Share your voice

Nova, 22, trying my best they/them

[feminist-space]

[feminist-space]

[ghostedink]

Old dogs, and new tricks. (18+ MDNI)

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

Price had been hearing it for weeks.

“Old dog’s can’t learn new tricks, price” Soap would grin across the table. Ghost’s low chuckle followed like smoke. “Bet the missus is bored stiff, Captain.”

Price never rose to the clear ragebait in front of the boys, but the words..stuck. You were younger, gorgeous, and God— always eager for him… yet a small, ugly part of him wondered if they were right. He’d never exactly been the adventurous type in bed—solid, thorough, but not… inventive.

So he cornered Gaz one night after drills.

“Need a favor, Sergeant.”

Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

Price rubbed the back of his neck, face already red with what he could only pin as embarrassment. “You’re good with the ladies. I want lessons. Real ones.”

Gaz blinked, then a slow, wicked grin spread. “You want a demonstration, Captain?”

Price’s jaw flexed. “Please..”

That’s how you ended up here—naked on the bed, thighs spread over Price’s lap while Gaz knelt between your legs like he’d been invited to dinner.

Price’s big hands were firm on your waist, keeping you pinned back against his chest. “She’s sensitive.” he muttered, almost clinical, but you could feel how hard he was against your lower back. “On with it, sergeant.”

Gaz’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry. “You ready for this, love?”

You nodded, already wet and aching just from the sheer thrill of the situation.

Gaz didn’t waste time. Two thick fingers slid through your folds, spreading you open. “First thing—don’t rush. Get her nice and wet.” He rubbed slow circles over your clit until your hips jerked, then pushed two fingers inside, curling just right.

Price watched every movement like it was a briefing.

“There’s a spongy spot here…” Gaz pressed upward deliberately causing your whole body to jolt. “Right there. That’s your target.”

He started pumping—steady, focused strokes that dragged over that spot again and again while his thumb kept pressure on your clit.

Price’s voice was rough in your ear. “Breathe, sweetheart. Let him work.”

Your orgasm built fast—embarrassingly so.

“That’s it..” Gaz praised, voice low. “She’s swelling up. See how she’s pulsing?” He added a third finger and the pressure inside became unbearable. “When she starts trying to close her legs, don’t let her. Keep going.”

Price’s hands moved to your thighs, holding them open. You came with a broken cry, but Gaz didn’t stop. He kept fingering you through it, rough and relentless, and suddenly everything felt tighter, hotter, like something was about to—

“There..” Gaz growled. “Let it go, lovely...”

With a whine, a gush of wetness flooded out around his fingers, soaking the sheets and his wrist. Price made a low, filthy sound behind you as he watched you squirt for the first time in your life.

Gaz eased his fingers out slowly, letting you ride the aftershocks, then lifted his soaked hand to show Price. “That’s the spot. Consistent pressure, curved fingers, and you don’t stop when she comes.. you keep going until she gives it to you.”

Price’s breathing was ragged. His cock was nearly throbbing against your back.

Gaz wiped his fingers on your inner thigh, then met Price’s eyes. “Your turn, Captain.”

Price shifted you forward, laying you down properly. He kissed the inside of your knee, voice low with promise.

“Watch close, Sergeant. I’m a fast learner.”

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

[kormeister]

Ko-fi request dump :3 !!! Ty for the yummy meals everyone

[nottsnymph]

Sometimes the house became almost painfully quiet when Simon was away. Not the good kind of quiet, the kind that settled softly over the room and let you breathe for a while. This was different. A strange, persistent silence that felt like something was missing from the walls themselves, like the whole place had forgotten how to sound like home.

You did your best to fill it.

Books, music, little cleaning spurts that turned into reorganizing entire shelves, and, most often lately, cooking. Cooking helped. It gave your hands something to do and your mind something to focus on. It was soothing, for the most part, until you made something you knew Simon would have loved, and there was no one there to tease, taste, or steal the first bite.

Still, tonight’s recipe had gone well. The kitchen smelled warm and rich, all garlic and herbs and something sweet lingering underneath. You stood there with a plate in one hand, ready to finally serve, when you heard it.

A shuffle. Then a low groan from the front door.

Your whole body went rigid.

Simon was not supposed to be back for another week. You were alone. No guests, no deliveries, no reason for anyone to be at the door at all.

Someone was breaking in. Shit.

You went cold all at once, every lecture Simon had ever given you on self defense flashing through your mind, but panic left no room for careful thinking. You grabbed the plate tighter, your knuckles whitening around it, and moved before your brain could catch up.

The lock rattled, the door bursting open and you swung.

