No thoughts just box jellyfish!reader working with the 141, right?
An oddity even amongst hybrids, your particular type of presentation had thousands of singers developing in your skin. Each one loaded with the poison to stop a mans heart. Otherwise, you look completely normal, the perfect weapon to do some real damage on missions.
Of course, this also means you get certain...privileges, on base.
No one dares to bother you, not with the government-mandated patch on your uniform at all times. A large warning symbol indicating harm at contact. Sure, you make sure every inch of your skin is covered, but no one takes a chance.
You spend nearly your entire military career unbothered by people so long as you get the job done.
Until you meet ghost.
Giant of a man, he towers over people in a distinctly hybrid way, though you can't tell what he is. He's a goddamn pain in your side. Doesn't hesitate to grab you, always pushing you to train or work on something. Hissing about improvement.
It's driving you mad.
Your final straw is him standing in the doorway of the gym, refusing to let you leave. He crosses his arms, eyes narrowed down at you "everyone else practiced sparring today, even price."
"Yeah, well find me someone will and I'll be glad to," you hiss, moving to shove him out of the way. "Anyone stupid enough to grapple me on the field will die anyways–"
The air is knocked out of your lungs so fast it makes your mind spin, spine knocking brutally into the floor.
"Not the ones immune to you," Ghost's face is mere inches away. Belatedly, terrifyingly, you realize he took his gloves off and his bare skin is wrapped around your throat without a twitch of pain.
"Wh– what–" you struggle, unable to fight out of the pin ghost put you in.
Ghosts other hand pulls his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth, opened to show off rows and rows of spiny teeth, all the way down his throat. "Leatherback sea turtle. Your venom does nothing to me." He leans closer "I could choke the life out of you and never feel a pinch."
Ghost leaves you lying on the floor, heart racing, gasping for air.
"We start sparring tomorrow. I won't have a liability on my team."
"Fuckin' hell, you're tight, Bonnie." Soap groans, sinking into your hole in one smooth motion.
You whimper around the cock stuffed down your throat. Ghost grunts in response, his hips twitching.
"Easy, Johnny. Poor thing'll end up chokin' on me." Ghost says, slowly fucking into your mouth.
It's all so much.
Soap's cock pounding into you, hitting those perfect spots with each pass.
Every one of Soap's thrusts forcing you further onto Ghost's cock, your nose being pressed against his balls.
You can feel Gaz toying with your nipples. You can tell it's him by the soft flicks.
Nikolai's sucking hickies into your hips and stomach, making you squirm even more on the cocks impaling you.
Ghost cums down your throat with a surprisingly high-pitched groan. He pulls out, wiping his tip on your lips to clean himself off.
"That's it." Ghost grunts, stepping back.
Gaz uses the opportunity to kiss you, practically licking Ghost's cum from your mouth. "Fuck, you taste good."
You whine, feeling Soap flood your hole with his cum. "Ah, oh fuck..."
Once Soap steps back, Nikolai's flipping you onto your front.
"Kyle, you get the front. I want the back, da?" Nikolai says, spreading your ass to watch Soap's cum dribble from your hole.
"Yes, sir." Kyle responds, moving your head to his lap, gripping your hair to push you down on his cock.
Nikolai doesn't warn you before he plunges into you. At least you've been pretty stretched out.
You cry out onto Gaz's cock. He tugs your hair harshly, thrusting up into your throat.
"Got a good mouth, yeah?" Ghost comments.
Gaz moans, "Fuck yeah."
Nikolai fucks into you like he hates you. The grip he has on your hips is bruising. Each thrust jolted you forward, choking you on Gaz's cock.
You come around Nikolai's cock, spasming and gagging. Gaz groans, forcing your head down to his pubic bone. Nikolai's cum joins Soap's.
"Alright, let 'em breathe, son." Price says, his hand on Gaz's shoulder.
Gaz and Nikolai leave you on the mattress, shivering with oversensitity. Price straddles your prone form, ignoring your whiny noises.
"It's okay, lovie. Just gonna make ya cum once more." Price shushes, easily sheathing his cock in your hole.
Price presses his chest right against your back, caging you against the bed. You whimper and sob into the sheets.
"Can't hear ya," Price grumbles, yanking your head back by your hair, "C'mon, moan pretty for us."
High-pitched squeals and moans force their way out of your throat with each thrust. Whenever Price decides you aren't being loud enough, he tugs on your hair, forcing your back into an arch.
You come again, shrieking and soaking the bedsheets. Price groans at the sudden tightness, pulling out to cover your ass in his come.
he hadn't meant to. honestly- he hadn't. your face had been shoved into the sheets- moans muffled, a small patch of drool pooling below you.. and you knew how much he loved eye contact during sex. so of course he would want to see how cock drunk and needy you were!
