Tw: Self-shipping; Male Masturbation

King Price assuring his pretty new bride that it’s tradition his most trusted men be there for the consummation of their marriage. It’s just part of the ceremony and to be expected. Nothing to be nervous or shy about. His inner circle are strictly professional and all about upholding the sanctity of marriage.

Now just lay back and let Johnny work your pretty little cunt open with his tongue. Your king would hurt you if you weren’t ready, and we can’t have that can we? We need you relaxed and pliant. It’s okay if it feels good, no need to fight it. Johnny is here to please you as much as he is there for John. You are the new queen after all.

Kyle can help you keep your cries down, just open your mouth nice and wide for him. Just like that. Let him stuff his cock down your throat to muffle you. We don’t want the maids in waiting to hear you scream. Scare the poor dears to death thinking you were in pain.

Then when you’re ready John will bully his way into your slick hole. He knows the stretch burns but he keeps going, assuring you it gets better. As he bends your knees up to your ears he whispers to you about how good you feel. How pretty you are with tears in your eyes and his name on your lips. That it’s okay to claw at him as he punches against your cervix as he pushes in hard and deep when he comes.

When John rolls off you, Simon’s fingers are there quickly replace him, making sure none of the kings spend goes to waste. He knows your overstimulated and sore but don’t try and crawl away. Unless you want a sharp smack to your abused clit. And as your body clenches around his fingers you can rock your hips to match his movements pushing into you, no need to be shy.

And as you lay there on display in the bed, hips up on a pillow to keep everything in that Simon pushed back inside, Johnny will clean you up. Wipe away the left over spit and come from your thighs with a deliciously warm cloth. He’ll use his tongue again for the especially tender parts if you whine prettily enough. Kyle does the same for his King as John lays next to you, grinning as he watches.

Meanwhile, Simon leaves to tell the Court it’s done; his fingers still glistening as the evidence.

“From whence you came” is a classic place to send back a foul beast

I’m sorry this train just won’t stop

More Johnny and Ghost with Ghost’s selectively mute (edit; I originally labeled reader as non-verbal, but I was made aware mutism more accurately describes this!) gf

Soap loves it when Simon fingers you in front of him, movie totally forgotten, and lets him cum on your stomach when he jerks off. And seeing Simon wipe it from your pretty belly and put his fingers between your lips? Goddamn.

But you know what makes him feel over the fucking moon? When you hug him at the door when he’s heading out. When you say goodnight so, so quietly in his ear.

We all know that man is a dog. And now you’ve got him by the fucking leash. He’ll do anything to hear more of that voice.

He’s totally addicted. Now every time he meets up with the guys and you’re along, or he comes to your place for movie nights, he’s leaning down for you to whisper hi, Soap, or goodnight, Johnny. Two little words and he’s melting. And he starts unlocking more little bits— learning to prompt in ways that you’ll respond.

Instead of asking how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, running his mouth the way his thumping heart is telling him to, he just asks “you okay?” So he can hear your sweet, quiet tone when you say I’m ok.

Makes him fucking hard. He’s never been so hard on so little before. Just two fucking words and he feels like he’s gonna pass out from his blood rushing down.

Ghost never defines your relationship, and in a lot of ways what is allowed is determined by him. And he’s fine with the loose boundaries of your relationship until he realizes that you also have other people in your phone. It only really crosses his mind when you ask him to come as your date to some event and when he inevitably declines that offer what does he look like getting dressed up and forced to go talk to a bunch of fucking idiots you hit him with a shrug and mention that you’ll ask someone else. You don’t even look up from your phone but he is staring a hole into the side of your head cause who the fuck else would you ask?

gazghost needs to be talked abt more. need to be the rookie recruit who catches ghost bottoming for gaz and having to lick the cum out of his hole

omg i got so lightheaded i had to lie down for a bit. bottom ghost is so scrumptious and i should start writing about fucking him until he's gaping more often. red u get it so bad

hnngnhhh just being tugged over by gaz after he's pulled out and pushed down to your knees right behind your lieutenant's dripping asshole. he's reaching back and spreading himself open for you, peeking over his shoulder with those sweet, teary eyes, silently demanding (pleading) you clean him up.

gaz has a firm hold on your nape, guiding you forward, and you flatten your tongue against ghost's balls to follow the streak of cum that leads back up to his hole. he's so pliant like this—both body and personality—as you lap at his stretched rim. whimpers real airily too when your tongue dips inside, mind still a jumbled mess from gaz's rough fucking, and you just about make the same noise when your head is pushed closer.

"atta girl," gaz sighs, replacing ghost's slipping hand with his own and spreading a fat ass cheek so he can really see how your tongue works. "tha's a good pup, make him feel good."

you're so eager—angling your head better so you can shove your tongue as deep as possible, making all these soft, keening noises, hands squeezing at his meaty thighs. you're practically making out with his hole, sloppily mopping up as much cum as you can while he rocks back, white-knuckling the desk beneath him.

meanwhile, gaz is watching intently, lazily pumping his still-hard cock as he murmurs praises to the both of you. he guides you when you get too self-indulgent (play with his balls, too, eh? simon loves it, look how much his cock's leakin'), and he prods a finger around your tongue, chuckling when ghost arches his back into a lovely little bow.

him leaning over to check on his lieutenant and smiling when he finds the bigger man damn near cross-eyed and drooling right through his mask...

f!reader

Johnny lost his dogtag, and sent you a message asking if you've seen it at home.

