🕸️

Alex Keller

— Submissive Alex x dominant M!Reader, mission gone wrong, sex pollen → 3995 words 🍋 — Dominant Alex x submisive M!Reader, reunion sex, comfort sex, wine and dine → 2055 words 🍋 + 💀 + ❤️ — Service top Alex x submissive M!Reader, reunion sex, comfort sex → 1504 words 🍋 + 💀 + ❤️ — Submissive Alex x dominant FTM!Reader, dumbification, puppy play, pegging → 1069 words 🍋 + 💀 — Submissive Alex x dominant M!Reader, anxiety, massages, messy sex, mild tantric sex → 596 words 🍋 + 💀

* Price + Alex

— Submissive Price x dominant Alex x dominant M!Reader, first time subspace, comfort sex, undernegotiated kink, blindfolds,  → 1626 words 🍋 + 💀 + ❤️

Cpt. John Price

— Dominant Price x submissive M!Reader, tramp stamp, slut shaming, breeding, sparring → 898 words 🍋 — Switch FTM!Price x switch FTM!Reader, t4t, clit pumping, overstim → 914 words 🍋 — Power bottom FTM!Price x service top M!Reader, overstim → drabble HC list 🍋 — Power bottom FTM!Price x service top M!Reader, riding → 362 words 🍋 — Dominant Price x submissive gen M!Reader, life affirming sex → drabble HC list 🍋 — Dominant daddy Price x submissive gen M!Reader, reunion sex, oral fixation → drabble HC list 🍋 — Dominant Price x submissive gen M!Reader, breeding kink → 597 words, HC list 🍋 — Dominant Price x submissive burlesque dancer M!Reader, situationship, love confession → 1863 words 🍋 + 💀 + ❤️ — Service top Price x power bottom M!Reader, tantric sex, body worship → 1844 words 🍋 + 💀

* Price + Ghost

— Dominant daddy Price x dominant Ghost x submissive FTM!Reader, near-death, comfort sex → 2511 words 🍋 + 💀 — Dominant daddy Price x dominant Ghost x submissive M!Reader, womb tattoo, breeding kink, part 2 → 646 words 🍋

Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley

— “Ghost Pains” submissive Ghost x dominant M!Reader, distraction from pain, rimming, fingering → 1497 words 🍋 — Dominant Ghost x submissive M!Reader, jealous/possessive sex → 1800 words 🍋 — Dominant Ghost x submissive FTM!Reader, consensual drugged sex, semi-public sex → 1570 words 🍋

* Ghost + Soap

— HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: Dominant Ghost x submissive M!Reader x dominant Soap, heavy cnc roleplay, gunplay, somnophilia, virginity kink → 1892 words 🍋 — Dominant Ghost x dominant daddy Soap x submissive FTM!Reader, dumbification, breeding kink, throat fucking → 507 words 🍋 — Submissive Ghost x submissive Soap x dominant dogboy!Reader, knotting, overstim, breeding kink → 686 words 🍋 — Dominant daddy Soap x dominant Ghost x submissive M!Reader, daddy kink, aftercare → 938 words, HC list 🍋 + ❤️

Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

— Submissive Soap x dominant GenM!Reader, overstimulation, oral sex, dubious consent → 296 words 🍋 — “Scottish Whiskey” Service top Soap x power bottom FTM!Reader, skirts and kilts, body worship, praise kink → 422 words 🍋 + ❤️ — “PARASITE: Part I” Soap x M!Reader + Poly 141, jealousy → 1776 words 🔥 + 💀 — “PARASITE: Part II” submissive Soap x dominant M!Reader + Poly 141, jealousy, punishment, humiliation → 2090 words 🍋 + 💀 — Soap x M!Reader, unhealthy relationship, arguing → 1575 words 💀 + 🔥 — Dominant Soap x submissive FTM!Reader, bunny outfit, breeding kink → 608 words 🍋 — “Soap Pun” Dominant Soap x FTM!Reader, coming out, pussy worship → 1892 words 🍋

* Valeria + Soap

— “The Jaguar and the Rabbit” dominant Valeria x submissive Soap x submissive M!Reader, dubious consent, cuckholding, pain play → 1503 words 🍋

Cpl. Alejandro Vargas

— Dominant alpha Alejandro x submissive omega pakistani FTM!Reader, A/B/O dynamic, jealous/possessive sex → 1711 words 🍋 — Dominant Alejandro x submissive FTM!Reader, primal play, minor consensual non-consent, breeding kink → 991 words 🍋

* Other

You pull away for air, staring up at him as you both pant for breath. The bass of the club vibrates you to the core, rattling your bones and shaking the walls around you. It makes the arousal already thundering through your blood that much more potent.

