Simon is the largest, most skilled and ruthless warrior of the whole clan—and he's claimed you as his prize after the last successful raid.
He's never found a woman quite like you before.
The women he's laid with before were all lean and strong; wild warriors in their own rights, hardened by the harshness of the North. They'd kept his bed warm, and he'd enjoyed them all, yes, but never longer than a night.
You, though, you are soft in all the right places.
Fat and marbled by a different, more shielded life. Not really a noblewoman, but loved and doted on by your family as their only daughter.
When he finally brings you to his tent late at night, the skin around your neck and wrists are rubbed raw from the rope that'd been bound around them. You're shivering, scared, and still in denial about what happened.
How your life, your family, and everything you hold dear has been so cruelly taken from you in the blink of an eye.
As you kneel on a large direwolf fur rug in the middle of the tent, upheld by mammoth tusks and thick animal hides, the large Wildling brute rests his great axe against one of the bigger tusks before shedding the first layer of his pelt–lined clothing.
And you don't dare look at him, don't dare move, like a newborn fawn seeking cover in the high grass during spring; hoping he'll forget about your presence if you stay still and quiet enough.
But you're trembling so badly, muscles aching from the steady tremors, that you fear you might keel over any second if you don't will your body to obey.
The Wildling groans lowly in relief as the last of his heavy clothes are shed. He rolls his wide, muscular shoulders, takes his skull–bone mask off and stretches his thick neck from left to right to stretch the sore tendons.
He's broad, strong and meaty, taller than the tallest man you've known; covered in battle scars, though some look more like carvings of his or someone else's own making. They give his milky skin an even more skeletal and intimidating appearance.
Naked as the day he was born, without knowing any shame or decency, his large cock sways obscenely between massive thighs; pale as the rest of his body.
Your breath hitches painfully in your throat when he crouches in front of you and brings the tip of a blade up to tilt your chin to his liking. It's almost gentle, how he tries not to nick you—or perhaps he's just playing with his meal before snapping his maw.
And you keep your eyes squeezed shut tightly, face twisted in fear, bottom lip wobbling. A moment of tense silence passes before he slowly exhales through his nose before grunting:
You ought to call them by their call signs only for the duration of the scene.
Gaz ties you up, sometimes it's Ghost, or they do it together. Soap isn't allowed to anymore, because he's impatient and gets distracted by your puffy cunt too easily; spreading your slick around your labia, rubbing your clit, fingerfucking your hole until you're quaking at the edge.
Meanwhile, Price just likes to watch at first.
The gag gets fastened at the back of your head, a red ball; the colour matching the rope. They put a stainless steel plug in your ass, its heart–shaped crystal peeks out between your cheeks.
Your legs get spread, your arms tied to your legs, always behind your back. Clamps on your nipples, connected with a chain. Price puts a blindfold over your eyes, the black silk supple against your skin.
Vulnerable and open.
They're already hard and throbbing once they're done. Naked. Watching each other. Watching you.
Ghost fucks you open for the rest; splitting you on his hefty cock until you take him without whimpering. Until you're slick and relaxed, loosened up nicely. He groans pathetically when he bottoms out for the first time, feeling your cum dribble down his ball sac—and he cums a few good, shallow thrusts after that.
Gaz is next, because he can play nice. His hips roll deep and sensually; a steady, mind–numbing rhythm that has your eyes roll back and your tongue lash behind the gag, urging to loll out like a bitch. He coaches you through several orgasms, tugging on the chain connected to your nipple clamps when you get too whiny.
Soap is too eager, too arrogant. The sight of you, already fucked out and oozing with his boyfriends cum, nearly shatters him. He grabs your shoulders to pin you in place, pants into your neck while your drool rubs off on him, and fucks you like a dog. The shlick, wet sounds and your muffled whimpers are obscene enough to make Ghost spill down Gaz' throat at once. It triggers a Domino effect, and Soap moans like a man–whore when he adds his load to the mess between your thighs.
Price comes last, literally. He smacks Soap's ass, moves him aside as he continues to jerk his fat cock to the debauched sight. Your blindfold comes off and you almost go cross–eyed. His mammoth hands tug on the rope while groping your sore legs, then he drags the flared tip of his through your sopping slit, easing himself into your used cunt.
He fucks you slow and meaningfully; keeping your chin tilted to force eye contact as he ruins you throughly. The orgasm he wrenches from you is all pleasure and pain while your face twists, eyes rolling back momentarily until Price gives you a chiding slap to your cheek. Too hard, but hard enough to make your pussy clench around him.
