💌🫀🦷

the woke left: young and fashionable. visible tattoos. often enjoys matcha, lavender flavoring, oat milk, and cold foam. pretty decent customers.

sweet old man: drinks very sweet iced lattes, pays in cash, puts all of his change in the tip jar. sometimes orders hot coffee and i get scared that his shaky old man hands will spill it and he'll get burned but that has not yet happened and god willing never shall.

evil old man: only wants drip coffee and declares it ridiculous that any other form of coffee exists. some variants only want americanos and these variants are even scarier. watch out.

sweet old woman: might need her daughter's help to order but is very bubbly and open to trying new things. compliments baristas freely and frequently.

evil old woman: does not want coffee and only wants sweet tea or soda. will not tip even if she spends three hours in the shop repeatedly asking baristas to fetch things for her.

errand husband: either stiltedly recites an order to you or shows you the order in their texts/notes app. needs to step out of line and make a phone call if you ask any follow-up questions.

grindset girlie: always wearing scrubs, an apron, and/or a name tag. orders the exact same thing every day and knows the exact change she'll need to pay for it. her regular order is both extremely caffeinated and extremely sweet.

#mamabear: is actively wrangling two to four children while ordering. order changes repeatedly because the children cannot decide if they want a muffin or a cookie or apple juice or chocolate milk etc. for some reason these women are always wearing an article of clothing or carrying some personalized item that says "mama" on it.

schoolchildren: band of two to eight adolescents hanging out after school. extremely indecisive but generally quite polite and tip well.

amnesiac in love: grown adult who needs their partner to tell them what they like. gets asked a question about their own preferences and turns to their partner to answer for them. generally acts like a shy child looking to their guardian for behavioral cues if you try to interact with them and only wants to talk to mommy i mean their wife.

It is an actual crime to me that I have yet to see someone write Ghost getting fucked while someone has his balaclava turned around on his head!

Him fighting back despite you knowing he obviously wants it so with one hand grasping his shirt the other is grasping at his face, gripping the mask and turning it little by little!!

It took Laswell a long time to get used to the idea that you loved going down on her. That you relished the feel of her cunt on your tongue, her soft thighs and how they hold you tight in your place between them, as if you'd ever give up the tart ambrosia her sex had to offer.

Wrapping your arms under her thighs and holding, squeezing her hips feels like a hug, like coming home.

"Gooood girl, sweet girl," Laswell sighs, gentle fingers petting your head as you settle into your place, knelt before her chair. Nosing her sensible cotton panties to the side and holding them there with fingers hooked in the elastic so you can suck her into your mouth.

The soft praise melts into a low, needy groan. It makes you feel good to make her feel good- little pinpricks of pleasure traveling down your spine at how quickly Laswell melts into your ministrations. You flex and straighten your tongue, diving between her lips.

The world goes quiet as Laswell's thighs squeeze together involuntarily, your ears fully covered. You peek and can see her hands are now at her sides, squeezed into trembling fists.

"Taste so good f'me," you moan and pant against her clit.

Lips never leaving her pussy, the words just had to escape you. You mean it. She tastes like fucking heaven. Not like chocolates or strawberries or whatever else shitty romance books might imagine up- Laswell tastes like sex. She tastes like salty hedonism and tangy pleasure and musky atonement and she tastes like the fucking love of your life.

Her hips buck up at your words, your voice, your praise. She gives a weak gasp, her eyelids heavy as she looks down at you with a dizzy smile. You meet her gaze with a flat tongue wiping up her cunt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to-" Laswell's words are cut short when you repeat the motion. Your entire world is narrowed down to Laswell, how your nose feels being buried against her light blonde thatch of hair. "Know how to drive me crazy honey."

Drawing her clit into your mouth again, you can feel her thighs flex again when she notices your fingers dipping into her pussy. Just two fingers gliding in up to the first knuckle and out with ease, teasing.

Due to being past menopause, it takes much longer for Laswell to warm up to being penetrated, even by fingers. She's also got the refractory period of about two business days, so she usually prefers just one orgasm. Usually. Most of the time like this you make her cum before you get to the point of fucking her, which you're fine with as long as she's happy.

With your tongue swirling around her clit and the smell of her heavy in the air and- fucking hell- the sounds she's making like you're hand delivering her a slice of heaven- you're moaning yourself, sound vibrating against the sensitive bud.

"Honey, I'm close-"

Your tongue doesn't stop swirling her clit, but you open your mouth again, panting.

"Yea?" You ask, the words sounding loose from your numb libs and occupied tongue.

"F-fuck, yeah-" Her hips are bucking erratically now, chasing the swiftly approaching release that has her eyes falling closed entirely.

Your fingers leave her hole, instead taking the place of your tongue. You know how to work her, it doesn't interrupt her descent into madness.

"Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Please, please, please..." Your voice is hoarse, desperate. Like it mattered more to you that she finished than it did to her. "Cum for me, please, lemme see it."

You can see the tendons in her arms flexing as she grips her chair, see how her entire body tenses and relaxes in these slow pulses, crashing waves growing stronger with every circle drawn by your fingers on her clit. She's there, she's teetering at the edge, and you're like a dog wagging your tail looking at a treat in your master's hand.

