It’s extremely fucked up that some ppl try to make you feel stupid and immature for hoping for a better world. You say you want world peace and mfs think you need a pacifier; dawg, I just don’t want ppl dying from violence. This idea that ppl simply must die as casualties of war is misanthropic to say the least.
unlearn shame. then with all the new space in your brain you can learn something cool. like you can learn how to read braille. or you can learn how to make chocolate mousse. you can do anything really
𓉳ིྀᬊ 𝓬𝔀 — choking. rough sex. jabber is a de-ge-ner-rate!
choking jabber while riding him is the quickest way to force an orgasm out of him.
you’re already on the verge of snapping his dick in half with how hard your riding him, grinding your cunt back n forth at a harsh pace, clenching around his girth like your trying to cut off blood circulation in his cock and he adores it. low groans rumble in his throat as he feels himself getting closer to his orgasm. “mmphm..harder dollface. y’too soft with me.”
soft? you knew he was fishing a reaction out of you, he always does whether it was in or out of the sheets. but something about now ticked you off, you didn’t know if it was even rational or just jabber’s natural talent of annoying you by breathing the wrong way. but, he always got what he wanted, he always does, this time with your hand around his throat and your nails digging painful crescents into his skin. a half gasp punched out of his throat, then you felt his dick twitch. “shiiit..fuck, ‘m bouta cum baby..” he moaned out the best he could, lavender irises rolling to the back of his head as a sick grin stretched across his lips.
Yeah, he’s gonna be on my mind for a HOT minute. (Y’all he absolutely screams harem pants, they’re so his style. Shout out to the one who pointed it out.)
the chain.. the chain...the chain....FUCK! I'm supposed to be writing and everytime i procrastinate shit like this pops up and now i'm writing one shots..HIS HANDSSSS? His fingers?? Prop me up in his lap while he lays smacks hard enough to make me bleedddd!!!!! I wanna fight him so bad..he makes me so fucking mad and I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN RILE ME UP AND HANDLE THE CONSEQUENCESSS
fuck it..ya'll getting another oneshot..I'll post the story right after I swear...I just need Stalker!jabber
I'm very angry that fascism is possible in a world after the invention of the internet. communication has never been easier and hating fascists is supposed to be a commonly accepted and widespread belief. this is extremely frustrating
can we appreciate ghostgaz / gazghost more . Like I barely see it and it's possible one of my favorite like.
Heres this sassy little bitch who overanalyzing everything and enjoys being in charge and know what's going on. Here's this man 8 years older than him that can only laugh at his sass, who finds it endearing and adorable the things he does.
When someone doesn't listen to gaz, and he's a sergeant he should. Ghost is there watching and is now directly behind Gaz eyeing the privates who aren't listening to their sergeant. They finally listen to gaz and he's like! Yay! Wonderful.
Ghost doesn't scare Gaz, not the way that Soap or Price scare him. He feels amazed that theres someone who's more calculating than him, someone who pays attention to the details like him, someone who just knows things about people without knowing them. And oh my god he loves it.
They would probably be talking in the barracks, or on leave at a bar, etc. It would just be talking about gossip and drama. It would eventually get to flirting, "what's my favorite colour?" "Did you know that I enjoy when you.." etc etc etc. It's just two little freaks flirting beyond them. Price and Soap are just staring, they expect it honestly. You have the two most subtle flirtatious members of the team together.
It would lead to one thing or another. There would probably be them GAY and kissing over one too many drinks. And one too many photos were taken as blackmail on Soap's phone.
Underbed monster! Simon who was slightly startled by such sudden change in your aura - once sugary sweet and syrupy turned into bitter and pungent, causing creature to sputter and hiss begrudgingly at the taste, his ears (or whatever that was that he had) straining to hear any words coming from you that could explain this drastic shift in your emotions.