The plate shattered spectacularly against the head of the very tall intruder.

For one breathtaking second, you stood frozen, half expecting a stranger, a threat, anything else.

Instead, a familiar grumble filled the doorway, "Fucking hell."

Your soul left your body.

“Simon?” you gasped, throwing your hands up in horror as adrenaline shot through you so fast your fingers trembled.

He staggered inside, a duffel bag slipping from one shoulder and thudding to the floor. One hand braced against the wall, the other pressed to the side of his head.

“Are you okay?!” you gasped.

“I got smashed with a plate. What ya think?” he muttered, eyes shut tight.

“You were supposed to be back in a week!”

“Mission ended early,” he said with a pained groan.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wanted t’ surprise ya.”

You stared at him.

Then gestured wildly at the ceramic graveyard on the floor.

"That is objectively the worst possible strategy for someone who constantly tells me to be careful because of all the enemies you've made."

He gave you a flat look. “Nice. Blame the victim.”

"The victim broke into the house like a raccoon with military training."

He huffed "rude."

“Just go sit down,” you said, already ushering him toward the sofa. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He kicked off his boots with a grunt and dropped onto the couch like all the bones in his body had collectively decided to quit. By the time you returned, kit in hand, he looked tired in that deeply worn-out way that made your chest ache, guilt gnawed at you like a tiny feral creature.

"Si, I'm so sorry," you blurted the second you sat beside him. "I genuinely thought someone was breaking in and then the door opened and I panicked and my body moved before my brain did and I hit you and—"

"It's alright, swee’heart," his voice came soft, steady.

You worked carefully, cleaning the scratches on his forehead and the small cuts along his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch much, though he did keep staring at you with that quiet, warm look that always made you feel like you were the only light in the room.

“Been through a dangerous mission,” he said, “an’ get home to get clocked by me wife.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you said, glaring at the cotton pad like it had personally offended you.

“Never said it was.”

“You are being very smug for a man who got ambushed by dinnerware.”

He huffed a laugh. “Usually wives greet their husbands with kisses and hugs. Not ceramic warfare.”

“I was trying out a new greeting method.”

He raised one brow. “Next time, how about a pan to the face?”

You let out a helpless laugh. “Shut up.”

“You hit me.”

“I thought you were breaking in!”

“Still counts as domestic violence, luv.”

You snorted despite yourself, and he looked absurdly pleased with that.

Once you finished, he leaned back into the couch with a long sigh, still horrified and still trying not to laugh at the stupidity of this entire situation. He tilted his head toward you.

“On the bright side,” he said, “I do know for certain you’re safe when I’m gone.”

[anobodycalledlynn]

D'aww. 🥺 The best welcome home there is. Nothing will ever top it (except, maybe, a pan 👀).

[ghostedink]

The sleeve. (18+ MDNI)

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

You’d been with the 141 long enough that the team felt like home—Price’s cigars, Soap’s endless jokes, Gaz’s easy laugh, and Ghost… well, Ghost was Ghost. Silent, broad-shouldered, always layered in black long sleeves and that damn mask. You’d never seen an inch of skin. Not once.

Well, until today.

You’d caught him in the gym, sleeves pushed up while he wiped down equipment. And oh God—Ink. A full sleeve on his left arm—dark, intricate, covered from wrist to bicep—maybe even higher— in sharp lines and shadows. Skulls, barbed wire, something that looked like a grim reaper. It suited him perfectly, and the sight hit you low in the gut.

You couldn’t stop staring. When he noticed, he tilted his head, that masked stare pinning you.

“Something wrong, love?”

You swallowed. “Your arm. I didn’t know you had any tattoos. They’re… really fucking cool.”

Ghost paused. “You want a closer look?” His voice dropped, low and rough, a warning but.. you didn’t catch it. “Might not be able to unsee it.”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I want to see.”

You not catching that warning was more blessing than curse— now you’re in his quarters, door locked, the only light a sad lamp casting shadows across the room. Your back is pressed to his chest, legs spread over his thighs as he fucks up into you from behind—slow, deep, relentless. The thick, tattooed arm hooked around you, and he’s got three fingers shoved deep in your mouth, stretching your lips, pressing down on your tongue, keeping you quiet.

You can see every inch of the ink.

The sleeve is even more detailed up close—black and gray, textured, the designs shifting with every flex of his forearm as he works his fingers in and out of your mouth in time with his cock. Saliva slicks his fingers, dripping down your chin, but you don’t care. You moan around them, eyes locked on the tattoos, on the way his muscles move, on how hot the contrast is between the deadly ink and the way he’s using that hand to keep you quiet and full.