He presses his lean hips flush against your flesh, making sure he gets as deep as he can when he spills inside you, hot and heavy. His hairy, buff chest heaves before he pulls his softening cock out to tap his tip against you swollen clit teasingly; the smacks loud and sticky in the bedroom.
A wave of praises and kisses follow as they clean and untie you eventually; more aftercare than you could ever wish for as they cradle you against their sweaty chests.
cw: MDNI, smut, tampering with birth control, intention of babytrapping reader, yandere Konig at the end
Masterlist
Kinktober requests
You met him 2 months ago on a sugar daddy site, he was much younger than the majority of the men there which made him stand out. He had a short description about himself saying that he's military and doesn't really have the time to date around so this kind of service would suit him better. His picture was a kind of blurry one, his face not visible, but you could see a nice built that was just your type. Perhaps against your better judgement you agreed to meet up in person, fully prepared for it to be a scam, your friend's number on speed dial in case something happened.
The private booth at the restaurant was really nice, something way out of your budget and at the other end of the table you recognized the built of the man from the picture. Despite his size he seemed out of place, trying to make himself smaller and maybe less threatening. Konig, as he presented himself, was pretty shy, having dificulties with making eye contact and visibly twiching with his fingers under the table. To ease him a little you started talking a bit about yourself, your interests and your hobbies, seeing him listening so intentely and nodding from time to time was pretty endearing. When it was his turn to talk he told you a bit about working in military, as a colonel he added quite proudly, obviously not giving too many details, but being a little more relaxed at this point in the conversation.
You're glad when he offers to pay for dinner because the only thing you could have afforded there was the glass of water and accept his offer to drive you home. When the car stops outside the apartment complex he mumbles something under his breath about this neighbourhood not being safe, you just shrug your shoulders, the rent bleeds you dry anyway.
The next day instead of a phone call you get a full-on contract with all the terms and conditions of this arrangement. He really didn’t waste any time. His conditions about moving somewhere else and offering to cover all your living expenses besides giving you an allowance right from the begining takes you by surprise, but the contract seems legit and everything seems too good to pass so you sign it the same day.
Now you weren't expecting that new place to be his home, but given the size of it and the fact that he would be gone on deployment more often than not, that left the house pretty much to yourself so there were no complaints about that. And life gets pretty good after that, living without worrying how you'll survive from month to month and getting fucked to next week everytime your "boyfriend" as he insisted you call him comes from a deployment. If he's gonna pay you to play house, then that's fine with you.
Learning his moods and quirks comes with the job and if sometimes you intentionally come downstairs wearing his way too big shirt and riding him on the living room couch asking if it would be ok to buy that thing you saw yesterday in the shop window, who's to say you don't find it the very next day wrapped prettily in a gift box. Of course you don't need his permision to buy anything, but you saw the way it gets him going when you ask him, perhaps he likes to feel in control and maybe you'll indulge him from time to time, that's when he's most generous too.
His lenght pushes impatiently at your entrance, the tip an angry red and beads of precum smearing against your inner thigh. It's probably your fault, teasing him the entire car ride, sulking a little because he didn’t want to get you shopping this afternoon. Konig's fingers are slick with your juices, having worked opening you up just a few minutes ago. He pushes in slowly, brows pinching from the effort to not finish too fast, the vein on his cock dragging along your walls that are clamping him almost painfully. Konig tries to hold himself back from just pushing in and splitting you open, although he can't deny the way he likes how docile you get when he's inside you.
When he finally manages to push it all the way in, the sight of the bulge on your lower abdomen almost makes him finish on the spot. After that he gets a little mean, cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears with a finger, his hips pushing in and out at a fast pace while heavy balls are slapping against you. A palm pushes against the bulge where he is, asking if you feel him in your tummy, laughing at the way you're barely able to nod, already too lost in your own pleasure.