Underbed monster! Simon who listened attentively as you spoke on the phone with your best friend, choking on your own tears and sobs as you told them how you breakup with your now ex boyfriend, about the ugly fight you had, how he called you numerous names, shattering your heart in million pieces just with his cruel words.
Underbed monster! Simon who felt rage simmering somewhere deep within him. How dare that pathetic scumbag treat you like that!? Yes, Ghost did torture you with horrible nightmares quite a few dozens times, but you were his human, his to scare, his to taunt, his to fuck, no one else’s. He felt possessive and angry, he wanted to soothe your poor little heart, to make all the pain go away so you could feed him more and more of that honey-like energy that your pleasure exuded.
Underbed monster! Simon who finally decided to take matters into his own hands after keeping a close eye on you when your state didn’t seem to get any better. Ghost sneaked out some of the sweets from kitchen to your bedroom so you had something to munch on, making you confused as to how those candies seemed to magically appear on your bedside. Simon tried keeping the house tidy and clean for you in hopes that it’ll make you get better soon, he even did your laundry once, causing you to freak out at the sight of your clothes, freshly washed and still damp, hanging off the rope to dry out.
Underbed monster! Simon couldn’t be more happier, watching your attention finally shift from your shithead ex to him. Simon was purposefully lurking right in the corner of your vision, making his presence in the house way more obvious. He watched with fierce amusement as you grabbed the sharpest knife from the kitchen, inspecting every nook and cranny of the house, not finding any signs of intrusion or anything that could’ve given a clue about another person’s presence, scrunching up your pretty eyebrows in confusion.
Underbed monster! Simon who fully revealed himself for the first time in your dream, standing in his full glory in front of small scared you, your breathing quickening in your sleep as you inspected his tall dark form, two red eyes glaring down at you from above. You felt paralysed as you watched this creature raise its smokey limb that slightly resembled human arm, cold tentacle fingers brushing your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear affectionately. And all of the sudden all fear and anxiety vanished, leaving place for curiosity and amazement as you studied monster’s features closer, not feeling threatened nor endangered by him. Slowly its mouth opened - even blacker that the rest of him, his voice clear and lucid, ringing right inside of your head “Wake up”
Your eyes snapped open - you were laying in your bed still, crumpled sheets dug into your back unpleasantly but you couldn’t care less as you stared straight into those crimson orbs, cold tentacles slithering up and down your sides, wrapping tighter around your limbs, immobilising you completely. Underbed monster! Simon just purred audibly at your obedience and lack of resistance, branching a few more extremities to slip under the hem of your pyjama top and wrap around your nipples, tugging and tweaking on them softly.
Underbed monster! Simon who growled satisfactorily at the small wet patch that started forming on your panties, slowly rubbing your sweet pussy while applying more and more pressure to his touch, watching you writhe and whine underneath him, begging for more.
Underbed monster! Simon who purred as he slipped a thick tentacle past the hem of your panties, stuffing your fluttering cunny so full of himself, finally that rich taste of your pleasure simmered right through him, filling his ghastly body with strength and energy he lacked all this time you were depressed. Newfound strength just nagged him into fucking you faster and harder, twisting out your nipples and rubbing your clit rapidly, all while forcing his thick tentacles in and out of your leaking cunt, making you scream and tremble in his inescapable grasp as fourth orgasm rippled through your weakened body, pure pleasure surging through your veins, hogging up your mind and making you incapable of thinking.
Underbed monster! Simon who only let you go when first sun rays peaked in through bedroom’s window, leaving you a fucked-out yet blissful mess, pinching you on your cheek affectionately before slipping under your mattress, curling up like a huge lazy cat and falling asleep, full of your delicious pleasure.
And even hours later as you peeked under your bed you could see a huge black spot there, still and unmoving; and if you listened closely enough you could hear your underbed monster purr softly in its sleep, happy and properly nourished.
That’s quite a pet that you have now, eh?
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, don’t be shy to give writers some love! Requests are open, so send me some stuff<3
• summary - you've always had a crush on your best friends older brother. looks like he has a crush on you too lol.
