Latest Posts by distinguishedsaladphantom - Page 11

COD porn links

MDNI

I tried to add some more inclusive vids like male X male plus sized and fetishes

Kyle

He is mad at you for flirting with another guy

Dryhumping childhood best friend Kyle

Kyle fucks you while you're handcuffed

Sucking his dick after deployment

After he tells you I love you for the first time (mxm)

Kyle being a good boy

Kyle and his wife

Price

John teaches his rookies some respect (mxm)

You talked back Infront of the team ( god he looks so much like price - respectable drooling not from the mouth)

Husband Price

He apologised for being so long on Deployment

John price with his new insecure sergeant

Sucking older bf price

Price is hungry for your cunt

Simon

Simon uses your cum as lube (male X male)

You're not allowed to cum (mxm)

Pre military Simon fucking his first girlfriend

Just the tip love

Simon always loved them bigger

Soap

The minute he comes back from deployment (male X male)

Johnny in lingerie

The video Johnny shows when someone asks how you look

(never shows your face but your cunt is okay -idiot)

Johnny has a foot fetish

Johnny loves you

Please let me play with your tits

Johnny is a needy bastard

Extra

The video you got after sending them a nude

But why does it give Johnny and Simon "we're just friends" vibes

Threesome with Simon and Johnny

Johnny getting himself off in the barracks

Sunshine and price from my fanfic

Valeria and Alejandro sharing you

oh you're in a horror film/book and your phone died/has no bars? how boring. I think phones in horror SHOULD work. they should ding only to have the protagonist check and find nothing. they should get calls from somebody you don't know but is still somehow in your contacts. google maps should lead you to one place, no matter what address you type in.

phones are such a big part of our daily lives, removing them from horror removes the horror from our experience. what if the horror felt like it could happen to you, right here, right now? what if it felt like it was already happening?

Art by dachell_ART

☆ p! twt links ☆

having fun during office hours with professor! price

riding professor! price after a long night of grading papers

price really loves your tits

thanking professor! price for boosting your grade

professor! price rewarding his smart little girl

price is a tits man 100%

price loves you pretty in pink

older bf! ghost manhandling your after a long day at work

ghost loves gripping your ass as he ruts into you

hands back, ass up for ghost

ghost loves choking you

ghost recording you for when he’s away

clapping your cheeks for ghost

movie night with ghost

soap stuffing your ass full of himself

soap loves teasing his sweet sweet girl

you’re giving older bf! soap the silent treatment, but still desperate for a fix of his cock

you’re a loud desperate slut for soaps cock

soap loves playing with your pretty little pussy

taking care of loser bf! soap

gaz fucking your pretty pussy

steamy night in with loser bf! gaz

gaz loves eating out your wet cunt

what gaz sends you when he’s away

older bf! gaz having his way with you in the shower

gaz and his fat cock

you and gaz get messy

riding gaz after hours

decided to hop on the train of porn visuals for the cod men<3 I hope u enjoy

cw: all videos are with fem anatomy!, generally a lot of rough sex, fingering, threesome, slapping, hair pulling, spit, choking, anal, toys

!all links are reddit!

{ looks of the people in the vids have nothing to do with how I see the characters or readers }

Ghost

♡ loves fucking you while you just hold onto him, the way he can feel how much smaller you are than him is driving him insane :(

♡ he loves the taste of u, what can I say

Gaz

♡ gaz doesnt give up control too often but seeing you fuck yourself on his dick is just too tempting:(

♡ who doesn't love a good titjob?

Price

♡ eating like a man starving

Soap

♡ just catching you after your shower before you put clothes on :3

Alejandro

♡ Alejandro has strange ways to motivate you to get up..

♡ thigh riding?? THIGH RIDING??

Rudy

♡ cuddle fucking and just rutting against each other is his favourite thing in the world :(

♡ dont let his sweet personality fool you, if you let him have at you he has no problem with pounding you brutally :(

Graves

♡ graves taking you to his ranch and not being able to keep his hands off you sigh

♡ rewarding you is almost as good as punishing you :3

yall knew it was only a matter of time 🤡💀

141 twt links :)

MDNI 18+ Under the cut!!

24 links, lmk if there's a problem with them/a repeat, and I'll fix it :))

✰ SIMON RILEY ↷

Shower.

Rough !!

Taking care of his sweet baby.

Fill you nicely <3

Simon's obsession !!

Missing you while deployed :(

✰ JOHN PRICE ↷

John's obsession <3

His favorite way to relax after a hard day !!

Back pain? Never heard of her.

Lover boy :(

Missed these pretty tits.

All he can think about.

✰ JOHNNY MACTAVISH ↷

His pretty kitty !!

Can't even wait to get home.

Ride him all night.

Vocal !!

Mindless <3

Johnny's obsession.

✰ KYLE GARRICK ↷

Fuck you stupid.

Take it like a champ !!

Kyle's obsession <3

Fold you and watch you take it.

His favorite way to unwind.

Treat her well.

Merman Levi my beloved silly sea creature

Plus a silly little doodle

What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

Make the brothers indecisive

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

Eternity and counting

Pt 4

(Pt1, Pt2, Pt3)

(Ragggggh!! Actually remembered to post on a Tuesday this time lol.)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

~/\~

I catch a whiff of fresh lilies as I continue to the castle. Curious. The castle has always smelled like roses. They were never Lord Diavolo's favorite, but they reminded him of his mother. But the closer I get, the stronger the smell, until it finally comes into view. Bushes and vines covered top to bottom in every species of lily I've ever seen in the human realm run elegantly up the walkway, over the entrance, and across the windowsills. I can't help staring in awe as I approach the front doors, I've never seen the entryway so decorated, even for Diavolo's parties or festivals. I wonder what the occasion is.

Within thirty seconds of my knuckles connecting with the door, it's opened with a flourish. Barbatos grins that trained grin I learned to detest in my time here. Nobody ever understood how I did it, but I could always tell when Barbatos was simply smiling for his Lord's image and when he was smiling for his own enjoyment. Part of me was always nervous he could see the same in me, but if he ever noticed, he never brought it up.

"Welcome to The Demon Lord's Castle. Please, Come in." He bows, sweeping his arm to welcome me.

"Thank you." I nod, stepping inside the frame and to the side of the door. Before he can even close the door behind me, I'm offering him the paperwork I was tasked with bringing.

"Ah, actually, if you don't mind following me. Lord Diavolo has requested to meet you. When he heard that Michael was sending a new angel, he insisted on meeting you. I'm sure you know the importance of those papers. It is quite unlike Michael to entrust a task of this magnitude to an angel we've never even met." He explains as he leads me down the hall.

I nod. "Of course."