It doesn't take much longer for him to finish, a warm feeling inside you and you swear the bulge swells a little. Sticky cum leaks from between your legs and he pushes it back in with a finger, mumbling about not wasting a drop. When he pushes said finger in your mouth asking you to clean it up, you happily oblige. Exhausted cuddling against his chest, you fall asleep almost immediately. He smiles caressing your back wondering how much longer it would take to get you pregnant, it's been already a month since he changed your pills to placebos. He just wants to make sure you're not gonna leave him, don't worry darling he'll take care of you.
chris sturniolo x reader, dry humping, degrading, cumming in pants, no piv, praise kink
wc… 377
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chris could feel it; so close yet so far away. the heat of your clothed pussy pressed against his denim clad dick made him hard as a rock.
he knew you could feel his arousal, poking into you, but you just kept clicking away on the computer. he tried to hide his grunts, burying his face in your shoulder, but it was nearly impossible not to hear the boy.
the two of you were playing dress to impress, your idea. you mindlessly clicked on virtual clothes, turning back every now and then to see if chris liked what you had on. he just gave you a stiff nod or a blank impression, not trusting his voice.
chris was on edge the whole time, but finally snapped when you won. he was happy, but after you did a little dance, he couldn’t help himself.
grabbing hold of your hips, making sure you couldn’t squirm around, and bucking his needy hips into yours. “chris!” you protest, turning to the boy.
“‘m sorry mama- can’t help myself” he grunts, groaning into your neck as he placed sloppy kisses on it. you let him push into you, making it harder on him when you decide to grind your hips. he lets out a pitiful moan, you just laugh.
“poor boy, so needy.” you grind against his desperately hard member, guiding your hips to the rhythm of his. small broken moans part chris’ lips, his hands pushing your hips harder into his.
“fuck, so fuckin’ perfect” he grunts into your back, slouching down in the seat. you’re stable, chasing your high on his lap.
“fuck i can’t- need to cum” he moans, knowing he would cum in his pants without shame. “already? we’ve barely started honey.” your voice melts into his mush of a brain, heavy breaths warm against your back.
“fuck- i- please, mama” he begs for release. all you can do is shake your head, “go ahead baby” you say, looking back at him to see the pleasure on his face.
“thank you… thank you- thank you!” he moans, you feel warmth beneath you, pooling chris’ boxers. it’s a poignant sight, his eyes contorted and mouth agape from just dry humping him.
Simon didn't like omegas. Even as an alpha. He knew omegas wouldn't be able to handle his aggressiveness. Much less his neglect.
So it was only natural that most his ruts were spent fighting with another alpha over who gets to top. Never had he lost either.
The season was close. And the base had slowed down. Yet he had been too busy to find a willing asshole. (Pun intended)
But as soon as he remembered the favor soap owed him. He knew damn well who his mate was gonna be.
His rut came faster then expected.
He had to hold soap down most of the time.
"If you don't learn how to act pup, I swear-" simon growled and he pressed his arm against soap's throat. Slick sounds filled the room qs simon pressed his knot into soap's mouth, he was pretty sure his jaw was out of place already.
Johnny whined in response. Its not like he could say anything else.
His vision went blurry. Yet simon kept pressing til he finally felt soap's tounge stop working. Whatever. Probably got tired.
Kinktober Masterlist
vi coactus - "under duress"
Simon "Ghost" Riley/TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > SHAME, forced orgasms, bimbo/dumbification
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
“Under duress” — A quick exfil means limited seats in the TAC-V. Simon lets you sit on his lap, but it’s a really bumpy road. When you realize that his thigh is the perfect shape, and that it’s pressing against your most sensitive spot, there’s not much you can do to stop yourself. Might as well enjoy the ride.
Warnings: SHAME! EMBARRASSMENT! SHAME!!!!, mean teasing, slut shaming, it's not non-con but no one asks for permission; this truck is not a safe-space.
No one said a word. Once the noise of the petrol explosion and the machine guns faded from your ears, all that you could hear was the rattle and rumble of the engine of the TAC-V. The mission had been successful, but barely. You’d secured the package, but it had cost you the chopper exfil that you’d been desperately counting on. What was a quick twenty minute flight was now an eight hour drive through the bumpiest mountain road known to man, and you were sitting on Ghost’s lap for the entire trip.
The TAC-V sat two in front and three in back, so with Price and Gaz up in the driver and passenger seats, you should have been able to fit in the rear with Ghost and Soap. But, the care package was taking up your spot. As the smallest member of the squad, you were relegated to lap-status, much to your audible dismay.
“Shut your mouth and get in the truck, Corporal!” Price had shouted, spraying cover fire over the hood of the vehicle.
So, that’s where you found yourself. Mouth shut. Seat secured.