• rating - 18+
• wordcount - 4.7k
• warnings - fem!reader, best friend's older brother!gaz, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, alcohol consumption, you smoke weed with gaz, you fuck while you're high too, strong language
ok ok there are not enough fanfics of gaz on this bloody app and enough is enough i say. proud gaz whore right here 🙏 gaz nation rise up !!! also i LOVE timbaland like early 2000s music has no right to slap that hard.
this wasn't requested at all lol but hey maybe it's just a 1k special. lots of luv x
the hat stays on while we fucking— yoooo who said that that's crazy ????
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
You had always had this stupid crush on your best friend's older brother.
How could you not? Just look at him.
He was nice, funny, a bit shy but yet still such a social butterfly. He was ridiculously attractive, too, obviously. Pretty dark eyes, a perfect smile and— good lord— abs that you could see whenever he wore that tight compression shirt during his morning workouts.
Spending the night at your best friend's house was always so much fun. Yeah, your friend was the best and you always had such a good time with her. But, if you woke up at just the right time and, conveniently, went downstairs to get a glass of water, you'd run into Gaz. Compression shirt on, dampened slightly with sweat, as he stirred up his protein shake at the kitchen counter.
You'd feign innocence. Hi Gaz, what brings you up at this hour? Real subtle, you thought, considering you'd found yourself in this exact situation four times. But hey, you can't blame yourself. He just looked... so good.
So, for the longest time, it was always a stupid crush. Nothing more than that.
Until it was more than that.
The ball began to roll the day he returned home from deployment a month or so ago.
You were lounging on the couch, your best friend in the shower, when he stumbled into the house, looking absolutely beat. He saw you first as he closed the front door.
"Hey." He smiled.
"Hey, Gaz," you smiled back. "Welcome back."
"Thanks," he laughed breathlessly. "I'm so happy to be home."
He looked around the quiet, empty house. You could only just hear the shower upstairs running. Gaz exhaled through a laugh, shaking his head slowly.
"So much for a welcome committee." He joked.
"Hah, were you expecting one?" You asked, smiling.
He shrugged. "I mean, it would've been nice. I've been gone for three and a half weeks, you know, risking my life and all."
"Oh, I'm sorry, thank you for your service," you mock saluted from the couch, much to his amusement. He smiled at you, finally dumping his duffel bags in the hallway near the door. You cocked your head at him, jokingly saying: "Would you like me to be your welcome home committee?"
He faked appreciation, placing a hand to his chest and pouting. "I would be honoured. Thank you."
"Oh my god." You rolled your eyes, and the both of you laughed while you got off the couch.
You crossed the room, clearing your throat as you stretched your arms wide. "Sergeant Garrick! It's so great to have you home!"
He laughed again, smile stretching wider as he wrapped his arms around your middle, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He leaned back, your feet leaving the ground and making you release a noise of surprise. After hugging you tight, he gently lowered you back to the floor.
"Thank you." He smiled.
You pat his chest. "Of course. Thank you for your service."
He still had his hands on your waist when you said that.
And that was only the beginning.
The ball was rolling slowly, but steadily. A few weeks later, after days of joking with one another— flirting? you weren't sure— and throwing banter back and forth, it happened again. A moment between you two that contributed to the shift in your dynamic.
He stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, drunk as fuck. You and your friend had been up all night watching movies, and she had only just fallen asleep upstairs. You told her you were going to get a drink of water so, as Gaz staggered into the house, you were at the kitchen sink, a half-drunk glass of water in your hand.
He was tripping over his feet, muttering something, laughing to himself. You watched him silently, as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He dropped to his knees, failing to crawl up them. He gave up, and slouched against the bannister.
"Rough night?" You asked him, placing the cup in the sink.
"Mhm," he muttered, pulling himself away from the stairs and into the kitchen. "V-very rough."
He sank onto one of the barstools, swaying slightly.