I shouldn't have nodded. Why would I agree to this? It was instinct, I'm sure. Babatos could ask me to follow him straight into wild seas and I would, without a second thought. And now I've agreed to follow him to my own torment.

He moves silently as he leads me upstairs and out onto the balcony. My heart squeezes itself shut as I see Lord Diavolo, leaning over the balcony to admire the flowers below. He doesn't turn to greet us immediately, but something about the sag in his shoulders and the tension in his knees begs me to hold his hand. Soothe his worried thoughts until he has no choice but to sleep it off and start anew the next day. Something must be horribly, horribly wrong with me.

But the feeling is fleeting as he turns to us, standing tall as ever with that cover photo smile.

"Ah! You must be Michael's new angel! He seems quite fond of you." He strides towards us, clasping my hand firmly in his own. "Though, I admit he never gave me your name."

He poses the question so simply, and I have to fight the gut instinct to answer him honestly. But it burns, bitter and angry in my stomach as I summon the name Michael had given me for the sake of my privacy in the Celestial realm.

"Well it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He nods, but his wording gives me pause.

"Finally?"

"Of course! Michael has brought you up nearly every time we've spoken in the last several months." He laughs. God that laugh. I've dreamt of it. It makes me wonder for a brief moment if the cloaking spell expresses my growing blush.

But I disregard the consideration for the thought of Michael and the absolute hell I'd be giving him when I return. He's been plotting this for months, that bastard.

"Well, I'm glad to hear he speaks so highly of me." I bow lightly, presenting the paperwork to him. He takes it quickly, tossing it onto the table next to him.

As I stand back up, I wonder what to do with the sudden silence.

"Well, It's been a pleasure to meet you." I grin, wings flicking quickly. A nervous habit I've picked up since sprouting them.

"Right! I'm sure you have some important business to attend to." He claps his hands together. "Give Michael my best." He turns back to the railing and Barbatos moves to usher me out. But before I go, a question was lingering in my mind. "If I may, why lilies? Michael always tells stories of your grand rose gardens."

The balcony grows cold with the fall of Diavolo's gaze. Something unsettling burrows itself in my skin, burning like ice in my mouth.

"Lilies were MC's favorite." He mumbles. Practically whispers it into the wind.

But the sound reaches me anyway, and despite the gentle tone, it feels like being punched through the chest. "What?" I heard him, he knows I did. And he's right. Lilies are my favorite. Always have been. But I ask the question anyway. Because I simply can't comprehend why that would matter. It's been over a year now, they should have gotten over it. And yet, here he is. Mourning, right in front of me.

Barbatos places a tentative hand on my shoulder, whispering to me. "MC was a dear friend of ours. They... passed, some time ago." There's a pitch in his voice I don't recognize. Regret?

"And so, we maintain the garden, to show to them when they are reborn." Diavolo adds, smiling softly at me over his shoulder.

Something in the view of it all chokes me. Like swallowing a cotton ball.

They're still waiting for me.

Are they all still waiting? Lord Diavolo is one thing, but the brothers? Do they expect me to come home? Do they want me to? Why would they want that? After all I've done.

Before I can even consider it, I feel the familiar warm slip of tears down my cheek. Emotions I haven't grappled with in some time burn in my throat, clawing at my vocal cords and squeezing my airway shut. I hate this. I hate this feeling so much my hands shake with it. I never should have come here. It's selfish to say, but I could have gone on not knowing this. Had I stayed in the Celestial realm, I could have gone on for eternity, selfishly unaware that I was still wanted.

I swipe pathetically at my tears, wings flicking as I straighten my posture. "I'm, uh, terribly sorry for your loss." It's barely above a whisper but I know they can hear it. "But I... I should be getting back now."

They can tell something is wrong, of course they can. But rather than stick around for questions, I take off, sprinting through the halls of the castle and out through the front door.

I'm running on instinct as I navigate the streets of the city. I don't remember where I'm going, all I know is I need to get there fast. I should just return to the courtyard and wait for Michael to send the portal back to get me. But something in the idea of going back to the celestial realm brings bile to my throat.

So I follow my subconscious blindly, feet slamming against pavement and heart nearly shaking with the effort of it all until I come to an abrupt stop. My eyes, bleary as they are, recognize the sight before me like I had last seen it yesterday. The House of Lamentation looms over me, glass eyes challenging me from within the gate. The elegant iron rods of the gate twist around themselves and each other like a den of snakes. And I feel the same warm comfort from them as I always have. I pointed out the striking serpentine similarities between this gate and himself to Levi once. He was offended at first, but was quickly struck dumb when I pointed out how much I liked snakes.

The urge to press the gate open burns like fire in my hand, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to go back. There's no way I'd leave on my own once granting myself entry, and there's no explanation for my presence if I'm caught.

But if I turn around now, I will never come back. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

(UGHHHH I hope y'all are still enjoying!! As always, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist)

-Your friend, The Author <3

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @seraphlies @averageradstudent @sasa-mya @ayshela @miracl3d

pornstar!price who does a competition where he’ll fuck one of his fans and the winner is some inexperienced, awkward loser girl :( when he asks what she wants him to do on camera she asks him to nice and gentle with her, to make her cum loads of time and tell her how pretty she is and what a good girl she is the whole time

and she asks with such a polite smile, how can he say no? makes her cum nicely on his tongue and fingers before letting her lower herself onto his cock at her own pace. she doesn’t pose for the camera she just focuses all her attention on him as he presses kisses to her neck and shoulders as per her request

stops and gives her a cuddle halfway through the session when the multiple orgasms make her all dizzy. presses kisses to her forehead and strokes her back like they’re lovers :( makes her head all fuzzy by whispering praise in her ear the whole time

The Dragon’s Mate

CW‼️⚠️: Size Difference, FemDom! Mc x Sub! Lucifer

Soap in Cowboy's lingerie!! (COMMISSION)

Another Kind of Pleasure (Gaz x Ghost)

I caved. Here's Ghost sounding Gaz.

Warnings: sounding (duh), BDSM themes, dom/sub dynamics, sadism/masichism, bondage

---

"Will it hurt?" Kyle asked, a slight tremble in his voice. His chest rose and fell with heavy, steady breaths. His arms were spread out on either side of him tied to the bedposts as he reclined against the headboard, pillows behind his back to add support. Ghost glanced up at him through his mask where he knelt on the bed between Kyle's spread legs.

"That's the whole point, Kyle." He had forgone his skull mask and donned a plain black balaclava with a slit over the mouth. No need to scare the poor boy more than necessary with a death-mask, he was already nervous enough. He slowly pumped Kyle's length, hand and cock both heavily smothered in lube. It wasn't enough stimulation to get Kyle off, just enough to keep him nice and hard for his Lieutenant. "But it'll feel good, too." Ghost's eyes flicked back down to the cock in his hand.