"let me see you,” he whispered, moving his arm under you to put a hand on your cheek to turn your head towards him.
"jack-"
"I know baby I know."
his arm settles right between your neck and the bed, bracing him and keeping you from hiding your pretty expressions from him.
from there all it takes is a simple flex of his arm and suddenly your face is squished between his bicep and forearm— the sudden squeeze accompanied by jack picking up the pace has you whimpering and moaning pathetically.
"that's it- there you are," he groaned out, hips jerking to grind deeper into you, "knew you'd like this- ah fuck- knew you'd let me do this to you.”
okay... maybe it wasn't so unintentional after all..
pathetic sadistic tboy that is so desperate to see you whine and cry in pain, leave bruises on your shaking thighs, burn marks behind your ears and on your nape, but also so so scared to actually cross a boundary. "is this too much?" "can i hit you harder?" "are you sure i can choke you with my boot?" while he's literally shaking from arousal and anticipation
cw: rough p in v, choking, over stimulation, cock sleeve, smoking
a/n: Sleepy’s first smut post for this fandom. Ovulation is a fucking monster. Only lightly edited because I’m trying to write something once a week come hell or high water and I'm out of time.
Soap loved to have you on his lap, wouldn’t allow his bonnie to lift a single finger while he fucked you into oblivion. This time, you’d told him you were going to take a shower because you felt gross after a work out, but he wanted to make sure you were well and truly dirty before washing off the tangy smelling sweat he loved on you. Pheromones, he claimed. He waited until you’d disrobed, grabbed you around the waist, hauled you out of the bathroom, and shucked off his boxers right before falling back against the couch cushions. He’d let you grind against his dick for a bit, lubing him up with feigned control, before lifting you, lining himself up, and slamming you down just to watch you scream.
“Fuckin’ hell, bonnie,” he grunts, hands gripping your ass with a bruising strength. He uses his hips to toss you up and down his cock, “Ye were gonnae let aw this sweet slick get washed down teh drain? No’ on ma watch.”
Your nails dig into the nape of his neck, fingers twisted in the base of his mohawk as you were used as his own personal fleshlight. One rough hand jumps from your ass to where your bodies are joined together, pushing his fingers in next to his cock in your tight hole to stretch you further. Without breaking pace, he continues bouncing you while sucking his fingers clean. His eyes rolling back with your taste shoves you over the edge.
Your first orgasm is raw and shocking, his name torn from your chest as he fucked you through it with ease. As you come down, your hips go pliant and he drives you towards the next one. If there came a day where he only gave you one orgasm, you’d know he was an imposter sent by the enemy. You didn’t have enough brain power left to do anything but feel his beefy arms lifting you up and sinking you back down over his cock.
“Still nae ready fer a shower,” He grins, mouth sucking marks into your breasts between grunts, glancing down at the creamy ring at the base of his cock, “Gottae get ye real dirty, donnae wan’ ta waste water, aye?”
Sex with Soap was sometimes only twenty minutes, but the man’s ability to pull four orgasms out of you in that time left you wondering why others needed hours to achieve such a simple feat.
Price doesn’t have you on his lap very often, much preferring you on your back where he can hold you in a mating press and work himself into you until you’re fruitlessly trying to push him off of you. Sometimes though, after a hellish day of desk work, he wants to be selfish— deserves to be selfish. So he gets comfortable in his favorite arm chair, lights a cigar, and sits back to watch you bounce yourself on his cock.
And gods did you love to ride him, to take your pleasure just how you liked, alternating between rolls and impaling yourself on his meaty cock. John loved to watch your pleasure, your cute little moans and whines turn him on like no other. The only problem, if you could even call it that, was if you coughed from the smoke, your cunt would clench around him so nicely that he’d decide to come right then and there regardless of if you’d found your own release. You had to alternate between slow even breaths timed against his plumes of smoke to keep yourself from ending things too quickly.
“So greedy…” He murmurs, blowing smoke just above your head, enough to make your eyes water from the acrid heat. Whimpering, you pick up the pace, moving your hands from his chest to behind you, clenched his thighs for support. Your hips roll and bounce over him, moans spilling freely as you find the right angle for yourself and pick up the pace. Every raise of your hips burned your muscles and you were fighting against your own pussy walls sucking him back into your heat. He doesn’t mind the wavering pace, your cunt is his favorite place to be no matter the position. “All I’m doin’ is sittin’ here, but you like usin' me to feel good, don’t you? Come on, lass. Find your pleasure before I do.”
A keen is caught behind your bitten lip, nodding furiously as you work yourself over him. He was thick, stretching you out on every drop and only occasionally hitting your cervix. When a particularly harsh roll of your hips lights up your spine with a zip of pain, your hand slips and you nearly fall backwards off the chair. Price is quick to catch you, hauling you back up with a smirk.