You shook your head at him, grabbing a fresh glass and filling it with water. You slid it to him, and he happily accepted.
"Thanks," He slurred, and chugged the whole glass. He pushed the empty glass back towards you. "More?"
You gave him a look as you took the glass. It was meant to be a “slow down” kind of look, but he clearly took it a different way.
"More, please, love." He said, resting his head on his arms, watching you with hooded eyes as you refilled his glass.
"Drink this one slowly," you said, giving it to him. He did, sipping at the water as you watched. "Special occasion, was it?"
He swallowed his mouthful. "Not really, but Soap's in town. He... he can drink me under the t-table, Jesus Christ. He had like... f-five hundred more pints than... than me and he walked outta there fine."
You laughed quietly. "Your fault for taking him on."
He hummed, finishing his glass. When he passed it back to you, he gave you a lazy smile. "Thanks, love."
"Sure." You said calmly. Your stomach was doing fucking backflips.
He hummed again, watching you place the glass in the sink. When you turned back around, his eyes dropped for just a moment. Not enough to make you uncomfortable, but long enough to make you say—
"My eyes are up here, Garrick."
His lips quirked further, smirk unfaltering. "I like your pyjamas."
You rolled your eyes. Short shorts, a loose fitting tee that you have no idea where it came from, fuzzy slippers.
"Whatever." You scoffed.
"No, I do," he said, still smiling. "That's my shirt."
Your body went hot.
"Seriously?"
"Mhm..." He chewed at his bottom lip.
Your best friend had loaned it to you. That bitch—
"I'm so sorry. Do you want it back?"
"Oh my god, no, don't even worry," he sounded sincere for just a moment, before: "It suits you better, anyway."
Moments like these continued to happen.
And eventually, the ball rolled to it's final destination: today, your best friends birthday.
She was pretty popular, considering she did a whole bunch of extra-curricular activities and made friends with quite literally everyone she met. So her house was packed full of people, most of whom you knew, drinking and dancing to music that would most likely cause a noise complaint further into the night.
You had had a fair bit to drink. Not enough to be absolutely pissed, but enough to have your body buzzing and your eyelids fluttering if you sat down for a bit too long. Your best friend, on the other hand, was drunk as hell. You spent half the night making sure she didn't somehow end up on the roof like last year. But that was a whole other story.
Later into the night, your friend had wandered off— safely, thank god— to join a game of beer pong in the dining room. You needed some fresh air, so you made your way onto the front porch, devoid of any people.
You could still hear the people and music pulsing together inside, and you took a deep breath, cool air filling your lungs. You felt yourself sobering up as the chilled air hit your bare skin. Probably for the best, anyway.
"Had enough, eh?"
You recognised the voice. The voice you were weirdly attracted too. Was it weird to be attracted to a voice? Probably. Maybe you were over thinking—
Gaz sat down beside you on the front step, your knees brushing.
"Yeah, just wanted to chill for a bit." You told him, the warmth of his body beside yours really making the alcohol clear out of your head.
"Fair enough," he said. "Birthday girl's had a bit to drink, hasn't she?"
You bit out a laugh. "You have no idea. I don't think I've seen her touch anything other than alcohol all night. She's gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."
"Her fault." He said, humour in his words.
He looked over at you, taking in your face for a second. You met his eyes, head cocked slightly as he smiled at you.
"What?" You smiled.
"You smoke?" He asked.
You shrugged. "Depends."
Gaz laughed. "Depends on what?"
"Depends who I smoke with," you replied. "By myself? Sure. With your sister? Sure."
"What about with me?" Gaz asked, patting his jacket pocket.
"Sure." You said simply, the two of you fighting smiles.
•º•
A little while later, you were sitting on Gaz's bed, right beside the semi-open window. You'd never been inside his room before, so you were intent on playing it cool. It was much how you expected it to be. Simple, but him. Photos from his high school days, from his days in the military. A punching bag in the corner— which, on any other day, would have been a red flag if it wasn't Gaz we were talking about here.