You move forward, arch up to try and pull Simon into another kiss only for him to slam you back against the door once again. His pupils are blown voids of black, kiss swollen lips still parted as he studies your face for a moment before fumbling for something in his pocket. He pulls out an orange vial, twisting the cap off and shaking out a pill he quickly throws back, swallowing with a wet click before he takes out another, holding it between his pointer and forefinger as he presses it to your lips, dram discarded to the sticky floor.

A rumbling groan rattles in his chest as your lips part and he easily slips the small tablet onto your tongue. You let your lips wrap around the digits, sucking them further into your mouth as you swallow the bitter pill down before it can dissolve. 

You bob your head up and down the length of his thick fingers, skin bitter with spilt beer, your eyes fluttering up at him. He looks wrecked, eyes bloodshot and dark. He palms himself with his free hand, cock trapped by only a layer of denim, having gone commando. The zipper of his trousers bites into the loose skin of his cock with each stroke and has him biting his lip to muffle his deep, trembling moans.

You bite down on his fingers teasingly, earning a growl. He pulls his fingers free to instead encase your throat with his big palm, towering over you as he presses his lips to yours once again. The hand groping himself instead moves to your belt, steady and precise in his movements in a way you know will start to grow clumsy as the drugs kick in. 

His slightly calloused fingers dip past your waistband, two fingers swiping through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers just to bring them to his mouth, licking at the sticky fluid like nectar as he holds your wanton gaze. 

You blink and Ghost’s hands are on your hips, yanking your jeans down your thighs before hoisting you up. You yelp as he simultaneously drops to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face into your dripping cunt. He licks at the tight furl of your hole, teasing the tip of his tongue past the twitching muscle before he laps a messy line up to your pussy. 

He’s caught between deep animal groans and desperate moans as he tastes you on his tongue, drinking your slick down like a chaser to his bitter pill before suctioning his lips around your cocklet and sucking hard, making you cry out and grip at his short cropped hair, slick with sweat.

He lets out an honest to God whimper at the sensation of your nails clawing at his scalp, sending an electric tingling down his spine directly to his throbbing cock. 

The haziness of whatever he fed you comes over you like a sudden brain fog, legs shaking and head rolling back on your shoulders as your inhibitions drop and your pleasure spikes. He rumbles a curse against your cunt, managing to pull one leg of your trousers down over your boot so it hangs from your ankle before repositioning you so your legs are wrapped around his waist, the way he so easily manhandles you making you dizzy as he carries you over to the sink. 

The porcelain digs uncomfortably into your lower back but you barely register the feeling past the haze of arousal, each point of contact with Simon’s overheated body creating a pleasant hum beneath your skin. 

He mindlessly humps his still trapped bulge against your mound with a moan, panting against your mouth, too far gone to properly kiss as your slick stains the light colored denim. His dark eyes are hazed over, and he visibly has to fight with himself just to maintain coordination long enough to get his own belt undone, shoving his jeans down only far enough to free his aching cock.

The length of it throbs from neglect, slick with precum that weeps from the bulbous, flushed tip. His foreskin’s drawn back in his erect state, and you can see red marks along the sensitive skin where his zipper had been pinching him.

You reach down to stroke him even as he presses forward, letting his thick cock slide through your puffy, slick folds, the tip nudging your own little cock with each rock of his hips. You’re entranced by the way his foreskin slides up and down his prick, enveloping his cockhead each time you stroke up, twisting your fist around the ridge the way you know he likes, the way that makes his hips buck. 

He sucks and bites at the expanse of your throat, muffling his moans into your skin even as they resonate with the deep bass pounding through the brick walls around you. He's hunched over your body, moving one of your arms up to bury his face against your pit, huffing the musk that's gathered from the overwarm club and the stifling body heat it contains.