Gaz's dick was as pretty as the rest of him. Dark tan, long, and pleasantly thick; uncut, but when he grew to full hardness, the foreskin pulled itself back to reveal a plump, dark red cockhead. Ghost rubbed his thumb over it, admiring the slit in the center of it, pushing the tip of his lubricated finger just slightly into it, making the man below him grunt. The corner of his lip twitched upward at the sound.

"You trust me, Kyle?" Ghost asked

"Yes, sir," Kyle answered with out even a second of hesitation. He trusted his lieutenant with his very life, of course he trusted him with his pleasure as well. Kyle's eyes dropped to Ghost's cock, then, each man studying the other.

If Gaz was big, then Ghost was huge. Ghost's cock was hard as a rock, but it couldn't stand straight up due to the sheer weight of the thing, instead drooping slightly between hs thighs. The girth alone was enough to make Gaz dizzy, and he was sure the length would reach his stomach once he was inside. The skin of the shaft was mildly darker than the rest of Ghost's pale skin, and the head was a lovely bright pink, almost magenta, partly hidden by the uncut skin. And, best of all, it was pierced. Nine lovely silver rungs of a Jacob's Laddar lined the underside, and at the crown was a Prince Albert hoop.

It was clear that Ghost was no stranger to pain-as-pleasure, but Gaz was still new to the concept of masochism, at least to this degree. He was a fan of nails scratching down his back and deep bite marks on his shoulder, he'd even been slapped a handful of times and was surprised at his own enjoyment.

But when he'd seen his Liutenant's pierced cock in the showers one day, his curiosity peaked. Ghost caught him staring, and the conversation started. Gaz had all sorts of questions, and Ghost had as many answers and more. When Ghost, under his breath, lest anyone else overhear, asked Kyle if he'd like his help with exploring this side of him, Kyle had to hold himself back from cumming in his pants.

The two of them arranged for a weekend together and Ghost met Kyle at his flat with a suitcase full of wonderful toys and instruments. The first day they had started easy, a bit of impact play with paddles and floggers that left Kyle's ass and thighs raw. Now on day two, each time Kyle's hips shifted from Ghost's touches, his tender skin chafed against the sheets below him, and Gaz found that the sensation only excited him more.

"You've done this before, right?" Kyle asked. His voice was low and gravelly, thick with restraint as his breath hitched from Ghost prodding at his cock slit again.

"Yes, several times. On myself and someone else." Ghost looked up at Gaz again and, upon seeing the trepidation on his face, leaned over him and kissed him through the horizontal slit in the mask. "If you don't like it, then we'll stop and try something else. Just say the word. Alright?" Gaz took a deep, quivering breath to steady himself.

"Alright," he answered. And with that, Ghost pulled back and picked up the silver instrument beside him, rubbing his lubricated hand over it, coating it thoroughly in the slippery substance.

The sounding rod was long and narrow, as long as Gaz's cock and then a little more. It was ridged, resembling a string of beads, but it was all one piece, straight and rigid. It was only a few millimeters in diameter and very smooth. Ghost held it up to Gaz's face for him to observe. At the very end was the shape of a skull.

"How fitting," Gaz joked with a shiver, trying to lighten his own mood. Ghost huffed lightly through his nose.

"Are you ready?" Ghost asked, rubbing circles around Gaz's tight cock hole.

Gaz's eyes were fixated on his own dick, and with one last deep, calming breath, he swallowed and said, "Yes, Sir." Ghost moved slowly, positioning the blunt tip of the rod at Gaz's opening, and then pushed. Gaz let out a loud, shuddering moan at the new sensation. It truly was like nothing he'd ever felt. It stung, it burned, it stretched him out, but it was so delicious he knew right away he'd become addicted to this feeling. The soft, squishy flesh of his head popped back up from the tension of the sounding rod as his dick swallowed up the first bead.

Neither Gaz nor Ghost could tear their eyes away from the way each little bead popped into Gaz's cock. About halfway inside him, it became too much for Gaz and he threw his head back, chest heaving with short, sharp breaths.

"Hey," Ghost interrupted gently but firmly, stopping his penetration of Gaz's cock. "Don't hold your breath. Come on, look at me, Kyle." The younger man opened his eyes wide and stared down at him.

"Hurts," was all he could say.

"I know. Just breath through it. Come on." Ghost took a deep breath and Kyle followed. "There you go. Again." They repeated twice more, and on the last exhale, Ghost resumed pushing the rod inside, making Gaz moan loudly, the sound barreling out of his chest. "Almost there, just a couple inches to go."

"It's- it's too- it's too much-"

"You can take it, Kyle. This is the hardest part. You can take it just breathe." And finally, the last couple beads disappeared inside Gaz as he let out a shout. He stared down at his throbbing, twitching dick, the little metal skull bobbing in the center of it.

For a moment they both stared at the rod perfectly inside. Fuck, Kyle could feel it going all the way down to his balls. It was a stretch like no other. The burn made his thighs shake, and he came to the realization that he loved it. He met Ghost's eyes and his lips twitched.

"Fuck," he moaned.

"You like that, Kyle?"

"Fuck... yes sir..." Kyle's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Then, Ghost tapped the end of the rod, and the sound Kyle made sounded more like he'd been punched in the gut. The muscles of his arms bulged as he pulled on the restraints. "Lieutenant!" He cried. Ghost only smiled and did it again, then held it in place with one hand as the other started stoking up and down. His thumb pressed against the underside of Kyle's cock, feeling through the skin each bump and divot of the rod inside.

"You feel that, Kyle?" He asked, but Kyle could only moan in response, already out of his mind at the feelings his Lieutenant gave him. Ghost moved his hand tightly, painfully up and down the length, and Kyle writhed and yanked on the ropes around his wrists. But not once did he ever ask to stop.

Ghost started to move the rod in and out of Kyle's cock hole, and was pleased at the tears that began to roll down Kyle's pretty cheeks. His plush lips were parted, his jaw dropped in a mix of pain and mindless pleasure, his misty eyes focused on how Ghost's hands worked the rod in and out, fucking his urethra with it. He did this for some time, until Kyle was just about to cum, and then he pushed the rod all the way in again, and removed his hands completely.

"Please, please, lieutenant, please let me cum, please," Kyle bumbled out, begging, pleading for release.

"Shut the fuck up, Kyle, you'll take what I give you," Ghost said, not quite snapping, but not quite gentle either.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Kyle quickly responded to his Commanding Officer.