“Fuckin’ asked if you were sure..” he growls against your ear, accent thick, breath hot through the mask he won’t remove. “Now look at you. Mouth stuffed with my fingers, cunt clenching every time you see somethin’ new. Dirty girl.”

He thrusts harder, hips snapping up, the wet sounds were obscene. His tattooed arm stays exactly where you can see it—fingers hooked in your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip as he makes you take them deeper. You gag softly and he chuckles, low and dark, never slowing.

“That’s it. Keep your eyes on it while I ruin you.”

Your hands grip his forearm, fingers tracing the lines of the tattoos as your orgasm builds fast and sharp. Ghost doesn’t let up—he fucks you through it, fingers muffling your cries, the full sleeve on display just for you like he promised.

When he finally pulls his fingers free, strings of spit connecting them to your lips, he drags the wet digits down your throat, over your chest, and presses the tattooed palm flat against your stomach so you can feel every inch of him still buried inside.

“Next time..” he murmurs, voice wrecked, “you’ll trace every line while I’m balls deep. Yeah?”

୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅୨୧ ⋅┈∘┈⋅⋅┈∘┈⋅ ୨୧

A/N: ….I’ve been going feral since the sleeve reveal guys..

[sandersstudies]

Parent I’m babysitting for says “[2yo] usually reads a bedtime story but sometimes she wi say ‘I want pictures of [2yo]’ and we pull up photos of her on the iPad to look at.”

[sandersstudies]

Modern day Narcissus at the pool

[sandersstudies]

I just heard the dad say “once you finish your noodles we can look at FIVE pictures of [2yo].” I am in hysterics I’ve never seen a child rewarded with pictures of themself. I love it, I hope she loves herself forever.

[saterise]

F1 driver and his race engineer 🍍🔥🏁

[johnpricescumrag]

You squealed loudly as you came again. Ghost's teeth were buried in your shoulder, leaving dark bruises.

"That's it, come for me again." Ghost growls into your skin, thrusts not slowing or ceasing.

Your whole body's covered in bruises. Teeth marks cover your neck, collarbone, and your shoulders.

There are handprints on your inner thighs, deep nail marks in the wake on his touch.

Your throat his hoarse and sore from all the screaming you've been doing.

Ghost doesn't let up. Not when you're sobbing and not when you're squealing. He doesn't care that his cruel hands have left your nipples inflamed and raw.

Ghost doesn't care that your clit hurts. All he cares about is making you cum again.

"C'mon, pretty girl, you can do it." Ghost groans, hand resting on your bare, delicate throat. "Cum for me. Just a couple more."

"I can't!" You sob.

"You can, and you fuckin' will." Ghost hisses, his free hand coming down hard on your ass. When you cry out, Ghost spanks your clit.

He revels in how tight you get around him and the sweet, sweet screech you let out.

"Yeah, that's it. Fuckin' scream for me." Ghost groans, hips stuttering. His harsh hands grow rougher the closer he gets.

You're forced to cum another three times, practically within seconds of each other.

You sob in relief when Ghost fills your pussy with his cum.

You know you'll feel this for days. You don't mind.

[luxcuriousao3]

It's never just your pussy that's sore the day after König fucks you. Yeah, his thick cock stretches you to your limit and then some, but it's also long enough to feel it your throat. So when your lower belly is achey and bruised-feeling the next morning, you think nothing of it. It's always tender from König's eager, vigorous love making--gentle or slow are nigh impossible with him, with how lost he gets in the tight grip of your cunt around him, and how he's always worried you'll change your mind about letting a beast of a man drill his oversized cock into you before he can come. (You won't, of course, but your sweet boy is always so anxious about it anyway). But when it only hurts worse the next day, despite König having given your body a much needed break (and lots of grateful apology kisses) you're a little worried. But you figure your period must be due soon, and curse God for giving women cramps, before moving on with your day.

(When you collapse at work and are rushed to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy, you think perhaps you should have been more concerned).

Coming out of anestesia to find a teary eyed, guilty König at your bedside, gripping your hand softly, you smack his shoulder hard enough to make him wince before starting to yell, still loopy enough that you sound far too funny to be at all intimidating.

"When I said you could rearrange my guts, I didn't mean literally!"

