly he’s begun to shake- your soaked hole seems to be the man’s one kryptonite.
Your pitiful sweet whimpers were probably what was breaking him more than anything. Gaz wasn’t a hard dom by any means on a good day- and with Price’s hot gaze on his back, keeping him in that light headed state? Oh, he was struggling.
Your hips were much less controlled, frantically humping his cock with teary whimpers. Kyle couldn’t even hold you still, forced to endure you falling apart under him. Tear stained face, wobbly lip and the most pitiful eyes looking up at him- Price saw it.
Ohhh, he saw it.
A twitch in the muscle of Kyle’s neck.
He squeezed the tip of his cock, smearing his own precum. That was what he wanted, what Price was waiting for.
Kyle looked up, his stern face cracking apart at the seams. Sweat dripping from his skin, full lips pulled into a desperate pout. Right at Price.
The captain steeled himself, tilting his head with a smile. More. He wanted more.
“Captain,” he says once. Price takes a deep puff of his cigar, stroking himself.
“Please.”
Fuck, that sounded so good. Price loved his favorite sergeant, loved listening to him beg to fuck the sweet boy under him. Price fucking loved having that power over him, loved seeing him shake and swear and sweat trying to follow his captain’s orders.
His hand sped up, a low groan escaping the older man’s chest.
“You think you deserve it, soldier?” He grunts out, excited by the way Gaz sucks in a desperate breath. You’re drooling, stuttering hips humping him so needily- driving the man to answer.
“Yessir- been good, sir,” the sergeant whimpers, his hips finally jerking against yours when his cock caught your entrance- nearly slipping in, only just avoiding disobedience. Price sits for a long minute, just enjoying the sights as his grip speeds up on himself- the pair of you looking over in desperation. Staring at his fist jerk up and down, needy and desperate- wanting that same pleasure.
“Well go on then, you filthy mutts,” the captain finally grunts out- and it’s like watching a bomb go off in real time. Gaz is slamming his cock inside to the hilt as you arch your hips, nearly breaking the headboard with how hard you’re tugging on your binds. You both let out choked grunts, starting the most desperate and frantic pace Price thinks you two have ever done in front of him.
Every slam of his hips claps loud and wet, Gaz’s noises engulfing your choked gasps. He sounds so fucking good, absolutely fucked out of his mind with pitchy whimpers. Full lips hanging open in need, eyes staring down at your teary face. Price could see how hard his balls were slamming against your ass, hear how hard his tip was slamming against your cervix- feel how hard you were cumming around Gaz’s cock in under two minutes.
Gaz’s moans get louder, like he’s trying to bite his lip and failing miserably before he cums deep inside. Every pathetic pump of his hips after is a reward for Price, pushed over the edge by your combined noises. It’s like music to his ears, listening to your overstimulated whimpers- looking at Kyle’s toned back as he trembled over you. Still not touching- but he did rip the sheets a little.
Price finally stands, filling his glass with scotch and standing over the pair of you. He pulls Kyle’s head back gently, tipping the alcohol into the man’s mouth with a hum.
“Hold it. Share with the pup,” John murmurs, staring when Kyle finally leans down to kiss you- lips desperately clashing as scotch leaks down your chins. It’s cute, absolutely pathetic.
John coming up behind gaz, grabbing his hips and forcing him to keep thrusting into reader...
Gaz gasping and whining trying to pull back from being too sensitive but price grip is too firm so he cant do anything about it. Listening to gaz strangle out "too much" and john cooing mockingly "ooh is it too much... well you begged so nicely to cum for me so now we're not stopping until youre empty"
GAZPRICE AND READER CUCK CHAIR FIC WHEN OH GREAT WIZARD
Price has been sitting there watching the two of you grind pitifully against each other for the past ten minutes, which- normally for people wouldn’t be that fun, but John is 4 glasses of scotch in and having the time of his life.
You’re cute under Gaz, teary eyed and desperately whining. For what, you might ask?
“John! Please- please, John- let him fuck me already- please- fuck-! I can’t- please- just-!” You keep whimpering, trying to pull and tug at your binds- yeah, Price tied your wrists to the bed frame. It had been so cute, watching you kick and yowl all angry like- snarling that it wasn’t fair. Oh, but that angry attitude fell apart when John shoved your favorite between your legs, sweet gaz to kiss and lick at your needy little cock. And right when he was about to move to fuck you-
Price started his game.