You guide his cock down to the entrance of your cunt and he shifts to bite down on your shoulder, holding you down like a bitch to breed as he rams his length into you with one harsh shove forward. 

He presses flush to you, arms wrapped too tight around your torso as he pounds into your sopping pussy, making it hard to breathe, the lewd slapping of his heavy sac against your arse aided by the slick that leaks down to coat the fine blond pubic hair.

His hands palm across your back, nails digging into your skin intermittently and making you jolt with the sharp biting pain that accompanies it. The both of your moans are loud and unrestrained, bouncing and echoing within the porcelain tiled bathroom. If you had enough brain cells left to rub together you might realize Simon brought you to a club as loud as this one for a reason.

He leans back, moving one hand to squeeze a bruise onto your waist and the other to cup the side of your neck, his own spine arching as he gyrates his hips, moving helplessly and mindlessly to the resonating beat, pace deep and bruising. You swear his cockhead kisses the plug of your womb with each brutal thrust, digging into the limits of your cunt. The pain-pleasure blends intangibly, punching out airy moans from your lungs with each shove in. 

Ghost rumbles, leans back over and moves the hand from your waist to thumb at your engorged clit, circling the large nub with practiced motions as his hips stutter, his usual sniper precision made sloppy in his drugged out haze.

“Gonna let daddy breed this boy-cunt?” he speaks, growling, for the first time since he pulled you from your seat to drag you in here. His voice is deep and gravelly and wet, barely able to keep himself cognizant enough to keep the drool from dripping past his lips.

“Please!” You moan out, clawing uselessly at whatever skin you can reach. He barely pulls his cock free with each desperate thrust, pounding ruthlessly into you with only minute twitches of his hips. His thumb still rubs maddeningly over your cock.

A rough callous catches on your hypersensitive tip and you jolt, back arching and cunt clenching down hard as you cum. You realize somewhere in the back of your pleasure-stricken mind that you're squirting on his cock, unable to tell if your mouth falling open in a scream is really silent or not.

Simon’s own hips stutter and he cums with a broken shout, pumping his load into you with jilted movements like he’s trying to fuck it deeper into you. Even when the rippling, arrhythmic fluttering of your walls around his oversensitive cock has his thighs quivering, he keeps his softening cock buried to the hilt, something primal in the back of his brain itching to keep you plugged up with his seed. 

You’re both panting, Simon lifting his head to lick messily into your mouth as you come down from your orgasmic high to instead float upon your drug-induced one, pleasure tingling blissfully at the base of your skull, cunt aching pleasantly around Simon’s girth, even when soft. 

While the old building was equipped with an even older heating system, the rusted burner hadn’t been run nor the oil replaced in what you could only assume had been years. Soap had spent a handful of hours running safety checks while the taskforce kept (tactically) huddled for warmth, the Scot finally determining the old hunk of junk wouldn’t blow the place and everyone inside to smithereens the second it was turned on. 

Safe to run, but the oil was so degraded it burned twice as fast and the tank was only three quarters full, which meant rationing.

Then Soap had mentioned to Price that shit oil makes more exhaust, and while it was the middle of a blizzard in fuck-knows, Russia, they did have valuable (and very stolen) data on them that they’d obtained (very much stolen) not even a few days prior.

So thus, more rationing. Just enough heat to keep everyone from freezing to death, which wasn’t much.

You and the lads had taken two of the three sizable mattresses and pushed them together on the floor, gathering all the blankets and spare linens you could dig out of the basement and closets to make a massive nest to help insulate heat. 

The only time any of you got up out of the thing was to shut the heat on or off, piss or shit, or use the little electronic hotplate Ghost always brought with him; heating snow to wash with or make tea with, or cooking the pantry’s stash of canned beans (that’d expired a month prior) once you’d run out of MREs.

Being out of suppressants in a freezing, enclosed space, nesting near non-stop with the four very fertile alphas whos’ cocks you regularly took was already a pretty good concoction for triggering a flash heat. 

You forgot to take into account you skipped your last medically mandated heat, klepping an extra box of the little pills from the MTF in order to skip your placebos.

Your heat hit hard and fast, awakening you in the night with cold chills, an obscene amount of slick tacky between your bare thighs, your cock achingly hard and hole achingly empty.