There was only one problem. Ghost’s thighs were enormous. He never skipped leg day, and when you tried to sit against his hips to distribute your weight, his gear vest was in the way. So, he’d shifted you over onto his right thigh, forcing you to straddle him, and now you could feel… everything.
Every time Price hit another bump – which was once or twice every few seconds at this point – Ghost’s rock-solid quad muscle would jerk up into your pussy, shaking your most sensitive bits. It was savage, but it was making your body respond in ways that you did not appreciate. And now, you were in the middle of fighting off the most embarrassing orgasm of your life.
You could feel how wet you were through the canvas pants you were wearing. Your panties were soaked in the first hundred kilometers, so they were useless against your slick pleasure. Soon, Ghost would be able to feel the warm stain of your cunt imprinting itself on his own trousers, and there was nothing you could do about it.
You had tried to shift away in the beginning of this trip, rotating your hips back and forth, trying to search for a less-shameful angle, but he had grumbled,
“Sit still, love. Tha’s enough squirmin’ around.”
His hand had reached out to secure your hip, pulling you down into a deep seated position, crushing your soft lips against his thigh and spreading them apart unknowingly.
You’d managed to suffer in pure silence so far, but that was becoming more and more challenging as the ride got rougher. The desire to roll your hips against him to take the edge off of the blinding friction you were experiencing was mind-numbing. You were sweaty from battle and now you were sweaty from nerve-racking lust, and there was no escape. You still had hundreds of kilometers to go, and you didn’t know what you were going to do.
Your body knew exactly what it was going to do, though. It was going to come whether you wanted to or not.
“You alright, lass? Car sick?” Johnny asked, peering over at you as your head rested against the driver’s headrest in front of you.
“Need a break, babes?” Gaz turned in his seat to check on you.
“No can do,” Price shook his head and peered at you in the rearview mirror, “Still in the red zone. We can’t stop here and expect to make it out without drawing unwanted attention.”
“Here,” Gaz reached back and unclipped your vest, “At least take this off so you can catch a breath.”
You let him slip the vest off your shoulders and stuff it in the footwell on the floor in front of him. He passed you his canteen, and you tried to open it with trembling hands.
“She’s not fuckin’ sick,” Ghost hissed, grabbing the canteen and opening it for you before lifting it to your lips so you could drink.
The rest of the truck-full of men waited to hear the rest of Ghost’s explanation. You felt heat rush to your cheeks in painful humiliation as you waited for him to reveal your predicament. You knew, now, that he could feel you. You had thought you’d gotten away with it so far, but it was too obvious. He could feel the wet, sticky patch on his quad growing with every tremulous shake of the truck, and he knew what was happening to you. You could almost hear the jeering smile on his lips when he told them,
“She needs a quick wank, innit that right, Corporal?”
You tried to keep your eyes trained on the floor, but you had to see what their faces looked like. You lifted your gaze to meet Price’s bright blue eyes in the mirror, the evidence of Ghost’s truth written all over your expression.
The silence was broken up only by the road noise. No one spoke and no one breathed. You looked to Gaz and saw his mouth open in shock, curling at the edge of his lip with a boyish glee. Soap’s brow was furrowed in disbelief,
“S’that true, bonnie?”
Ghost didn’t even give you a chance to answer him. He shoved his gloved hand under your crotch as if to feel the evidence on his hand that he was sensing on his thigh, chuckling at your sorry predicament,
“Bumpy road, been wet and warm for almost an hour. Gonna have myself a pretty little pussy stain by the time we get to base. And if I give her somethin’ to work against…”
Your lieutenant curled his fingers that he had shoved underneath you, finding your swollen clit with a surprising ease. As if he’d pushed a button, you let out an obvious moan. You cut it short, unable to hold it back from crawling out of your throat, but the damage was done.
Silence again, and then Gaz’s low voice,
“Holy fuck.”
Ghost removed his hand and settled back in his seat, keeping his grip on your hips with a steadfast strength. He was looking at you in the mirror along with Price who kept glancing up from the road. The message in Ghost’s eyes was a clear challenge; he wasn’t going to give you any more relief, and if you wanted to come on him, you’d need to figure it out yourself.
The urge to hump his solid thigh was overwhelming, and now that the cat was out of the bag, you thought it wouldn’t be possible for you to be any more ashamed, so you started to hump your pussy against him, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly… but, Ghost couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“See? Needy thing’s grindin’ on me. Can’t help yourself, huh, love?”