Ghost left Kyle's cock untouched for a moment, letting him stew in the pain and discomfort, and he finally touched his own cock. He had neglected himself the whole night, letting himself hang hard and throbbing in anticipation. Now, though, he stroked himself with his lubed-up hand, adding a few more drops for extra measure. Kyle moaned at the sight and sound of his Lieutenant touching himself.

When he found himself thoroughly lubricated, he reached down to spread Gaz's ass cheeks, grabbing a handful of the plush fat, and then pushing his slippery fingers inside. Gaz moaned loudly at the intrusion, at being penetrated at both ends. Ghost fingered him open quickly, but still left his hole fairly tight. He wanted it to burn when he finally shoved his girth inside the man below him.

Ghost shuffled forward on his knees and brought Kyle's ass onto his lap. He lined the tip of his cock up with Kyle's other hole and made sure to lock eyes with him.

"You ready for this?" He asked him.

"Yes, fuck, yes sir- ruin me, sir!" And then Ghost pushed in. Gaz's eyes rolled back in his head with every pop-pop-pop of Ghosts piercings catching on the rim of his ass. Ghost set a hard rhythm, and the angle had his pierced tip hitting Gaz's prostate each time. The poor man's whole body was shaking in pleasure.

Ghost grabbed hold of Kyle's dick when he noticed the rod rising out of it, and shoved it back in to a scream from Kyle's lips. The man below him babbled nonsense, please for release, for more, to slow down, none of it making any sense. Kyle was completely out of his mind on pleasure.

And then he felt the wave about to crash. He looked up at the Ghost who hammered into him with wild, terrified eyes, and then looked down at his own dick. And when it hit, he could only watch as his cock swelled with the cum trapped inside. His ears rang, he couldn't even hear his own strangled yell. Finally, Ghost pulled the rod out and let Gaz's cum escape. The sticky white fluid erupted from his stretched hole, coating both their abdomens.

Ghost shuddered as his own orgasm approached, watching as Gaz convulsed and then went limp. With a few more rough thrusts, he emptied himself into Gaz's asshole. Both holes were thoroughly abused at the end. Ghost caught his breath as he softened inside Kyle.

"Sergeant, how copy?" He asked from above. Slowly, Kyle opened his pretty brown eyes, and when he answered, his voice sounded thin and exhausted.

"Solid, sir."

"Are you sure about that?" Ghost asked, picking up Kyle's soft dick, making him flinch.

"Very funny, sir," he mumbled.

Finally, Ghost pulled out and got to work untying Gaz from the bed. He had warm, damp towels ready and waiting to wipe them both off while they waited for the tub to fill.

"Need me to carry you, or do you think you can make it?"

"Huh?" Kyle wondered, laying boneless and brainless on the bed. Ghost decided to carry him. He let Gaz lay in the hot bath as he changed the sheets and got him water to drink. He finally removed the mask as he settled into the water behind him.

After they were washed and dried, they lay in the clean bed, Kyle's head resting on Simon's shoulder.

"So..." Kyle said, sleep heavy in his voice, "What do you have planned for tomorrow?"

---

This was very much inspired but @/HotSatans sounding art on Twitter, but I changed the ship from Ghoap to Ghaz to make my own story. I definitely totally did not have a sounding kink already...

@greatstormcat enjoy pookie

Thinking about

Competitive Kyle "Garrick" Gaz

Enlisting at the same time and becoming friends since day one. Always coming first on every classification, one week you're first, next week it's him.

People think you two are friends because you are always at the top, until they stop to look and realise is the other way around. The only reason you two are always at the top is because you are friends.

Best friends.

Always competing with each other.

There are like 30 other soldiers in the same training squad, still Kyle and you only have eyes for each other.

Running side by side, sparring is always a tie, beating each other records every single time. Every new challenge is just an opportunity to beat each other.

But Kyle is a mean winner, and whenever he starts to collect a couple of wins he grows cocky. Good thing you know perfectly fine how to humble him.

Late at night in your room, 69ing together, still competing to see who can get each other off first with you on top. And Kyle still tries to win, he truly does; until you pull back the skin of his twitching cock, curling your tongue around his bulbous tip and along his slit that has him curling his toes and moaning your name.

You are also mean about it, keeping your hips high enough so he can't reach, and sucking his balls into your mouth so he doesn't have the strength to pull you down. Taking your time to swallow his thick cock, sliding down your throat as you moan making the vibrations travel up from his dick to his ears.

He looks like he's strapped to the bed, unable to lift a finger as you hollow your check to suck him harder, your hand massaging his thick member and heavy balls.

The only time he stops moaning is right before painting your throat white with the thick spurs of his seed, erupting again in breathy whine and loud moans right as he does. You let go of his dick with a sonorous POP, turning to lay next to him, licking your lips clean as you look at his exhausted face.

"Who's the best, Garrick?"

"You are, ma'am."

"Good boy."

thinking about satan's tail telling on him despite how composed he tries to be. it's a wild little appendage, all barbs and sharp edges people usually avoid. it flicks about in irritation, scratches floorboards and furniture like a riled cat when he's aggravated over something or other. when he's calm, it winds around his leg like an obedient pet waiting for its master's command.

but with you? it's a different story.

ankles. wrists. legs. arms. hips, even. the spiney tail has a mind of its own, constantly wrapping around your vulnerable points to keep you tethered to satan's side. he could be mid-argument with one of his imbecile brothers when he stops to recognize a weight tugging somewhere vaguely behind him-- you, barbs poking at your wrist as it keeps you ensnared yet unharmed, smiling sheepishly at him as he grows flustered by the trap he's got you in. one of the brothers gives you a silent thanks before slipping away from what was surely an impending fight.

satan's cheeks are rosy as he gingerly grabs between the links of his tail and tugs. but the damn thing is too partial to you. each tug only finds it tightening its grip on your fragile human skin. after several minutes of various strategies to free you-- yanking, ignoring, even attempting to coax it back to his side-- your delighted giggle makes him flop down on the couch in defeat.

the two of you must come to terms with a simple fact: satan, consciously or not, deems it necessary to keep you by his side.

you were simon's collar, leash of which was in your hands, and you didn't even have to wrap it around your fist and tug, because simon was so devoted to you that being always near and in your sight was something that was in him from the beginning.

simon always defaults to reporting if he goes somewhere, as if asking for permission, despite the fact that he really rarely went to pubs with his teammates from the task force, there always was a mute, hoarse question in the air — “can i go? won' to com' with me, luv?„

his whole appearance shows that he's yours, the way he holds your neat hand tightly in his calloused and wide one, the way he sits you on his broad lap in the middle of the pub at a table, the way he nuzzles into your shoulder or the curve of your neck

the way he's flashing scarlet buds of hickeys left by you on his thick throat or neck, wearing a shirt with short collar.