Price, who’d been pressed up to your back in nothing but ratty sweats and wool thick socks, awoke first. The scent of your heat slick made his nose twitch, his throat thick with saliva as his cock grew so hard so quickly he might’ve been dizzy if he hadn’t been lying down. 

You keened low in your throat at the smell of his arousal blanketing you—wood smoke and something like wet grass—and shivered at his answering growl, his muscle-corded arms squeezing tight around you as he pressed his mouth to your throat, licking wetly over your scent gland. 

“You’re burning up,” he murmurs with a shuddering breath, his beard tickling your oversensitive skin and making you whimper, “Mmh, I’ve got you, lad.”

He sucks bruises around your gland, his free hand wasting no time in shoving his sweats far enough down his thighs to free his throbbing cock. His first few thrusts are sloppy and uncoordinated with the remains of sleep, his prick pushing between your slick wet thighs. 

“Please~!” You whine, the friction of his cock slipping through your folds maddening in your heat drunk state. You push your hips back as he thrusts forward again, the bulbous tip catching on your entrance before popping past the tight ring of muscle. You nearly scream as his fat cock bullies into your sopping cunt, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, muffling your desperate moans as he fucks into you.

“Slutty little omega,” he rumbles, his voice dripping with affection despite the words, “gonna wake the others, hm?”

He snarls against the back of your neck, teeth digging in to scruff you before he shoves the blankets down off your bodies. One hand over your mouth and the other gripping your thigh bruisingly tight, he rolls onto his back with you in his grasp, his cock carefully kept sheathed as he plants his feet and begins to pound up into you, his heavy balls slapping wetly against the base of your shaft and forcing your moans up a pitch.

Price unscruffs you, teeth returning to scrape along your pulsing gland. Your head lulls onto his shoulder, gaze turning to the side to see the glint of the dim oil lamp reflected in Soap’s sky blue eyes, locked onto where Price’s prick thrusts in and out with obscene squelches. 

His blanket shifts with the movement of his arm, and you belatedly realize he’s stroking himself off to the sight of you being bred by your shared pack Alpha, a mere yard away. You whine longingly, a gush of slick squirting from your cunt as you try to beckon the other Alpha over to you, using your wanton scent to draw his instincts. 

The second he tries to move, scrambling onto his hands and knees, the large shadow of Ghost is on him, pinning him down by the scruff of his neck and rumbling so deep in his chest it barely registers in your ears. 

“Get first dibs,” he rumbles, pulling up his mask just enough to nip threateningly at Soap’s ear, a warning, before he releases the Scot, shuffling across the mattress to settle between yours and Price’s legs.

“Oh, c’mon, Lt!” the Sergeant bemoans weakly.

Soap sulks, but knows the order of operations is in place for a reason—remembers how the first time you’d gone into heat, Ghost had nearly torn Soap to shreds when the Scot tried to claim you first, the Lieutenants already trauma-sensitive instincts forced into overdrive in the face of your hormones.

Soap knew Ghost only bent the knee to Price when he was like this, and so he grumbles unhappily, and grabs a pillow to hump as he settles in to watch and wait for his turn.

The movement of Price’s hips slows as Ghost nuzzles against yours and the Captain’s thighs, sucking at the scent glands there as if he could drink down both of your scents. His over-long tongue licks around the wet seam where Price’s cock splits you wide, making the both of your hips twitch, before he trails sucking wet kisses up the shaft of your small cock, rumbling happily, the sharp scent of charcoal mingling with Price’s own musk as he takes the throbbing prick into his mouth and down to the root with ease. 

You cry out, back arching as he suckles, drinking down the copious amounts of precum your tip weeps. Price begins fucking up into you again in slow, heavy thrusts that have the head of his cock poking against your womb every single time. The movement in turn makes Ghost’s head bob up and down your length, wet slurping and gagging resounding through the room as he feasts, Price’s balls tapping the man’s chin with each thrust.

Soap shuffles over to you slowly, keeping his posture low to the mattress so as to not pose a threat to either of the primary Alphas. Price gives a warning rumble, but settles when Soap merely leans down to lick at the hand covering your mouth, asking wordlessly for permission to kiss you. Price’s hand moves instead to your throat, and Soap wastes no time sloppily licking into your mouth and huffing happily with the uncoordination of your own lips, too fucked out and overwhelmed to kiss back properly. 