You shook your head, looking to Price for some sort of rescue, but what could he do? Your captain was driving as fast as he could out of enemy territory, and you were stuck in place, tumbling into an orgasm and suffering the pain of embarrassment in front of your whole squad.
You moaned, trying to hold your breath, but your whole body shook as you came. Your hole was so wet and burning hot, and you could feel yourself gush as you clenched your muscles around nothing, wishing you had something… someone… inside of you.
“There she is… good girl,” Ghost teased you, rubbing your back as you shuddered above him, rolling in your high.
“Did she just…” Soap gaped.
You looked up at him, and even though your eyes begged for pity, you received none from him. He met you with a filthy grin,
“Come over here with me, lass. I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ sit on.”
He reached for your arm, attempting to drag you over the care package, but Ghost jerked his hand away and wrapped his arm around your belly, forcing you to lean back against him, the tools in his vest digging into your flesh,
“She’s fine where she is, Sergeant. Aren’t ya, sweetheart?”
You felt hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and you squeezed them shut, whispering,
“I’m s-sorry…”
“Shh, love. Nothin’ to be sorry for. Can’t be fuckin’ helped. C’mon,” he snarled in your ear, his mask smelling like his menthols and sweat, “Beg me to help you. Beg for my fingers, princess.”
“Simon,” Price warned, watching your degradation unfold behind him.
“Eyes on the bloody road, Cap,” Ghost chuckled, “Bumpy enough back here as it is.”
Gaz hadn’t stopped staring, and you watched in horror as he palmed his hard length over the rough denim of his jeans.
You felt yourself building to another crescendo, the waves of your first orgasm swelling to threaten a second, easier now that you’d let down so much silky come, allowing your pussy to slip that much faster over Simon’s huge thigh.
“Beg me, baby,” Ghost growled in your ear, “Beg me to fuckin’ touch you right here where they can all watch me make you come.”
“No…” You gasped, “I can’t… I’m not…”
“Not what? Not a dumb little slut? Oh, sweetheart. Yes, you are. You’re so fuckin’ wet it looks like you pissed yourself. I bet those pretty knickers are fuckin’ ruined, aren’t they?”
He grabbed you by the chin roughly, startling you, making your core clench tight, turned on by his cruel aggression as he almost shouted in your ear,
“Aren’t they? Tell the fuckin’ truth. Tell it to him,” Ghost’s eyes turned toward the rear view mirror and you looked up at Price, pleading with him for forgiveness in your tone. You mumbled,
“My panties… are…”
“He can’t hear you, baby.” Ghost held your face, forcing you to look at his captain in the eyes through the reflective glass.
“My panties are ruined, sir.”
“Is that so, Corporal?” Price asked in a low droll, and you saw him readjust himself in his pants before putting both fists back on the steering wheel, gripping it so tight that his knuckles turned as white as bone.
“Better see for myself, yeah?” Ghost chuckled, unbuttoning your trousers and yanking down the fly.
He reached inside and grabbed the fabric roughly in his hand and, with a strength that shocked you, he tore them right off of your body with a loud rip, breaking the elastic at the seam and slipping the scrap from under your lips and ass. He held it up for the entire truck to see, showing them how the gray cotton was stained dark from your wetness, how they gleamed in the light of the setting desert sun.
Soap reached out and snatched them from his hand, and Ghost laughed out loud, watching Johnny shove them to his nose and moan out a breath of satisfaction.
“Go on, then,” Ghost turned his attention back on you, “Beg me for it. I wanna hear you say please, sir. You got that, Corporal?”
He snaked his hand back down the front of your belly, barely touching your furry mons, resting his gloved finger just above the hood of your clit, touching you with a light, teasing pressure.
You could feel the rough canvas against your soft pussy now, and the seam was giving you something to grind against, but it was nothing like the feel of a strong finger. You chased another orgasm, but it was just out of reach. You were humping him lewdly, at this point, rocking your hips back and forth with abandon, unable to stop yourself from chasing your second, hard burst of pleasure.
You bit your lip, struggling with all your might, but you were failing to surge over that exaltant peak. You needed his help, but you didn’t want to beg for it. You couldn’t. You were too dismayed at your fallen state.
You looked at Gaz, hoping he could talk some sense into your lieutenant, but he was jerking himself off with a hand down his pants, watching you through hooded eyes. You turned your gaze to Soap who had your ripped panties in his hand and was using them to wet his own heavy cock, smearing your juices all over his ruddy head.