"Please," You whine, pussydrunk and enraptured at the sight of her. "Please mommy, cum-"

If her mouth hadn't slammed shut, she might have openly screamed. Her knees crash together as her body shakes, her head thrown back. When she returns to you, looking down with heavy drunken eyes, you can tell immediately she isn't done.

"Bed, now." She's breathless.

You don't snark back. You don't question. You're like her personal little soldier, following every order to the letter. You're also so pent up that you don't have much blood flow going to your brain to think of doing anything other than obedience. It's quickly rewarded, it's how you end up with Laswell moaning prettily on your lap, her fingers circling her clit as she slowly sinks herself down on you.

You keep your hands to yourself, letting Laswell take her time. The sight is entertainment of it's own, the flush in her cheeks intoxicating. Every little huff of breath making her chest rise and fall in turn making your mouth water. The crazed woman didn't even bother taking off those panties of hers, just shoved them to the side. Impatient, perfect minx. The lighting perfectly highlighted the gorgeous stretch marks on her hips and breasts, your eyes raking in every inch where you wanted your tongue.

"Say it again," Laswell directed.

price x reader .... dark content / noncon / kidnapping

Okay I love ex husband Price as much as the next person but also consider, slightly more fucked up: widower Price. He handles it really, really well, all things considered. His beautiful young wife, Rosemary, died in his arms from a terminal illness. They knew it was coming, had been for a long time. It was a good death, as good as one can be but it was still too soon and it broke something in Price.

He takes a few months off to grieve, to pack Rose's things away and clean their house. Goes to therapy, walks through every step that has been laid out for him that is meant to guide him to "getting better". It works.

aRE YOU KIDDING ME?????

God, this is glorious. And terrifying. And hot. And so depressing. But like, in a good, hot, Price way. The desperation. The horror. The relief. The pain. The uncertainty. Gah. I need 26 more stat. I need the boys to think he’s crazy. I need the boys to make sure “Rose” will NEVER leave their Captain. I need Rose to slowly accept their fate…especially because how can they be a single parent after Price is done with them??????

more ideas coming below bc you got the brain worms WRIGGLING

Like it is so great his boyfriend is hung beyond belief. Ghost fucks him good with it, of course Soap likes it. Except for when it makes him extremely dysphoric. Soap got a little growth with T, he's proud of it, makes him feel good, but whenever Ghost slides his cock against Soap's- his thing isn't even as big as Ghost's fat, leaking head. Makes Soap's stomach sink, kills his mood a little.

When he tells Ghost this, Ghost doesn't verbally respond. Just makes Soap stand with his back against Ghost's chest- "I don't think a fucking is gonna fix this, Lt-" spreads his legs. Ghost is hard, Soap can feel it against his back, and he pushes it down between his legs.

Doesn't try and make it catch on either of Soap's holes, just flexes his hips forward further so his cock stuck out from between Soap's legs. A few inches stick out, Soap looking down at it.

"Stroke it like it's yours, pup." The command is soft.

At first Soap doesn't understand why Ghost is having him do this, awkwardly starting to stroke at the visible length. But he gets off to Ghost getting off, can hear Ghost start to quietly grunt. His palm starts to get sticky with how wet Ghost's cock is getting. Feels his own cock pressed against Ghost's, getting friction but hidden from Soap's view.

Then it hits him. It looks like he's stroking off his own cock. As if Ghost's was his. It hits Soap like a freight train, his mouth falling open to groan as his eyes fix with new passion at his own hand pumping up and down Ghost's- no, Soap's cock.

"That's it, good boy. You gonna make yourself cum f'me?" Ghost's got his hands on Soap’s hips, rubbing encouraging circles while his mouth nips and licks at his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah, Lt, 'm close-"

And he is. Can see Ghost’s his cock swell, head shiny and angry red, feels that reflected in his own body, how his core tightened as he grew closer.

Soap bites off a curse when he times his orgasm perfectly, throbbing in time with the cock in his hand that's spurting rope after rope.

Fem Soap does it because she is a u-haul lesbian just being held back by you and/or her commanding officers (they just don’t want to do the paperwork for spousal support and what not when y’all haven’t even dated a month yet) (she blames it on being catholic. It’s not. She’s just a freak who wants her wife to fuck day in and day out)

Fem Price only does it in her head, but she started doing it ok like the second date and is just waiting for her costumized ring order to come through. She’s gonna a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly before the second year anniversary if it kills her.

Fem ghost does it because she owns you (and you own her).

Anon please know you own my heart for this ask... you get me....

Literally thinking about denying Ghost an orgasm for so long just because he's so strong and domineering but he's sooo much more obedient, you wanna see how long he will choose to be good and listen to you when you tell him he can't cum! He ends up with a painful erection and heavy balls every day over and over because he's so good for you and you are so mean :((

When he's fucking you, sure he could ignore your commands for him to stop, keep snapping his hips up into you the way you like until he's finally got the release he's craving... but he won't. Ghost is built for breeding- from his fat cock to his big barrell shaped body. He watches how your eyes sparkle with mischief with your order, his body going entirely rigid mid-thrust.

"I'm done," you say. "That's all, go clean yourself up, Si."