He passed you the joint, fingers brushing yours. He was slouched against the bed, too, head resting on the windowsill, peering out the window. Wisps of smoke furled from his lips, disappearing into the night.
You giggled at the sight before inhaling, taking a couple of hits before rolling the joint mindlessly between your fingers. Your slightly hooded eyes watched Gaz and the way his own eyes darted across the sky, looking at the stars. Then, as you put your lips around the tip of the blunt again, his eyes fell on you.
"You good?" He asked, sitting up as you passed the joint to him.
You smiled at him. "Mhm."
The music was loud downstairs. You could feel the vibrations coursing through the walls as you leaned your head against it. You had butterflies in your stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation in your brain and your cheeks were beginning to hurt from the strength of your smile.
Gaz took a few lazy hits from the blunt over the span of a couple of minutes. You watched him in silence, chewing at your bottom lip. You watched the way his eyelashes fluttered, how his pupils had expanded in the moonlight, and how he wet his lips with his tongue after every inhale. You now had a second heartbeat deep in your core, and you released a shaky exhale.
"You're so pretty..." You sighed, watching the way he twisted the narrow joint between the knuckles of his index and middle finger.
He hummed, eyes darting across your face. "I think that's supposed to be my line."
You giggled behind your hand, body heating up more than it already was. You shifted against the mattress of his bed, blankets bunching beneath you, smelling of him.
"You think I'm pretty?" You asked in a whisper, reaching over and plucking the blunt from Gaz's fingers. He watched you take a hit, his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth in concentration.
He nodded as the joint tip glowed. He kept nodding, slowly, lazily, until you passed it back to him. You held it out to him, fighting a smile, wiggling it in front of his face, fresh embers flickering.
Instead, he gently grabbed your wrist— as though you were the most fragile being on earth— and pulled you closer to him. You obliged, shuffling along the bed on your knees until they knocked against his own, your silhouettes framed by the moonlight streaming in from the partially opened window.
Still holding your wrist, Gaz lowered his mouth and took a deep hit, eyes locked to yours. Your stomach flipped, brain feeling extra fuzzy and warm as you locked your eyes onto his glossy brown ones. Then, without exhaling, he gently pried the rest of the blunt from your fingers and placed it on the ashtray on the windowsill.
He pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, thighs beneath yours. He placed one hand on the small of your back, the other cupping the side of your head. He guided your face down to his and you parted your lips in a small gasp. When your lips brushed— not quite a kiss— he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, tendrils of ghostly white passing between your mouths. You released a sound, low in your throat, as you felt the smoke swirl, bitter, into your mouth, your eyes fluttering while you struggled to maintain eye contact. Gaz responded to the sound, pulling your hips closer to his own.
You were the first to pull a way a bit. He watched you closely, eyes moving all over your face.
Your core was pulsing, your body was warm.
"Jesus..." Gaz whispered, hand rubbing carefully along the side of your face, along your jaw. "M'gonna... m'gonna kiss you, okay? Is... is that okay?"
It was your turn to nod slowly, wetting your lips.
"Mhm." You hummed, trying to hold a poorly timed giggle at bay.
He exhaled deeply, breath fanning across your face before he leaned in and captured your lips with his own. It was tame, in the beginning. Then, he licked his tongue along the seam of your mouth and you opened for him, letting him explore. You and him both moaned in unison when your tongues connected, warm and solid, tasting both bitter from the weed and sweet from the cheap alcohol. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you closer, tilting you in a way that he could sink his tongue deeper.
The kiss was now the furthest from tame— all tongue, teeth and spit. The wet sounds, combined with his soft whimpering and your low whines, made the kiss much more pornographic than intended. You pressed your hands down his strong shoulders, feeling the muscle, scratching your nails against the cotton of his shirt.
The hand Gaz had on your lower back moved southward, brushing along the curve of your arse and squeezing the flesh there gently. He kneaded it through the material of your skirt while you ground yourself onto his lap.