Ghost’s grip tightened on your jaw, and he turned your head toward his passenger window, stopping you from looking at the other men,
“They can’t help you, love. Just me. Now, use your fuckin’ words.”
“Please… touch me,” your voice was barely a whisper.
“Please, what?” He bit back.
“Please touch me, sir,” you whined, sick to your stomach at your own weakness.
“Tha’s a good girl,” he smiled.
He moved his fingers lower, shoving two of them between your lips, applying firm pressure to your clit. He didn’t even need to rub you. Your pussy started to come the moment it had his relief, and you cried out like a paid whore, keening into the hollow cab, rolling your hips against him, chasing your crashing orgasm.
Then, he started to move his hand frantically, rubbing you back and forth, dragging out your bursting come even further than you thought was possible, turning one orgasm into two, back to back, a painful overstimulation, enough to make your body convulse from his effort.
“No, no… oh, fuck!” You screamed, trying to close your legs but his thigh was in the way, and all you could do was ride him.
“Yeah, tha’s it, love. Give it to me. Come on me, you filthy fuckin’ slag. Let ‘em hear what I’m doin’ to this needy cunt.”
“Mmngh! Please… Ghost, please, oh, fuck…”
“Listen to that sound, lads,” he grunted, commenting on the wet, milking noises your cunt was making under his hand, “Runnin’ like a hot tap.”
“Hurry up, LT,” Soap barked, pulling on his cock with your panties wrapped around the hard shaft like he was furious with it, “I’ll only be so patient.”
Ghost shook his head,
“Tsch, tsch, alright, Johnny. If you insist. C’mon, baby. Keep those legs spread f’me like a good girl, yeah?”
You felt him ruck down the back of your pants and shove them onto your legs, exposing your ass to the whole truck. Then, you felt the tell-tale drag of his cockhead over your folds, and before you could even think to protest, he was shoving himself inside of you, slipping through your slick without much resistance, your wet come helping guide his length all the way up to your womb.
Once he had whet his prick down to its root in you, he used both hands to lift your hips and slam them back down, using you like a cocksleeve. He was so thick, but your body was primed and ready to take him, and you found yourself without words, only able to moan and whine as he filled you up.
Gaz reached over, leaning out of his seat to grab your face, turning you towards him so that he could kiss you. You couldn’t even kiss him back, you were so mindless, and he spent most of his time licking your lips and sucking on your tongue as you whimpered for Ghost’s heavy dick, your body jerking up and down as he slammed you onto his steel-hard length repeatedly.
“Does he feel good, babes?” Gaz asked you, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and down your throat, making you choke on him until you started to instinctively suck and swallow against him, “Tha’s it. Pretty thing just needed somethin’ in her mouth, didn’t she?”
Every time you choked from Gaz’s hand in your throat, you clenched around Ghost’s cock, and he begged his sergeant for more,
“Choke her again, Garrick. Makes her so fuckin’ tight.”
Gaz laughed, full of mischief, and reached up with his other hand to pinch your nose. Then, inside of your mouth, he pressed his fingers in a downward motion over and over and over, making it feel like he was fucking your face with a throbbing dick, too big for you to breathe. You gagged, and then, when you tried to take a breath, you gagged again, your whole body spasming, fighting for air. You could only suck in short breaths when you opened your mouth wider, and Gaz held the relief of those moments from you for as long as he could.
Finally, Ghost wrapped both of his hands around your torso and ripped you away from Gaz’s cruel hand, laying you against his chest and fucking his cock up into you from below, creating loud, pornographic slapping sounds that filled the truck.
“Fuck!” Ghost groaned, “Gonna make me come, love. Say please, baby. C’mon. You can do it. Say it.”
“Dinnae think she’s still with us, LT. Fucked her brains right out of her head,” Soap chuckled.
“She can do it,” Ghost insisted, “C’mon, sweetheart. You’re not gettin’ my come until I hear you beg for it.”
You looked at his eyes in the mirror again, not recognizing yourself in such a mindless state of indulgence, drowning in pleasure and losing yourself to it. He was looking at you with such an intensity, you wanted to please him. You wanted to follow his orders. You wanted to show him that you could be such a good girl.
“P-please…. Please! Ungh, please, sir… Give me your come. Please, sir… I need it. I need it. I need… mmnff-fuck!”