[warmfrequency]

you know when men slap their dick on your pussy a few times before they put it in? i feel like the 141 each have their own ritual.

simon? he slaps with weight. his cock is heavy, girthy, and he sort of just lets it drop against you, wet, blunt smacks across your lips and clit until you’re slick enough that every smack sounds obscene and you’re whining for him to just put it in already.

price slides his. he doesn’t tease so much as he just wants to watch his cock coat with your come. dragging the length of himself through your lips slowly, getting himself nice and wet until his fat head finally catches at your entrance on its own.

kyle’s the kind to feed you only the tip just to pull it out and drag the whole length of his cock up to your clit and back down, notches the head in again, pulls out, drags it back up. he’ll get lost doing it too if you let him, ten-fifteen minutes of it.

johnny slaps your cunt with his cock because he likes to watch. eyes locked on the way you twitch every time it lands, bringing it down in quick, smacking succession. distantly wondering where the hell he left his phone.

[anorlondo00moved]

M A R x A C E H E A D C A N O N # 1

There's only a few things that make Marco angry enough to snap at someone without warning.

Knocking on his door while he’s trying to get laid is one of them.

No patience. Immediate rage. Marco puts in more hours on-board then anybody else. He feels like he’s earned his time alone with Ace.

So, whatever it is it better be a real serious fucking emergency because he's gonna be ripping somebody’s throat out if it isn't.

[mo1527]

[clint-triumphs]

Marine Ace AU

Ace : If you want my advice-

Mihawk : No offense but you’re the last person I want relationship advice from. You tried to kill your boytoy multiple times.

Ace : First off, that was before we started dating. Secondly, He also tried to kill me.

Marco : It’s true! It was mutually attempted murder!

Shanks :

Shanks : So no one is going to talk about the boytoy thing? No? just me? Okay.

[clint-triumphs]

Marine Ace AU

Marco : There's no greater joy than saying something who reminds Ace that I'm a pirate and watching him Speedrun the five stage of grief as he realizes with horror that he still want to fuck me.

[listentothistrackbitches]

Super self indulgent MarAce 🫣🫣🥰🥰🥰

It’s kinda nutty how similar 40 year old Ace is to Shanks but that’s for someone else to look deep into. I’m just here for young Marco showing old man Ace a good time lmao

[spacer-case]

marcoace i drew some time ago, while actually laying by a beach 🌊

[lesserthan-3]

dubcon themes - threesome with gaz and price :3

captain john price who’s just a natural leader. He’s had it in him since he was just a wee lad. people just always gravitated towards him and over the years, he’s come to enjoy the natural dominance he has over others.

first, he meets gaz and gaz is the perfect subordinate. not only does he understand the hierarchy, but price can literally see the glimmer in Gaz’s eyes- eagerness to prove that he’s a good soldier.

then there’s you. you’re young, bright eyed, and similar to gaz, eager to please. he swears “yes sir” are your two favorite words. and just like gaz, he takes you under his wing.

you and gaz flourish under his leadership, learning exceptionally fast and in the meantime, forming a “special bond.”

it takes him a bit- but price notices. At first, it’s you offering your water bottle when gaz runs out. And then it’s the playful nudges at the dinner table. And even during movie nights, you two are suddenly sitting side by side rather than with price in the middle.

so, with his two best soldiers at heart, he calls you both into his office. “You two have anything you want to tell me?”

you and gaz give each other an odd look- perhaps out of confusion or just pure reluctance. “don’t think I haven’t noticed what’s been going on between you two.”

when you’re both silent, eyes straight ahead, and still as a board, price sighs. “Look, I’m not mad.”

you finally crack, “you’re not?” And your question confirms everything he needs to know.

price stalks over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and his fingers tighten ever so slightly. “No, I’m not. But I’m saying this in your best interest. There’s lots to think about when you start a relationship. This isn’t high school.”

“We know that, sir.” gaz takes a step closer to you, intertwining your fingers together. prices focus drifts, watching the way gaz has his thumb rubbing soothing circles against the backside of your hand.

“You both know I want what’s best for you, right?” To which you both nod quickly- as you both always did. “Good- I’m gonna help you two through this, yeah?”

and in hindsight, you probably should have asked a few more questions but “yes sir” came so easily with price.

so gradually, price helps you two get on the same assignments. then he’s suggesting gift ideas for national girlfriend day to gaz. and soon, he even manages to move you both in same barracks despite genders usually being split.

and when all is going well, price calls you into his office again.

“Alls good on the home front?”

this time, gaz is more confident as he holds your hand in his. “Very. Thank you, sir, or helping.”

price nods approvingly. joy swells in his chest as he watches his two favorite kids grow up into real adults. “so now that you two have been getting along, it’s time for the next step in your relationship.”

“Next step?” you ask softly, tilting your head in confusion.