You tried to pull away from the kiss, but he chased it; eyes still closed, seeking the heat of your mouth. You let him as he whined into your mouth, the hand on your arse moving back to your lower spine.
"Gaz..." you whispered once you finally broke your lips away from his. He blinked up at you, lips wet with your shared saliva, breath coming in shallow pants.
Wordlessly, you reached around and grabbed the hand that he had on your back. You moved it between the two of you, urging him beneath the front of your skirt. His eyes grew wide in excitement, letting you guide his hand to your underwear. He cupped your core, and, for the second time that night, you moaned in unison. You were wet and warm against the skin of his palm, even through the material of your underwear.
"Bloody hell..." He muttered, dipping his fingers past your underwear, dragging them lightly against you. His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to gauge your facial expressions as he made his touch firmer, sliding two fingers through your slicked folds.
Is this okay?, his deep brown eyes asked.
You hummed a moan, your eyes finding his, replying; obviously.
His two fingers languidly sunk into your cunt without resistance, your core slick and dripping, still maintaining a steady heartbeat, which made you squirm in his lap. He sunk his fingers to the knuckle and he let out a low whine before pulling them out and repeating his actions. You keened into him, chest flushed with his, tossing your head back as his fingers began a steady pace.
His thumb crept up your core and pressed against your clit, already puffy and swollen with your arousal. Gaz moved in slow circles, listening to your body, listening to your sounds. Much like your kiss, the sound of his fingers entering your hole were loud, even over the bass of the music. Wet. So fucking wet. You could feel the glide of his fingers, the arousal that leaked into your underwear.
Gaz had his mouth agape, watching raptly as you breathed out whine after whine, face inclined towards his ceiling. He kept you firmly in his lap, having moved a hand down to your hip to keep you steady. His other hand, knuckle deep in your sopping cunt, searched for the spot inside you that'd have you seeing stars.
He found it.
He knew he did when you choked on a gasp, a beautiful moan falling from your kiss-bruised lips. You tilted your head forward to look at him, and you whined a sickly sweet "Gaz" that had his pace increasing and his cock hardening.
"S-so good, Gaz, oh my god..." you whimpered, his fingers hitting that spongey spot within you that caused your tummy to tighten, thighs beginning to quiver against his.
He applied further pressure to your clit as the blunt force of his fingers nudged you closer to climax. He was still looking at you— admiring you— basking in how pretty you looked all for him.
"Cum on my fingers, baby, that's it," Gaz whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. It was gentle, and lasted for less than five seconds, before he was pulling away to suck a hickey onto your neck. "That's it, come on. Know you can do it... know you can, love, come on. Give it to me."
You fucking gave it to him alright.
"Mmm—Gaz—!" You moaned as you hurtled over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard and hot. Your hole clamped around his fingers, making him grunt into your neck as he fucked your through it.
He pulled off of your neck. "That's it, good girl, there you go..."
He sounded equally as fucked as you as he thrusted his fingers into you once more, then retreated. You kissed him, your mouths moving without real intent, just swapping spit with weed-tainted tongues. While you did that, he pushed you backwards onto his bed, shifting you so your head rested on his satin pillow. He crawled over top of you, only breaking the kiss to drag his mouth down your neck.
"More." You whispered to him, a smile creeping along your face as you clamped your legs around his hips.
"Yeah?" Gaz leaned back on his heels. "More?"
"Pleaseeeee." You dragged out, ripping your shirt over your head as impatience bubbled inside you. He laughed when you tossed it across the room, then quickly unclasped your bra, also throwing it away.
Tits exposed, his eyes dropped from your face, jaw slackening.
"My eyes are up here, Garrick." You laughed.
The familiar words struck Gaz across the face. He smiled at you, leaning down without words to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You exhaled a pleasured sigh, holding his head carefully as he kissed and sucked along your left tit, before moving to the other. He rubbed your waist and hips as he did so, fingers skimming the band of your skirt.