You felt his cock swelling, throbbing, and bursting with hot, sticky ropes of his cream, buried deep inside of your walls, coating the head of your womb as your pussy squeezed out another orgasm, milking him like a hungry mouth. He pulled out a bit only to ram himself back in, deeper this time, stretching to touch the end of your sheath, aching to plant his seed.
“Fuck, finally,” Soap grunted, reaching over the crate with both hands this time to drag you from Ghost’s lap, “Couldnae wait much longer, LT.”
You felt Ghost’s cock slip from you, spilling his come down your leg, your pants sliding down to your boots as Soap dragged you into his lap.
“There she is,” Gaz smiled, returning to his efforts and shoving his fingers back down your throat, this time shifting them back and forth, massaging your tongue as he fucked you on his hand, “Suck them for me, baby. It’ll be my turn, soon.”
“Better enjoy the easy ride while you can, Corporal,” Price sneered, “You’ve got PT in my quarters as soon as we get back to base. Might take all night.”
As Johnny’s fat dick squeezed into your come-soaked pussy, you wanted to protest. You wanted to make some snide comment back, but your usual biting retorts were unavailable at the moment. You really were blissed out of your mind, and the only thing you could do was fuck and suck like the dumb little slut that you were.
If anyone comments on this OBVIOUSLY TAGGED shame kink fic that it was "too embarrassing to read!! huehueuhe"/"i tried but i couldnt do it. too cringe!", I'm gonna come to your house and shit in your shoes, you coward. Get the fuck off my page.
Based on a request:
I recently saw my husband in the yard working and fuck did he look so sexy. So now I can't help but imagine Ghost as my husband, working in the yard and there's a spontaneous fuck. He's hot and so is this idea
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F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, P-in-V, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, husband!ghost, wife!reader, exhibition?
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A/N: we won't talk about the first time I posted this, got it? great, thanks <3
The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the overgrown garden, highlighting the faded stones of the path winding through it. He looks at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hot, huh? Well, I aim to please," he says with a playful wink, trying to match your lighthearted tone.
He spots the sledgehammer leaning against the shed and picks it up, testing its weight in his hands. Then, with a growl of effort, he swings it at the nearest stone, cracking it neatly in half. Simon grunts with satisfaction, sweat already beading on his brow as he continues down the path, methodically demolishing each stone. His muscles flex with each swing, rippling beneath his shirt.
He pauses after a few minutes, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "This is actually... kind of fun," he admits with a grin. "Cathartic, like you said. Feels good to just let loose and destroy something." He looks at you, his eyes brighter than they were earlier. "Thanks for this. For knowing exactly what I needed, even when I didn't."
He steps closer, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before returning to the path, ready to continue his destructive work. You bite your lip as you keep your eyes on him, “Mm, fucking sexy… wow,” you smile and lean back, god, does he look so sexy. “You keep going until you’ve had enough, handsome face.”
Simon pauses mid-swing, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. A slow, heated grin spreads across his face at your words.
"Oh? Is that so?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave as he sets the sledgehammer aside and stalks towards you."Watching me work up a sweat gets you all hot and bothered, does it?"
He reaches you and leans close, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Maybe I should take a break and give you something else to bite those pretty lips of yours," he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe. His hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, the hard planes of his body.
"Or maybe," he continues, his voice a low rumble. "You want to join me? Help me work off some steam?" He rocks his hips against yours, letting you feel his growing arousal.
"I could put that tongue of yours to good use," he suggests with a wicked grin. "Keep me company while I finish tearing up this path." He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "What do you say, beautiful? Want to get your hands dirty with me?"
“I’m not picking up a sledgehammer, but I’ll happily get my mouth dirty." you wink. Simon's eyes darken with lust at your suggestive words. He grins wolfishly, his hands tightening on your hips.
"Mmm, now that's an offer I can't refuse," he purrs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Get on your knees for me, baby. Let's see how well you can use that pretty mouth of yours."
He guides you down to the ground, his strong hands supporting your back. Once you're kneeling before him, he steps back and starts to unbuckle his belt, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Remember, no biting unless I tell you to," he teases, his eyes locked with yours as he unzips his pants. "Unless you want to earn yourself a punishment later."
He tugs his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, his hard cock springing free. It juts out from his body, thick and throbbing, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, wrapping a hand around himself and giving a slow stroke. "On your knees for me, so eager to please. Such a good girl." He steps closer, his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. "Open wide, baby. Show me what that mouth can do."