A growl like a dying engine has you jolting, the vibrations around your prick having you crying out against Soap’s lips. You turn your gaze down to Ghost to see Gaz sidling up behind the Lieutenant, a gentle hand rubbing up and down the larger man’s bicep. Gaz only lets out a placating purr in response, a sound more befitting of an Omega.

“Easy, sir,” Gaz murmurs softly, soothing.

Ghost has pulled off of your cock, lapping absentmindedly at the pulsing flesh as he watches Gaz like a hawk, a wild dog guarding its meal. Over the heady, aroused musk of the three alphas, you can make out the calming honey and chamomile of Gaz’s unnaturally sweet scent as he intentionally pushes it outward, leaning down below Ghost’s head to mouth at Price’s sac, tongue lathering over the course hairs before sucking one then the other into his mouth. Both Ghost and Price rumble their satisfaction, their hindbrains basking in the supplication of one of their pack’s secondary Alphas.

While Price’s thrusts are significantly slower to accommodate the two men forcing your legs apart around their shared bulk, the sensation is no less satisfying, your cunt milking Price’s cock, stimulating his knot in hopes of making it swell.

Price grips your hair with one hand, turning you back toward Soap who’s now knelt beside your head, his cock purplish red and dripping with neglect.

“Go on, Sunshine,” Price rumbles, “been good n’ patient. Be gentle, now.”

Soap rubs his tip across your lips, smearing the pre like gloss before you part your kiss swollen lips, moaning wantonly around the length as he shallowly fucks your mouth.

You can feel Price’s knot slowly swelling, catching on your sore and abused rim with each thrust. Soap has gone from quick, shallow thrusts to slow and deep, the ocean scent of him filling your nostrils each time his pubes tickle your nose. You can feel how stilted his movements are, careful to keep from losing control and simply mounting the hot wet hole of your mouth in fear of setting off the other Alphas. 

Ghost’s hand has taken to stroking you, him and Gaz mouthing at either of Price’s balls, taking turns lapping where his knot swells or tongue fucking each other’s mouths with heady little growls and grunts permeating the wet sounds of their lips. 

You whine pathetically at the barrage of sensations, your cunt tightening up as you grow impossibly close to orgasm. Price bites down hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder, just below your gland as he slams his hips up, his knot finally popping into you with a wet squelch and a deafening growl muffled and buried into your flesh.

You cum hard around his knot, milking the thick bulb of it as rope after rope of his seed fills you. Your cum, more like squirt, is met with eager whines from Ghost who struggles to lap all of it up before it drips down from your tummy to the bedsheet, earning a soft, amused huff from Gaz as he presses gentling kisses to the Lieutenant’s throat and shoulder. 

Soap’s prick twitches in your mouth, your eyes wet with tears looking up at him as he fists his own knot, cumming with just the tip past your plush lips, not wanting you to choke. He bites his lip to muffle his groan, his spend contradictorily bitter and sweet as you swallow it down with a pleased purr.

Price’s knot has barely deflated, slipping out from under you before Ghost is already knelt between your thighs, hefting your bottom half into his lap, pressing his fat cock into you, the warm cum of Price’s load making the Lieutenant moan brokenly.

Soap sidles up behind Ghost, and you can tell from the movements of his arm and the sutter of Ghost’s hips that Soap’s playing with the larger Alpha’s ass, the way you know Ghost likes. Price lifts your head to make you gulp down water before Gaz is straddling your chest, pressing his own cock past your lips. 

You jolt awake at the feeling of cold metal trailing down the ridges of your bare spine. You feel an unpleasant emptiness, and your cock is hard and dripping where it’s trapped between your stomach and the bed sheets, surely tacky and wet with pre and sweat. Before you can truly get your bearings, a hand grips your hair and another covers your mouth.

“Doon’t scream,” Soap says from in front of you, low and gravelly. His hand slips from your hair, and the familiar click of a gun safety being switched makes you shudder, grunting when the barrels pressed beneath your jaw.

You try to take stock of your surroundings—Soap kneels in front of you, left hand pushing the gun into the soft flesh beneath your jawbone to keep your head propped up, his right palm pressed over your lips, fingers digging painfully tight into your cheeks. He looks smug, though there's a hunger overshadowing the slight tug of his lips and the twinkle of his blue eyes. 