Eventually, the pleasure mounting in your core was making you impatient, so you pushed him away with as much strength in your shaky arms as you could. Gaz just chuckled. He flipped your skirt up and slipped your drenched underwear down your legs, untangling them from your ankles and flinging them across the room.
He blew out a breath, catching sight of your cunt, slick folds fucking glistening in the moonlight.
He couldn't resist. He didn't even give you a warning.
He slid his head between your thighs and licked a stripe up your cunt, sucking briefly on your clit before dragging his tongue down your folds and thrusting into your leaking hole. You cried out, hand immediately coming to clasp the back of his head, hips bucking. His nose pressed to your clit as you did that, making you whine deeply. Your thighs fastened firm around his head. He groaned, continuing to fuck his tongue deeper into you.
Your mind was warm and full of Gaz, Gaz, Ga—
He moaned into your cunt, the vibrations making your tummy tighten.
"Fucking hell," he moaned again, and you gasped in return. "So fucking good, baby, holy—"
His tongue cut him off, stuffing back into your cunt, lapping up as much of your arousal as he could with messy slurps that made your cheeks sting with pleasure. You were far too gone to be embarrassed.
His hands gripped your thighs, indenting the soft flesh. He quickly swiped his tongue upwards, circling your clit and skimming his teeth across it.
"Fuck, Gaz," You keened. "M'not gonna last, please—"
"S'okay, love, s'okay, come on," he groaned into your cunt, tongue sliding back into your leaking hole. "Come on, baby, wanna taste more. Let me— f-fuck, baby— let me h-have more."
Your second orgasm, much like the first, hit you like a fucking freight train. As the chorus of whatever song it was downstairs reached it's tempo, you came in his mouth. Your thighs trapped him to your cunt as you rode the continuous waves of pleasure, his tongue solid inside you. You bucked against his face, orgasm simmering, his nose nudging your overstimulated bundle of nerves.
When you finally loosened your hold on him, he placed one last wet kiss to your swollen clit, before literally lunging over your body and slamming his mouth onto yours. Hastily, and with little words exchanged between the pair of you except for moaned curses, Gaz stripped. His clothes meshed with yours on the floor, and soon, the solid weight of his cock was in your hand as you helped guide it to your cunt, your legs parted for him.
He watched you stroke him, notching his cockhead at your dripping entrance with a soft giggle-turned whimper. He smiled, fucked out, as he took your hand and brought it back to your face. He made you lick it, before wrapping it back round his cock and moaning loudly. He used your hand to pump himself, his own fingers large over yours. Pearls of pre rolled from his tip, smearing against your fluttering hole.
His other hand adjusted the way your skirt was still flipped up over your lower tummy. He played with the material of it while you pumped his cock.
"Pretty..." he remarked, tugging at the soft fabric.
"Mmm... wore it for you." You drawled, nudging his sensitive tip through your slick folds.
He whined a fuck. "Did you now?"
"Mhm..."
He removed your hand from his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He wrapped his own hand around the base, languidly pushing the tip to your cunt. He slowly pushed in, and you whined, wrapping your arms around him and dragging your nails down his back. He moaned through gritted teeth as you sucked him in. His hips soon came flush to yours as he bottomed out with a deep utter of your name.
"C-can't believe I didn't... fucking hell... didn't do this sooner," he pulled out of you, slowly pushing back in. "Waited s-so long for this pretty cunt. So... so long."
He was taking his time fucking his cock into you. Your gummy walls tightened around him, your arousal easing the glide. He huffed each time the head of his cock reached far enough inside you that a small bulge appeared in the soft mound of you lower tummy.
"You feel so good, oh my god—" He whimpered.