simon is not afraid to kiss you in public, letting his tongue intertwine with yours in front of other people's eyes extremely greedily, allowing you to tease him with promises of what awaits him at home, while the thick bulge in his pants only grows bigger.

no other girl has time to try to get to know him or his number, catching the moment when you leave to the pub counter, cause simon immediately interrupts any loose attempts with a deep, smoky voice of — “no' a chanc', i'm on a leash her', you sei„

as his dark eyes crinkle and thin lips stretch into a wide, toothy grin, pointing his thumb behind his back, at you, standing and chatting obliviously with the bartender.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

The seven shitty sins

Mammon : I want shit

Levi : I want your shit

Satan : I'm going to wreck shit

Asmo : I'm into some freaky shit

Beel : this is some tasty shit

Belphie : Im to tied to do shit

Lucifer : i am the shit

Different Stories Resonate with Different People

made a gdocs OC sheet for Obey Me, since most of the templates I've seen are for artists and the doc templates are just simple txt files. as usual, it's meant to be for ppl like me who love to add a LOT of text <3

It's here if you'd like to use it! Remember to make your own copy -> File -> Make a copy!

I hate that these anons are being so disrespectful towards you. Like this is literally a gift you are giving us. We as readers are not entitled to any part of you that you are not comfortable giving. People need to realize that there is an actual human being on the other side of their phone and not some fic writing machine that just magically spits out 10k words a week every week. Writing can be so exhausting and frustrating when the words aren’t wording right. You are the most important person in your life (not the shitty anons and not even the kindest of readers) so take care of yourself when you need to. We will be here whenever you’re ready ♡

Yeah, people like that have been a problem since before I was involved in fandom and fanfiction. There's always those that want us to write like machines and just put out a chapter a day, but it doesn't work like that. It's one thing if you're getting paid to write, and something else entirely when it's just a hobby. Life gets in the way, even if you are getting paid to write. Capitalism, consumerism, and AI have only made it worse. People have come to expect just a constant stream of content, but it takes time to put out good content, no matter the medium. There's no patience for quality anymore, and it's sad honestly. People would rather take a constant stream of mediocre every day instead of waiting a week or two for a masterpiece.

I'm just gonna take my time because then I know I'm putting out something I'm going to be happy with, because in the end, that's who I'm writing for. Me. I'm sharing it because I want to. If that anon is so pressed, they can go read published books, or they can just stick with the thousands and thousands of already finished fics that exist. They won't hurt my feelings if they unfollow and never read my works again. In fact, I'd prefer that.

Thank you for your support, love 💚 I appreciate it. You and everyone who have been understanding and supportive in this minor delay.

made a gdocs OC sheet for Obey Me, since most of the templates I've seen are for artists and the doc templates are just simple txt files. as usual, it's meant to be for ppl like me who love to add a LOT of text <3

It's here if you'd like to use it! Remember to make your own copy -> File -> Make a copy!

Imagine MC gets a deadly familiar while down in devildom

Imagine Mc goes for a walk around the devildom after classes one day and they hear a small sound coming from a thorn bush. Inside they find a creature completely made on thorns, bush and beautiful blue devildom roses. There was little flower buds starting to grow along its body, indicating it was still just a cub. Now imagine it took a liking to you and refused to leave your side, clinging to your leg while its thorny tail dug into your ankle. It looks like you have no choice but to take the creature home, it looked so helpless and so looked like it wanted to come with you

Once you bring little Juniper (Little buddies name) home, the reaction from the brothers was something you did not expect. Every single one of them hid behind Lucifer while lucifer held up a chair, apparently this creature excreted spores and flowers lethal to demons. Now the question is, will you keep it?

Temporary Fix! || skirt chaser!Johnny

Rating: E Words: 4.1K~ CW: smut smut smut, a bit of BAD dirty talking, oral sex (m!receiving), protected piv sex, breath play (if you squint), praise kink (lots of 'that's it' + 1 'good girl'). Tags: afab!reader, fat/chubby!reader, you/your pronouns, one-night stand but more like one-week stand. Summary: Johnny's a dog who can't keep it in his pants. a/n: this is for my chubby gals and also for my @crashtestbunny because I wanted her to be able to read this and not have the previous cheating plot in place.

The thing about soldiers… Is that they tend to have lovers. As in, for as long as they stay deployed in a country, they’re bound to get themselves a toy they can have a shag with. Sometimes it’s prostitutes. Sometimes it’s regular women.

This is a lot more common for enlisted soldiers in the Army. The types that get deployed for 9 to 18 months at a time when they're very young, fighting in a war that keeps them far away from home for so long that they “can’t help” but seek affection from local women.

But that’s not to mean Special Forces soldiers, especially those kept on ‘stand by’, always ready for a quick deployment that, at most, lasts a month or two, don’t do it. They do.

John Alistair MacTavish is a grown man, not one of those young lads of 18, recently out basic, who need a whole to bury their cock in or else they'll die. But you wouldn’t think that, seeing as he's constantly seeking out action on the side.

He goes on and on about how childish those stupid recruits are, about some of his old mates who'd shag anything that walks... Only to then leave base with his team to end up at some bar or club in civvy clothes, find a nice bird or bloke (he’s not picky) and go home with them.

A hypocrite, any normal person would call him, a womanizer, a skirt chaser, a player... He’s not above calling himself that. But sometimes he just needs to decompress! That's his excuse anyway. Decompressing. Letting out pent-up aggression. Orgasms are great stress-relievers...

And as useful as his fist is, he’s not a sixteen-year-old anymore, rubbing one out in his bathroom during a quick shower. That just doesn’t cut it anymore. If he has the option to shag someone, why wouldn’t he?

Now that he’s in the 141, the philandering just gets much worse. Whenever they have downtime on a foreign location somewhere, a night free before they return to England, or a night before they get the go-ahead to go on a mission, what have you… He’s out getting himself a shag.

And, worse of all, he brings Gaz along. 

Gaz doesn’t have the same issue, unlike Johnny, he can actually contain himself. Maybe that makes Gaz a bit bad too, because he knows that Soap has a tendency to chase like they owe him money... And he still enables him. He still goes out with his mate and they both get wasted and laid without a care. 

Maybe Gaz doesn’t think it’s his place to intervene, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to.

Camaraderie and all.

That’s how they ended up in a club downtown, flashing lights all around them, loud reggaeton playing through the speakers, men and women around them with more skin on display than they had covered rubbing their bodies, sipping drinks, spilling them over each other… Oh, the wonders of a Colombian night club.