Only for you to send him a picture of yourself wearing it.

And now, his brain malfunctioned, and he froze, staring unblinking at his phone with his mouth open (and is he.. drooling?).

All of his focus was directed at how the piece of metal (which has his name on it) was resting nicely between your boobs (because of course you're wearing the sluttiest top with a very low neckline)

(18+ MDNI)

As far as roommates go, Simon Riley isn’t a bad one to live with

Rarely in the flat, gone for weeks at a time, you sometimes forgot you even shared the rent with someone when you first moved in

And when he is around, he keeps out of your way, tidies up after himself, will offer to run to the shop when you’re running low on something for tonight’s dinner

All in all, you get along well

Especially after a few months go by, and he starts sinking his cock into you whenever he’s home

Every chance he gets, he’s got your ankles resting over his shoulders, or your legs locked around his waist, or your tits in his mouth, or your ass squeezed between his fingers or your hips against his as he bounces you or-

Once he’s had his first taste, Simon is insatiable, never not fucking you every opportunity he gets

He has you feeling like you’re on top of the world, while simultaneously about to tip over the edge of it at any moment

Your time spent together consists of bursts of pleasure and passion tangled together in a mess of limbs and lips, visions of scars and tattoos clouding your dreams at night

And while these rendezvous consist strictly of an outlet for stress, a means to an end that leaves you both more than satisfied, you can’t help the slowly blossoming feelings growing in your chest that whisper to you that you might mean something more to him, that you might just be something more to Simon

It’s on one such occasion, while Simon is balls deep inside you, about to put an end to his teasing and let you finally cum on his cock, when reality slaps you hard across the face

Your moans and whines, his grunts and gasps, combined with the sounds of skin slapping repeatedly, are nearly loud enough to drown out the ill-fated sound of his cell phone ringing from the pocket of his discarded jeans

“Simon, please! I- I’m so- Si, I’m close, I’m close! I’m gon-” You moan into his ear, ankles locked tight around his waist and fingernails scratching at the exposed skin of his back, pleading with him to deliver you the ecstasy you’ve been promised

Your begging comes to a stop however, when his own movements halt entirely, hips stilling against yours as pauses, looking back into your eyes though his mind is obviously suddenly elsewhere

“What are y-”

“Shh.” He shushes you all too quickly, just in time for the faint ring of his phone to reach both your ears

“Simon, wait. No! Can’t we-”

“That’s gonna be work.” He grunts out, sweaty palms slipping down your thighs towards your calves to try and disentangle himself from you

“So? It can’t wait 60 seconds? We were about to-”

“Doesn’ matter.”

“Are- are you serious right now?” You question, stunned by his reaction. In all the months you and Simon have been falling into bed together, he’s never told you what his work is, and you’ve learned not to ask him anymore

He pays his rent on time and contributes to the grocery runs, how he earns his money hasn’t been any of your business thus far, but it’s certainly never gotten in the way of your escapades before

Simon’s apparently decided he doesn’t need to entertain you with a response, because he’s pulling himself out or your embrace without a word, standing off the bed and pulling his cell out of his haphazardly thrown pants before the ringer ends

“Simon! What kind of job-”

“Alrigh’?” Is all he says into the phone, nodding along momentarily to whoever is on the other line, before he’s affirming something or another and hanging up, tugging his pants back on without so much as a glance back at your naked form sprawled out on the bed in shock

“Simon-”

“See ye when I’m back, birdie.”

And with that, Simon is out of your room, out of the flat, out of your life for who knows how long, a reoccurring event you should have grown used to by now, but never has he left you high and dry like this before

That was the day you learned, as special as you might feel when Simon is grinding against you, caressing your skin and grunting sweet nothings into your ear, you were not Simon’s priority

You would always come second

More angst

Ghost who lives after Johnny dies, Ghost who wishes the bomb went off so he didn’t have to face a world without his Johnny. The one he didn’t get to tell he loved, foolishly believing they’d both make it back when it seems neither did truly.

Or angstier:

The same Johnny he wanted to marry, the ring burning in his bedside drawer in his room in the barracks. He had made a plan after this mission he was gonna propose to Johnny, he even asked for Price’s blessing, he was even going to ask him to officiate their wedding? What he wasn’t expecting when cleaning out Soap’s room? An engagement ring with their initials cause of course Soap’s sappy like that, a note that had written down Johnny’s plans, how he was gonna propose, how he was gonna get Price’s blessing besides definitely already having it and oh no..just like him Johnny was planning to ask Price to officiate their wedding, so now, weeks later Ghost wears a chain with two rings on it, Johnny’s plans in a picture frame so Simon Ghost never has to forget how he wrote, his handwriting, cause he despite knowing he wouldn’t ever forget, also didn’t think that mission was gonna take Johnny away and yet it did, and he refused to let the world take one more thing of Johnny away, or his memory away.

(So post is on main)

The Secret History

“But how,” said Charles, who was close to tears, “how can you possibly justify cold-blooded murder?’ Henry lit a cigarette. “I prefer to think of it,” he had said, “as redistribution of matter.”

The way I'm obsessed with this group, ugh!!!

Digital Illustration, 2025

Gorchart