“Fuck, you see… this is why I enjoy watching you,” you say before taking his cock into your mouth. You take his hand and place it on the back of your head. You look up and begin to bob your head, your eyes rolling back a bit, gagging but enjoying the thickness of his size.
Simon groans deeply as you take him into your mouth, his head falling back in pleasure. His hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head, holding you in place as you work. "Fuck, Y/N," he grunts, his hips rocking slightly to meet your bobbing motions. "Just like that, baby. Take it deep."
His cock pulses against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth. He's thick and hard, stretching your lips obscenely around his girth. You gag slightly as you force yourself down further, taking him into your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you don't pull away, determined to please him.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained with arousal. "Choke on it. Fuck, you look so good with your lips wrapped around me." He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements. You relax your throat, letting him fuck your face, using your mouth for his pleasure. "Gonna... fuck... I'm gonna cum," he warns, his thrusts becoming erratic."Swallow it all, baby. Every fucking drop."
With a final, guttural moan, he releases, flooding your mouth with his hot seed. You swallow reflexively, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck yes," he gasps, riding out the waves of his orgasm. "Such a good girl, taking it so well."
Finally, he pulls away, letting you catch your breath. You sit back on your heels, looking up at him with a satisfied smile, his cum glistening on your lips. Simon smirks down at you, his eyes hooded with satisfaction. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips up, then reaches down to pull you to your feet.
"Mmm, you're insatiable today," he chuckles, brushing a thumb over your cum-slicked lips. "Not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you like this - so hungry for me." He leans in and captures your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, licking the taste of himself from your tongue. You moan into the kiss, your body pressing eagerly against his.
"Fuck, I need to finish this path," he pants when he finally breaks away. "But first, I think I need a little more motivation." His hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing roughly.
"How about you strip down and bend over one of these garden benches for me?" he suggests, his eyes glinting with wicked promise. "Let me fuck you right here in the yard, where anyone could see what a dirty slut you are for your husband." He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your rear, making you yelp.
"What do you say, baby? Want me to split you open on my cock while you watch me work? I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?" You nod eagerly, "Oh... fuck yes, I want that, I want that so bad," you say with need. What more can a wife say? No? Her husband looks so fucking sexy when he does manual labour and asks to fuck her in their backyard and she is meant to say no? Fuck that shit.
Simon grins wickedly at your eager response. He gives your ass another hard smack before stepping back.
"Strip," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And bend over that bench. I want to see that pretty pussy on display for me."
You waste no time obeying. Hastily shedding your clothes, you position yourself over the garden bench, your legs spread wide. The cool wood against your bare skin makes you shiver with anticipation.
Simon takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your exposed body appreciatively. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, palming himself through his pants. "So perfect, so ready for me. I'm gonna ruin you, Y/N. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name."
He moves behind you, running his hands over your curves possessively. Then, without warning, he drives his cock into you with one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt.
"Yes!" he hisses, gripping your hips tightly. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch." He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the yard, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
"That's it, fucking take it," he growls, one hand coming up to fist in your hair, pulling your head back. "You love this, don't you? Love being used like a cheap whore by your husband." He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Gonna fill this cunt up, pump you full of my cum. Everyone's gonna know who you belong to after this."
You moan, your back arches, “Oh… fuck… ah… ngh~” It's too fucking much but it is so fucking good.
Simon pounds into you harder, spurred on by your desperate moans. His fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises in their wake. "That's it, baby," he pants, his voice strained with impending release. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock like the dirty little slut you are." He reaches around to rub your clit in rough circles, sending you careening over the edge. Your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock as you come undone.
"Fuck, Y/N!" he roars, slamming into you one last time before stilling, his cock pulsing as he fills you with his seed. "Take it, fucking take it all." He collapses against your back, both of you panting heavily in the aftermath. After a moment, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his cum drips down your thighs. "Look at the mess I made," he chuckles, swiping some on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. "Clean up your mess, baby. Taste what I gave you."
As you lick his fingers clean, he tucks himself away and zips up. Then he turns back to the broken path, picking up the sledgehammer once more. "Why don't you go inside and get cleaned up?" he suggests his voice already back to its usual gruff tone. "I'll finish up here and join you in a bit. Maybe we can go for round two in the shower, hm?"
He winks at you over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the debris, swinging the hammer with renewed vigour, his earlier tension seemingly melted away.