There’s a wetness between your thighs that makes you squirm, the feeling of cooling saliva quickly replaced with the swipe of a hot tongue licking over your hole. You cry out behind Soap’s palm, reaching to grab at his forearms only for two skeleton-patterned gloved hands to catch you by the wrists and tug your arms behind your back. 

“Keep em’ there,” Ghost says, making sure his legs are locked with yours to keep you pinned, his tone as simple as if he’d just ordered you to watch the corner. 

Your hands twitching is greeted with Soap’s palm slipping from your mouth, only for the gun to quickly replace it, clacking against your teeth before the acrid taste of gun metal invades your taste buds.

“You heard the man,” Soap grins, tapping his finger gently on the trigger guard, “wouldn’t want m’hand ta slip, now would we? Not tha’ it’d stop us…” 

You whimper around the barrel, feeling Ghost groan against your hole, and try to blink away the oncoming tears as Ghost returns to messily licking you out, and the reality of your situation washes over you. Ghost’s practiced in his motions, and despite the circumstances there is no rush to the way he works you over, like he has all the time in the world. You dig your nails into your forearms, crossed at your back as Ghost slips a thick, surprisingly soft finger into your clenching heat, having removed his gloves at some point. 

Soap is hard in his own jeans, the outline of his cock mere inches from your face. Your jaw aches around the gun, unable to swallow properly around the bulk of it as drool drips heavily down your chin to form a small puddle on the thin bed sheets. Soap gently rocks the pistol in and out of your mouth, watching with rapt attention how your tongue flexes restlessly along the slide.

The pink muscle flicking at his finger where it rests on the trigger guard seems to be his limit, as he shoves the gun forward just enough to make you gag before yanking it out, the tears finally streaming down your cheeks as you cough. 

“Ghost,” Soap grunts, handing the gun off to the Lieutenant behind you, feeling it press flat between your shoulder blades, the cold ridges pressed to your spine by Ghost’s palm holding it there. Soap grasps your jaw with bruising strength, tugging you up to meet his eyes, “lookit you, pathetic fuckin’ thing.”

The clink of Soap’s belt catches your attention as you glance down, only for his palm to connect hard with your cheek, making you cry out as he roughly grabs for you again.

“Look. At. Me,” he growls, your breath stuttering in a hiccup as you hold his piercing gaze even through the blur of tears. You can see the movement of him pulling his cock free in your peripheral, and whimper as he slides the sticky, soft head of his cock along your trembling lips.

“Open that mouth, baby,” he rumbles, fingers digging into the joint of your jaw when you hesitate too long, “be a good lil’ hure fer me.”

Your mouth falls open on a shuddering moan as Ghost presses the tips of two fingers to the gland of your prostate, massaging the swollen bulb with sniper precision. Soap’s prick slips past your lips, muffling your whines around the thick, meaty length of his cock. 

You can feel Ghost shift behind you, the gun trailing till his arm is hooked under your armpit, barrel dug into your jaw once again. The scrape of denim is rough along the back of your thighs, the soft cotton of his jumper bringing attention to the aching turned stinging along your back, where you can feel now with clarity where Ghost sucked hickeys into your bare skin while you slept, hyperware of the grooves where his teeth dug into your skin. 

“Bloody perfect,” Ghost murmurs, chest vibrating against your spine with the rolling deepness of his voice. His hips absentmindedly rock against yours, his breath hot against your cheek, the bulk of his weight pressing you to the mattress as he presses jarringly chaste kisses along your jawline, to the corner of your lips stretched taut around Soap’s thrusting cock. Soap gives a growling groan when Ghost’s tongue slips out, lapping lazily at the ring of spit and pre that froths around the seal of your mouth.

You feel Ghost’s free hand fumbling between your legs, the sound of his trousers being undone barely audible over the ringing in your ears. He groans as he frees himself, and you whine at the fat length of his cock slipping between your cheeks and catching on your rim. 

You struggle in earnest, trying to pull your head away from Soap’s cock while your hands, trapped beneath Ghost’s bulk, shove at the man’s stomach. Your teeth graze the sensitive flesh of Soap’s prick and he quickly pulls free from your mouth, cuffing you upside the head for the trouble.