They saw you before you saw them. Kyle tapping at Johnny’s shoulder as their eyes perused the space individually, then, he drew the Scot’s eyes to you, standing with your friends, laughing, drinking, softly swaying to the music. 

Soft curves in a copper-colored dress that left little to the imagination, clinging tight to a round ass and a thick belly, the hem constantly pulled down by your hands, as it insisted on rolling up, up, up, exposing more of your smooth thighs than you wanted it to. 

It didn’t stop you from still rolling your hips to the music, however, turning the fixing of your dress a near impossible task, repetitive, useless, and maddening, Sisyphus-and-his-stone.

Turning to each other, the two sergeants hands shot to the middle of their bodies, a quick rock-paper-scissors ensuing… which Johnny won.

And that’s how you ended up turning around to the sight of a foreigner with the broadest shoulders, thickest arms and pecs, and bluest eyes you’ve ever seen… As well as a mohawk, something you didn’t often see on… anyone, really.

He was a soldier, you could tell, even out of uniform. Not your first time seeing one, this being a city with a military base attached, and certainly not your last time being approached by one.

Oh, how soldiers seem to love fat women. You’ve experienced your fair few, many of them assuming your weight would equal desperation for love and affection, which would result in you accepting a rushed wedding for the sole purpose of getting him out of the barracks. 

But you’re not desperate. Other than for a good lay, maybe.

“Erm… Hola.” The soldier in front of you says, blue eyes locked on your face for a surprisingly respectful amount of time considering the sinful cleavage that this dress and your bra give you. 

His Spanish has the thickest accent you’ve ever heard, meaning he’s not American… But his pronunciation is off, so he’s clearly an English speaker. Though he’s not English either, you can tell.

“I speak English. Hi.” You told him, watching as he let out a little sigh of relief. Then, the corner of his mouth popped up in a dirty little smirk. 

“Well, tha’ makes it easier. Hi.” He replied. “I saw ye from over there… Was wonderin’ if I can buy ye a drink?” He offered. Only then did he allow his blue eyes to slither down, down, down, trailing every inch of your exposed skin down to the black ankle booties you’re wearing, thick, square heels to prevent your hamstrings from feeling the pain of stilettos the next morning.

“Why?” You decided to ask him with a cocked brow, forcing his eyes to shoot upward to meet your face again, locking onto yours with a surprised expression.

“Why, what, pretty thing?” He replied, his own brows, thick, straight, rising up to meet his hairline. He’s confused, his eyes blinking a bit. His intentions had been clear as day. Obvious enough for you to pick up on, but you’re playing dumb, or maybe hard to get. 

“Why do you wanna buy me a drink?” You asked him as you dipped your head to the side, your eyes slowly trailing over every inch of his handsome face. Those blue eyes of his are locked on you, pupils slightly dilated, hands hanging off his hips, fingers looped onto the belt loops of his jeans.

“Because you’re proper beautiful.” He replied. Your cocked brow and unimpressed glances up and down, cause him to continue. “And I’d love to take you home, find out what you’ve got on under that dress, and make sure your neighbors hate you from today onward.”

His words are crude, his voice loud and crass, disregarding the public space you’re in, the fact that there are others around, not just your friends, but complete strangers too. Maybe he’s hoping they won’t understand English. But they do. Hell, your girlfriends look at you and exchange coy looks with you, before them, and you, break into a fit of giggles.

He looks at them, noticing they caught what he said, even through the loud music, but then looks at you again. “So? What do you say?” His brogue is getting easier and easier to listen to with every word he says.

Rolling your head to the side, your squint your eyes at him and then shrug. “Do you have to buy me a drink for that?” You challenge him, your eyes snapping back and forth between his own, almost taunting him with your inquiry.

“Not if you don’t want to.” He tells you, eyes lit ablaze and a smirk on his lips.

So, you simply grab him by the arm, bid farewell to your friends, with a wave, and grab your clutch from the table, before dragging him out of the club.

Johnny was expecting a flat, a home, maybe even a university dorm room considering your age. What a surprise it came to him to find you taking him up to a hotel. Not that he’d complain when he noticed the large king-sized bed and the large view, providing a beautiful view of the illuminated city of Cartagena.

His hands were on your broad hips before you even got to closing the door, his mouth clashing onto yours as he pushed you against the wall by the door, calloused hands already sliding over the slinky fabric of your silky dress, tugging it up, so they could slip underneath.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, wet and drooling, saliva traded between your mouths as his strong fingers caught hold of a greedy handful of your ass, digging into the supple flesh and groaning in delight at just the feeling of you at his fingertips.

Your own hands already slid up and around his torso, feeling him up through the fabric of his t-shirt, before sliding down to pull the navy blue fabric out of its tuck into his jeans, rolling it up to expose a strong, bulky body covered in a generous amount of body hair.

Your lips broke apart for a moment, only long enough for you to take off his shirt, tossing it onto an armchair in the corner, and for him to unzip the side-zipper of your dress, taking it off you too.

Then, he grabbed you around the thighs, causing you to shriek, as he bounded for the bed, dropping you so hard onto it you almost swore you’d bounce off. Still wearing his jeans, he slotted himself between your parted thighs, his body bending over yours.

His stubble scratched your neck as he kissed you all over, licking stripes of your skin as his hands pulled off your boots, unfastened your bra… They were surprisingly nimble for such a hulking man. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Johnny cooed as he let his eyes run down your body.

He dragged his mouth down from your neck, across you clavicle, over one of your breasts, and caught your nipple between his teeth, beginning to suck on it, noticing how you hissed a bit, leaning back on your elbows as he did so.

One of his hands caught your other breast, grabbing and carefully kneading it between his fingers, as his eyes shot up to your face, blue irises beneath a pair of dark eyelashes, fluttering slowly as his pupils blew out from how horny he was. His other hand found your black panties and pulled them aside, (more so ripped them with how aggressive he pulled on them), the rough and calloused pads of his fingers catching your lips immediately and beginning to slide up and down, running over your slit.

The moment his cracked fingertips grazed your clit, you whined, your legs spreading apart even more, your body jumping a bit. “Fuck…” You grumbled under your breath, your eyes locked on his face and the way he eagerly played with your nipple. 

“Relax.” Johnny told you once he let go of your nipple. Then, he rolled his tongue around in his mouth, collecting some saliva, before letting it drip onto your slit, his fingers catching it and spreading it quickly as he resumed playing with your clit, hand craning in order to push a finger inside.

“Oh fuck…” You moaned softly, hips bucking up against his hand, following his ministrations as he pushed a second finger inside of you and hooked them up to graze your g-spot, pumping them in and out, the rugged feel of his cracked fingertips drawing a surprisingly pleasant sensation of pleasure from the depths of your soul.