“Careful… if I drop this cigar, I’ll have to start a new one.”
Gaz has his arm banded across the front of your hips, the other hand holding the base of your throat. Your back is to his chest as he pumps himself into you with steady thrusts. “Such a sweet little thing for me, just stay right here, yeah? Lemme take care of this sweet cunt for you.”
“Kyyyle…” You whine, hands pawing at his meaty thighs, but it's no use trying to get away. Once Gaz has you, you’re not going anywhere until he’s decided you’re both done. His cock’s natural curve drags against your walls at the perfect angle in this position and he’s ruthlessly precise about it. His grip tightens around your throat at ythe plea, not breaking the rhythm that has you climbing a familiar peak.
Gaz hushes you with a kiss to your temple, tongue darting out to taste the sweat beading at your hairline. It didn’t matter to him how long it took you to come, because once he’s picked a pace, that’s where you’ll both finish. You got off on his subtle control, the willing bondage of pleasure you gave up to him.
“Gonna come for me, babydoll?” He whispers, nipping your earlobe when your head lolls back against his shoulder with a shudder. He adjusts the arm pinning your hips as your back arches off his chest, “Come on then, squeeze me, babydoll.” His words send you over, a choked cry presses your flexing throat muscles against his palm.
When he feels your slick drip down his thighs, he moves again, slow punching thrusts into your silken walls as you mewl in over stimulation. Always the gentleman, he makes sure to give you exactly what you need before finding his own release. It’s only a few minutes later before he’s biting into the junction of your shoulder and flooding you with his come. Even as his cock softens and more slick drips down your thighs, he rolls you over himself just to hear the broken record of his ruined lover.
Ghost puts you on his lap when you’ve been a brat- bending over to pick things up you could have reached your arm down to get, pouting with a swish of your hips when he tells you to wait until he’s done with work, mentioning this fancy new vibrator your single friend swears by… all this left you sitting on his lap, fully dressed sans panties. He’d unzip his pants enough to free his cock, pull up your skirt around your hips, and impale you on his dick without preamble as he sat at his desk. If you moved, you got a slap to the ass, if you whined, he’d pinch your nipple, but usually if you were quiet and let him finish his work, he’d fuck you into next week.
You were not in the mood to be good today, he’d only gotten back from deployment a day ago but had only fucked you twice! You’d felt an achy emptiness the entire month he was gone and now you only got the occasional slow grind of his cock against your womb when he shifted position.
“Please please please… need more… please, Si…” You whine feverishly, fat tears in your eyes from how long he’s kept you stretched full without release.
“More? My cock isn’t enough for you anymore? Only gone for a month and you’re fucking feral for it.”
Ghost huffs, trying to ignore the smell of arousal permeating the room, seeping under his mask and trapping him in the smell he craved more than air. His gloved hand slips between your bodies, a single finger pressing rough circles into your clit. When you tried to roll against the friction he pulled his hand back, “Move and you lose it.”
Your lip pouts out in frustration and need, but you nod, biting your lip and focusing on staying still. At least this way, you’d finally be able to come. His finger brings you to the edge quickly, your whole body clenching around his cock like it had been weeks since your last release. Tiny twitches of your hips are the only movement he’ll allow besides the squeezing of your arms around his shoulders. You’re rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as he was squeezed like a vice by your wet walls.
His finger doesn’t stop its assault on your clit, his other hand leaving his work to hold your hips down against him, “No, you’re not done. You want to come on my cock so bad? Take it.”
You gasp, squirming against the overstimulation as tears fall down your cheeks. It’s not until the third orgasm he tears out of you that you realize his game— he would keep his cock resting deep inside you, not moving an inch, until the sweet clench of your repeated orgasms made him come.
when you’re riding tsukki and he won’t shut up about how you’re struggling to take him so you shift forward, fingers tightening around the strong column of his neck. you see his eyes dilate, his breath hitch, all because of your fucking hand around his throat.
you get in close. your breath ghosts over his lips, saccharine smile overtaking your face, "you really think your cock's enough to satisfy me?"
he tries to strangle his groan, but you feel how violently his cock kicks inside your cunt.
"does little tsukki need his senpai to teach him how to fuck?" you lick the hollow of his throat. bite down on his neck. relish in the shudders and moans coming out of the usually sarcastic man. "did they not teach you how to make it fit?"
"what the fuck—"
he bucks his hips up into your slippery, wet heat, letting out a string of curses.
"aww, you mad at me, baby?" you're glad the languorous circles in his lap are driving him crazy. he teases you too often not to get fucked with. "should i call kuroo-san and see if he can pencil in a quick lesson?"