"Please, Gaz, need more—" You whined. "Please, faster—"
His pace increased instantly. It wasn't the most graceful and rhythmic— possibly a factor of weed and alcohol, making you fight off a grin— but it was fucking good. He nailed that spot inside you with each thrust. You moaned his name, over and over, throat beginning to become sore. He fucked you to the drumming of the music downstairs, bed creaking. The room smelt of weed, sex, you and him. You could get high off that combination alone.
He was breathing hard, whimpering into your neck as he sucked another hickey. Your best friend's older brother. A moan slipped out of your mouth at that thought alone. What were you doing?
Whatever it was, you were fucking loving it.
"So good, Gaz. Feels so good." You told him through a whine, his cock slamming repeatedly into the plug of your womb, balls slapping against the curve of your arse.
He moved away from your neck, focusing now on your pretty face as he fucked you.
"Yeah? Feels good, love?" He asked, snaking a hand away from your hip to toy a finger against your puffy clit.
"S-so good, fuck—!" You almost screamed at the sensation, your nerves on fire.
He rutted into you, again and again, hooded eyes raking down your body with each arch of your back and buck of your hips. He loved how pretty you looked right now. All for him. His imagination these past few weeks had nothing on what he was looking at right now.
"Mmm that's it, good girl," he said lowly as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around him. He pulled all the way out and slammed back in, making you toss your head back and moan. He moaned too, your silk walls clinging too him. So needy. "Want you to cum, please, baby. You can do it. Want you to cum 'round my cock. Come on, give it to me."
Gladly, you came a third time.
"Gaz!" You moaned, pulling him tighter over you as your entire lower body spasmed, legs clamping around his waist and cunt squeezing around his cock. He groaned at the sight of you, at the feel of you, as your climax rocked through you, amplified by the swimming warmth in your brain. Cosy. Safe.
"Gaz..." You finished with a whimper, soft and barely audible. He kissed you, passionate and slow, continuing his pace, removing his finger from your sensitive clit.
"I know, I know, good girl, baby," he whispered, cooing. "Did so good. Almost there... almost there... good— girl—" he punctuated the good girl with heavy thrusts, making your mouth drop open.
It seemed like it had been mere seconds since your third orgasm when your fourth crept into your lower abdomen, coiling tight. You don't think a man has ever made you cum this many times.
You couldn't help it. It was so sudden that you had no time to warn him. You gushed around him, fourth orgasm leaking out of you with each rut of his cock. He groaned, deep and breathy, feeling the slick escaping from your cunt as he pounded into you, his thrusts only just beginning to falter.
"That's a good girl, there you go, feels so fucking good," he rambled. "M'gonna cum, holy fuck, m'gonna cum—"
He sounded so desperate. You kissed him.
He buried his cock to the hilt inside you, hips flushed with yours. As you kissed him, he came, moaning into your mouth. Warmth filled you deep, the sensation making you arch against him. Warm dribbles of his cum slowly seeped out of you as he softened, still buried inside you while his body dropped onto yours, face buried in your neck. He kissed you there as you kissed his forehead.
After a while of just holding each other and listening to the music downstairs, Gaz got up. The joint was basically lying dead in the ashtray, but he still ground away the remnants of live embers. He closed the window.
"You reckon someone heard us?" You asked lazily as he dipped into his bathroom, remerging a few moments later with a cloth.
"Doubt it," he said, dabbing the warm, wet cloth to your core, cleaning you gently. "They're too pissed to even notice we're gone."
He cleaned you, then discarded the cloth. Soon, he was shimmying a pair of his clean boxers up your legs, then grabbing a fresh tee and helping you into it. Then, boxers on, he slipped into bed beside you and pulled the covers up. He placed a kiss to your forehead, cheek, then finally your lips.
"Need anything?" He asked, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone before kissing you softly again.
"Just you," you smiled at him. "All I need is you."
"Perfect," he smiled back. "All I need is you, too."
I fucking LOVE when it’s requited love but they’re both dumbasses!!!!! Yeah they’re both head over heels but they can’t see the other ones heart eyes this trope makes me WILD
Real Talk! @infinatedreamer15 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