“how do you feel about intimacy?”

you both turn to look at each other before a blush creeps on your cheeks. Gaz nearly mirrors your actions as you both bashfully look away.

price let’s put an amused laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.” he circles around you both, clapping a hand on both of your backs which startles you both. “how ‘bout we start today?”

there’s some brief hesitation, but then overall agreement when price assures you again that is all “for your best interest.”

so price instructs both of you to strip down. it’s humiliating to say the least, but that feeling sits beside a needing ache as your eyes land on gaz’s warm and bare skin.

he has gaz lay you down on his desk as he takes his seat in the large leather chair. “Right there, Kyle. Get in between them legs. See how it’s leaking? Good sign, son.”

Gaz lets out a shuddered breath. the sight of your glistening folds has his dick jumping with excitement. instinctively, he kneels down, arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing to his drooling mouth.

price keeps quiet, observing the way gaz experimentally licks a stripe up your sopping slit, taking in the way you gasp and jerk eat time he reaches your sensitive clitty.

he watches the way your hips start to chase more and more- eager for a friction that gaz is just too polite to give. so price stands up, walking to behind gaz. he grabs a fistful of his hair to which gaz groans deep into your cunt before pressing his face against your deprived core. “she’s not a porcelain doll, son. you gotta get in there.”

you shudder, hips humping poor Gaz’s face as he’s probably losing oxygen by the second. but you just can’t help it- not when it feels so. damn. good.

and when price things gaz can handle it on his own, he lets go. he knows gaz is a fast learner after all. price makes his way to your head, keen to the way you’re whimpering and sobbing? is that a tear?

he kneels down, palm pressed on your forehead. “Aww, poor baby. these are good tears, yeah?”

you nod furiously, “w-wanna…I’m- oh! oh! cum…cumming!”

and when you’re both a little too drunk on pleasure, he stands, sinking his cock onto your gasping mouth. his eyes flutter briefly, letting out a deep groan as he watches you writhe and quite literally feels you whimpering as you climax.

when gaz pulls away, he’s too memorized to notice anything but the way your pussy is practically begging to be fucked. his eyes are glazed over with one thought and one thought only.

price leans over the table, cock sliding deeper in your throat in the process. he flattens out his palm, running it down your stomach until he’s fingering your entrance. “give me your hand, kyle.”

gaz complies. price overlaps his hand with gaz’s, guiding it to your entrance. he pushes in two of gaz’s, and then one of his own.

Gaz watches in amazement at the way your pussy opens up so willingly for not one, not two, but three thick fingers. each pulse of your cunt is mirrored with a twitch of his dick, eager to feel the warmth around his own member.

price curls his finger, pushing against gaz who mimics the movement. “You feel that? that little spongey thing?”

“yes, sir.”

you let out a mewl, knees jerking close instinctively.

price delivers a sharp and firm slap to each thigh. “open up, soldier. keep ‘em there.”

he watches in wonders as your legs settle, complying with his orders before shifting his focus back to gaz. “You wanna hit that every time, understood?”

price withdraws his fingers, standing back up straight as gaz does the same. gaz takes his cock, pumping his length one and then twice before lining it up with your sopping puss.

with a deep and gutting moan, gaz fills you up with one firm press of his hips. his head drops back and he swears he’s seeing stars. he whines ever so softly, bucking his hips and burying himself to the hilt in your warm hole.

“how’s it feel?”

“l-like heaven, sir.”

it doesn’t take long before gaz’s hips chase the never ending reward of being engulfed in your divine. he’s panting, firm hands on your hips, bringing you to the base of his cock with every stroke.

price smiles in satisfaction, watching his mentee bloom with confidence. now that gaz is settled, he focuses back on you.

he withdraws his cock and it leaves a lewd string of saliva connecting it to your plump lips. “nice look you got there.”

he’s in fact referring to the way your eyes are glossy with need and the thin sheen of sweat of your forehead that only adds to the alluring mess. he runs his have over your upper body before finding home around your chest, letting his thumb softly trace over your perked nipples.

he slides his cock back into your slacked jaw, not thrusting, not rolling, merely resting it in your warmth.

gaz leans his body over yours, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck as he desperately humps into you. and being the perfect rule follower he is- he’s thrusting right into the same spot over and over. thank goodness price was there to help him find it.

“Oh, baby- oh fuck, you feel so good. baby, baby, oh b-baby.” he’s whimpering into your ear, hot breath grazing your neck as if almost suffocating you.

price looks down adoringly, watching his two favorite subordinates completely in a euphoric high. there’s something so satisfying about the way you both are shaking with need and clumsily moving your bodies to get off on one another.

price withdraws his cock, stuffing it back into his pants before taking his seat again at the head of the desk. “Fast learners you both are.”

And in a broken unison, you both reply on instinct. “Th-thank you, sir.”