His other hand moved away from your breasts in order to undo his belt, leaving it to hang around his waist as he also undid his jeans, sliding them and his boxer briefs down one-handed, in order to allow his cock to spring free.

Your eyes lock onto it as he continues fingering you, a bit sloppy and rough, his palm pressed to your clit and his fingers constantly drawing a ‘come hither’ motion inside your wet walls.

His cock is stubby, shorter than some of the men you’ve been with, but so thick you can’t help but wonder just how he’ll make it fit inside of you, and how straining the stretch of it will be. It’s heavy too, uncut, hanging down even while already full-mast, too heavy to spring back against his belly button. His balls are heavy too, full, round and strained as he continues to play with you, watching your reactions to his touch.

“You like what you see, huh?” He asks you, noticing the way your eyes don’t slip far from his cock before returning to it, watching it lay against one of your smooth thighs, the ruddy color and constant twitching only bringing more attention it as it rubs against your skin, dripping pre-cum over your stretch marks.

“Mhm…” You reply softly as your hand reaches down to tug at it, carefully wrapping around it and drawing it up and down over his length, only letting go to cup his taut balls and fondle them a few times.

“Tha’s it…” He murmurs and hisses under his breath as he looks you right in the eyes. “Wanna be good f’r me?” He coos at you, and you nod in reply as you bite your lip. “How about you get on your knees and let me see how you suck me off, hm?”

Nodding, you untangle yourself from around him, his fingers slipping out of you, as you took your spot on the floor, the soldier having been caring enough to toss a pillow from the bed onto the floor to cushion your knees.

He sits on the edge of the bed, strong, muscular thighs spread open, as you sunk your mouth onto him, without so much as a second’s worth of hesitation. The stretch as you tried to swallow as much of him as you can tugged at the corners of your mouth, making them feel a bit sore, your jaw already protesting at the size of him. But that doesn’t stop you.

You start lapping at the underside of his cock eagerly, wetting him as much as possible to make sure you could continue taking him down your throat. The sounds he was making were sinful, low groans and grunts, hissing through his teeth, one hand carefully fisting the bed covers.

He carefully gathered your hair away from your face, gripping it one handed. “Tha’s it… Greedy thign you are, wanna take all of my fat cock in your mouth, hm?” He goaded a bit as he looked down at you between his legs.

Any other time, any other place, any other man, you’d already be pulling off him, getting dressed, telling him to fuck off… But something in this soldier’s voice, in his accent, the growl behind his voice, the spark in his eyes… 

Maybe you are just desperate for a good lay with the thickest cock you’ve ever seen… But you don’t complain. You simply nod at him and bobbed your head even more enthusiastically, lips struggling to glide up and down his length, spread open sinfully to accommodate his size.

“Tha’s a good girl…” He praises, his free hand coming to grip you at the back of your neck, tugging you slowly, forward, to make you swallow more of him down into your throat, making you gag and sputter on his length, sloppily drooling around the size of him, saliva drooling down your chin and onto the carpeted floor of your hotel room.

“Pretty fucking thing… Gonna make that make-up run, hm?” He offers as he pulled you off and back onto his cock, moving your head for you. “Show some attention to that pretty pussy of yours, go on.” He demands, causing you to nod.

One of your hands found your wet slit between your legs, sliding two fingers inside, which felt like not nearly enough after having had his own, and considering the fat cock that would soon replace them, but you’d make do. 

“Both hands, don’t be coy now.” He added. Your eyes widen, already anticipating the loss of balance that’d come from the lack of support from your free hand holding you up on the bed. But you do as you’re told, trying your best to keep a perch on your knees as your other hand starts slowly padding at your clit, rolling circles with it.

When you inevitably lose balance, as you knew you would, the soldier simply pulls you forward against him, making you bury your nose against his pelvis, swallowing his cock in its entiry, causing you to choke and gag, trying to catch a breath through your nose. He, in turn, lets out a loud groan of delight, eyes rolling back, as he feels the warm wetness of your throat.

“Keep your hands where they are.” He demands of you, preventing you from trying to pull away and find balance again with your hands on the bed or the floor or his thighs. You can barely do much more than nod against his hip.

He hooks a leg over your shoulder, pinning you close to him, while his hips begin to rock into your mouth, blindly and sloppily, making you gag more and more, more saliva slipping down from your parted lips, making a mess of him and yourself. “Tha’s it… yeah… just what I fuckin’ needed… Such a good girl f’r me…” He grunts as his hand swipes your hair out of your face as it slips from his grip.

“You like this?” He asks you as he abuses your mouth and your throat, while you sputter and try to fruitlessly breathe between each thrust of his into your throat. Nodding pathetically, mouth to full to speak, you whimper against him, making him shiver and shudder. “Of course you do… greedy fuckin’ mouth…”

He only pulls you off him after another couple of minutes, which felt like an eternity, allowing you to catch your breath only for long enough for him to pull you onto the bed, bending you over at the hips, presenting your round ass to him.

“Mmmmm, look at you…” He grunts out as he ruts his cock between your ass cheeks while tugging your head back at the scalp, causing your back to arch ever so slightly, your tits still pressed against the bed covers. “Round fuckin’ arse… Gonna love see it jiggle f’r me…”

He lets go of you again for a moment only to paw at your ass cheeks with one hand, while the other blindly looks for his wallet in his jeans. “Find me a condom, will ye?” He asks as he tosses the leather wallet next to your head, while he steps out of his jeans, underwear and boots, finally.

While looking for the little clip pocket containing them, you spot his military identification very briefly. It makes you realize you didn’t even ask him his name… Nor did he ask for yours. A green and white striped card titled ‘British Army’, with the name ‘John MacTavish’ and some extra info you don’t really pay attention to. John. That’s his name…

Once you pass him one of the silver wrappers, Johnny rips it open and puts on the slick condom quickly, barely waiting a moment before slipping himself inside of you, down to the hilt in one swift motion. You find yourself squirming against the bed covers with a whine, while he groans loudly behind you.

Although the stretch was still wildly bigger than any other man you’ve been with before, it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as you expected it too… probably because you were wetter and more eager than you expected.

He starts rutting inside of you immediately, huffing through clenched teeth as his big hands grip your ass cheeks and keep you spread open. His fingers dig deeply onto your extra fat, squeezing and kneading it, his blue eyes glued to the way your puffy lips part and stretch to swallow him whole. “Beautiful fuckin’ sight…”

“Fuck… Just like that… Don’t stop…” You beg him and whine loudly, fisting the white bed covers and digging your nails into them, your face resting on them sideways, sliding back and forth with each thrust of his.