“Ah ah. Neither of you have worked hard enough, sluts. Come on- frot for me, show me you want this.”
Gaz’s eyes had snapped to his- soft lips pushing into a pout that nearly made the older man take it back- having to grip his cock tight to keep his firm look.
Prices’ eyes slide up his sergeants sweaty back now, every muscle clenched as he rolls his hips back and forth across your sopping little cunt- his head bumping against your t dick. Slow, steady- keeping the same rhythm even as his arms shake with the effort of keeping himself up right now. Price can see how swollen both of your cocks are, how Gaz is leaking pre and making every movement slicker and slicker.
He hasn’t whined once though- Kyle Garrick has crawled through shit and blood and guts, Kyle has crouched perfectly still for 12 hours with a perfect shot lined up- he doesn’t complain, period. It’s funny though, seeing how quickly he’s begun to shake- your soaked hole seems to be the man’s one kryptonite.
Your pitiful sweet whimpers were probably what was breaking him more than anything. Gaz wasn’t a hard dom by any means on a good day- and with Price’s hot gaze on his back, keeping him in that light headed state? Oh, he was struggling.
Your hips were much less controlled, frantically humping his cock with teary whimpers. Kyle couldn’t even hold you still, forced to endure you falling apart under him. Tear stained face, wobbly lip and the most pitiful eyes looking up at him- Price saw it.
Ohhh, he saw it.
A twitch in the muscle of Kyle’s neck.
He squeezed the tip of his cock, smearing his own precum. That was what he wanted, what Price was waiting for.
Kyle looked up, his stern face cracking apart at the seams. Sweat dripping from his skin, full lips pulled into a desperate pout. Right at Price.
The captain steeled himself, tilting his head with a smile. More. He wanted more.
“Captain,” he says once. Price takes a deep puff of his cigar, stroking himself.
“Please.”
Fuck, that sounded so good. Price loved his favorite sergeant, loved listening to him beg to fuck the sweet boy under him. Price fucking loved having that power over him, loved seeing him shake and swear and sweat trying to follow his captain’s orders.
His hand sped up, a low groan escaping the older man’s chest.
“You think you deserve it, soldier?” He grunts out, excited by the way Gaz sucks in a desperate breath. You’re drooling, stuttering hips humping him so needily- driving the man to answer.
“Yessir- been good, sir,” the sergeant whimpers, his hips finally jerking against yours when his cock caught your entrance- nearly slipping in, only just avoiding disobedience. Price sits for a long minute, just enjoying the sights as his grip speeds up on himself- the pair of you looking over in desperation. Staring at his fist jerk up and down, needy and desperate- wanting that same pleasure.
“Well go on then, you filthy mutts,” the captain finally grunts out- and it’s like watching a bomb go off in real time. Gaz is slamming his cock inside to the hilt as you arch your hips, nearly breaking the headboard with how hard you’re tugging on your binds. You both let out choked grunts, starting the most desperate and frantic pace Price thinks you two have ever done in front of him.
Every slam of his hips claps loud and wet, Gaz’s noises engulfing your choked gasps. He sounds so fucking good, absolutely fucked out of his mind with pitchy whimpers. Full lips hanging open in need, eyes staring down at your teary face. Price could see how hard his balls were slamming against your ass, hear how hard his tip was slamming against your cervix- feel how hard you were cumming around Gaz’s cock in under two minutes.
Gaz’s moans get louder, like he’s trying to bite his lip and failing miserably before he cums deep inside. Every pathetic pump of his hips after is a reward for Price, pushed over the edge by your combined noises. It’s like music to his ears, listening to your overstimulated whimpers- looking at Kyle’s toned back as he trembled over you. Still not touching- but he did rip the sheets a little.
Price finally stands, filling his glass with scotch and standing over the pair of you. He pulls Kyle’s head back gently, tipping the alcohol into the man’s mouth with a hum.
“Hold it. Share with the pup,” John murmurs, staring when Kyle finally leans down to kiss you- lips desperately clashing as scotch leaks down your chins. It’s cute, absolutely pathetic.