You’re sure the hotel staff is going to have a field day washing the duvet, your make-up already staining the white fluffy fabric, sliding down with the sweat, and dragging across with each motion of your head.

You can barely speak or think, moaning in turn with him, each thrust of his causing you to croon and whimper in delight, his fat cock hitting you at every possible angle and rubbing every inch of your walls, the veins dragging against your g-spot, the condom barely there.

“Yeah… ye like tha’? Huh? Ye like it?” He coos at you, already slightly out of breath, hips barelling against your plump ass, making it jiggle as he bounces himself off them.

“Oh, fuck yes…!” You whine loudly. His hands slide up to find your hip, pushing you down against the mattress so he can shift more of his weight onto you, pumping at a downward angle, causing you to shriek desperately.

“Oh yeah…” Johnny grunts and starts huffing atop you, leaning all his weight atop of you as he pounds his hips against yours, his breath ragged against your shoulder and hair. “Fuck… Yer cunts feels so fuckin’ good…” He murmurs in your ear, his thick accent becoming.

“Oh, God…” You whimper, shuddering beneath him, feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach, each of his strong thrusts rattling every fiber of your being. “John…”

“Oh… tha’s it… Moan my name…” He orders as one of his hands suddenly shoots up and grips you by the back of the neck. “Moan my name…” He insists as he throws his hips down onto yours.

“John!” You call out, doing as you’re told, panting for air as he pushes your face harder into the mattress, slowing his thrusts down and bottoming out inside you each time at a slower pace.

Good thing he did too… Because the knot in your stomach only tightens more and more and more, and then snaps, making you cry out loudly with a choked moan that gets half-caught in your throat as your walls suddenly clamp down around him, tightening the grip on his fat shaft.

“Oh fuck…” Johnny grunts and picks up the pace again, grasp your hip as hard as his hands can, a bruising grip that’ll definitely leave a mark, as he pounds into your weeping cunt again and again and again…

He finally comes, losing his balance and landing on his elbows and forearms on either side of your body, his chest against your back, out of breath, as much as you, even though you feel like you barely did anything other than take him.

“Fuck… I needed that…” He grumbles under his breath as he speaks against your shoulder blade, before leaning up and biting at your earlobe. “That feel good f’r ye?” He whispers in your ear, an earnest question, receiving a little nod from you. “Good…”

Slowly, he pulled himself up, slipping his softening cock from you and rolling the condom off. “So… how long are ye and yer friends stayin’ here?” He asks you nonchalantly while tying off the condom.

“Are you trying to make small talk…?” You ask him, surprised that you can even find a voice or string together a coherent sentence in the aftermath of that. You try your best to drag yourself up and over onto the bed, and once you succeed, you look at him languidly.

“No. I have a reason to ask.” He assures you as he tosses the condom into the paper bin under the desk in the corner, before shuffling back over to you on the bed, lying lazily next to you, an arm behind his head, the other on his stomach.

“Four more days.” You tell him, and he nods at the reveal of information. You roll your head to the side to look at him, both of your bodies sweaty and sticky, your make-up undoubtedly a mess, not that he shows it in the way he looks at you… And even if he did, he’d likely only show pride at making you look like that.

“Well… I’m comin’ to pay ye a visit every night until then.” He tells you, before wrapping his free arm around you, pulling you close. “I plan on gettin’ that tight cunny wrapped around my cock fer as long as I can.”

yes, this is a repost of the original "Temporary Fix." but without the cheating :)

Please reblog if you think that “they/them/theirs” is a valid set of pronouns.

this post must be reblogged by everyone

I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

--

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

a not so lonely shower - 👻 🧼🧢

his favorite sergeants don’t seem to realize that ghost is in the next stall over (but between you and me, they know. and they want him to hear 🤭)

CLOSE UP CAUSE LOOK ST HIS TUMMY!!!! I WANNA CHEW AND NAW ON HIM

all tied up 😏💕

Wrong Number, Right Day

Chapter One: Good Deed of the Day

Gaz x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 526 words

Summary: Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day.

Notes: I wrote this on my phone on breaks in between jobs. No editing.

Kyle groaned as he body refused to relax. His muscles still tight and tense, despite the flight home and the bar with the others. The piss poor alcohol had done nothing to ease Kyle’s stresses either. He ignored the constant buzzing of his phone on the table. Soap was probably sending updates on whether or not he’d managed to make any leeway with Ghost.

Soap had been trying to get in the Lieutenant’s pants for a while now. Kyle could tell by watching that Ghost was interested but never made a move. The little ways he took care of Soap. Making sure he was get checked out by medical. Doing check ins while at the safe house. Getting water and food into him. Subtly touching his shoulder when stressed. All these little things, and some alcohol, led Kyle to stupidly mention all of it to Soap.

So now the man was determined to get Ghost ti break first. Another buzz of his phone finally annoyed Kyle enough that he reached for it. Of course he had like 16 texts from Soap. As he opened his phone he noticed one was from a number he didn’t recognize. Opening the text he blinked stupidly at the text.

Unknown: Seriously Kyle I need the rest of the money.

Who the hell was it? Probably a wrong number. Cause the only person he owed money was Ghost. And he was letting him cover the next round of drinks instead. Kyle quickly started to type a response when Soap sent him another message making his phone buzz and Kyle’s alcohol fuzzy brain was spooked. His finger slipped across the phone.

Kyle: Sorry w

Shit. He’d hit send to early. Before he could respond again he got a flurry of texts.

Unknown: please

Unknown: kyle

Unknown: he said he’ll kick us ouyr

Unknown: *out

Unknown: im already working thre jobs just to cover what you can’t

Unknown: im not trying to make you feel bad but i cant afford food for a few weeks to cover this

Unknown: and don’t ask me to not feed your dog again

Unknown: he has to eat kyle

Whoever this Kyle was, he sounded like a fucking prick. This poor thing busting their ass just to get by. And to not feed his own dog? Kyle pulled up his bank real quick. As long as it wasn’t ridiculous, he could probably afford to send some money.

Kyle: How much?

Unknown: thak uo!!!!!

Unknown: just the last $250 and then well b god

Unknown: *good

Unknown: u still have my link?

Kyle: Please send it again.

Unknown: here ya go

Kyle: Sent $500

Unknown: what no! i just needed the rent!

Unknown: you need money for food!

Unknown: kyle take the other back!

Unknown: kyle!!!

Kyle: For your troubles. Going to sleep. Goodnight, love.

Kyle leaned back against the couch, his body finally releasing all of its tension. For some reason being able to help someone in a tangible way made him feel better. He could hear the buzzing of his phone but it lulled him into a soft sleep now instead of annoying him.