“Don’t,” you choke out, voice sleep rough and sore from where Soap’s cockhead had tapped the start of your throat, “please don’t, I’ve never—” 

You sob as Ghost’s hips twitch, the head of his cock spreading the rim of your arsehole wide without quite pushing in. 

“Heard that, Ghostie?” Soap purrs, rocking his hips to slide his slick cock along your cheek, your warm tears against the swollen flesh making him shiver, “know how much you love a virgin hole.”

“Fuckkk,” Ghost groans, pressing his face against your neck, catching the thin skin between his teeth. His balaclava is shoved up over his nose, the scratchy material rubbing against the sensitive skin behind your ear and making your traitorous cock twitch and leak.

“Going to fucking ruin this arse,” Ghost growls. He’s suddenly rough with you, like a switch has flipped inside him. The gun is dropped to the floor somewhere as Ghost hauls you back onto your knees. He mounts up, heaving chest pressed to your back, one strong arm wrapped around your torso while the other lines up his cock with your twitching hole. 

You sob as he shoves in, giving you no time to adjust when his pelvis immediately meets your ass, heavy balls slapping against yours before he’s pulling back and shoving back in, over and over. His thrusts are steady and deep, and you instinctively grab at Soap’s wrist and waist, shoving your face between the crook of his muscled thigh and leaking cock, muffling your moans into the sweaty skin there. 

“Can’t help but feel good, huh?” Soap coos mockingly, fingers carding through your sweat slick hair, “never having taken cock, yet you’re moaning for it like a slut already. You know you were made for this, just needed us to show you.” 

You nod against Soap’s skin, breathing his musky scent in deep, pressing the flat of your tongue to his furry balls before suckling one into your mouth to earn a breathy groan from him. 

Ghost grunts and growls like an animal above you, his mouth sucking mark after mark along the side of your neck, an expanse of purples and reds that’ll be impossible to hide. His cock is so big, each time he bottoms out pushing against the squishy walls of your limits, feeling like he’s in your fucking lungs, and the bulk of his fat cockhead catches on your prostate with each in-and-out movement. 

Soap uses your hair to guide you up the pulsing length of his prick, letting you lather your tongue along the prominent vein that travels up the side, pulling his foreskin down so you can lick and suck at the glans of his tip. 

“He’s gonna breed you full,” Soap rumbles, voice soft as you slobber on his cock, “fill you with his cum ‘till it takes.”

“Please,” you gasp, muffled against Soap’s cockhead and bubbly with spit and precum, “please please, Ghost, please.”

Ghost growls like a shout, making you cry out as his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder and his hips begin to jackrabbit it into you, the lude sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh echoing throughout the room, the wet plap plap plap aided by the froth of his own saliva that leaks from your puffy hole down his heavy sac.

“Yeah, Simon? Gonna fuck a baby into his little virgin hole?” Soap goads, pulling your head down his length as you let out a pathetic moan, gagging and choking when your nose presses to the thatch of pubic hair at the base of his cock, eyes crossing as he holds you there, only able to breathe in the thick musk of sweat trapped there. 

You clench up tight around Ghost as you struggle and asphyxiate around Soap’s prick, and Ghost cums with a shout muffled into the bloody wound of your shoulder. His hips slam into yours, bouncing off your ass where you can already feel the red sting of bruises forming, before his movements stutter, buried to the hilt as he fills you deep with his load. 

It’s Soap who lets out a moan next, yanking you off his cock just as he cums, decorating your purple-red face with his spend as you cough and heave for breath. You reach up to pull his foreskin back down and seal your lips around his tip, whining brokenly as he strokes the last of his cum onto your waiting tongue. 

It’s the taste of him that does you in, swallowing him down with a keen as your cock pulses and spurts cum onto the bed sheets below. 

You collapse fully to the bed, cheek pressed to the sweat damp sheet cooling in the night air. Soap pets at your hair, his nails scritching gently at the base of your skull and making your skin tingle pleasantly. Ghost is a large, comforting weight along your back, his soft but heavy cock still buried inside you and occasionally twitching with another pulse of cum he shoots into you with a shudder and what you can only describe as a whimper from his scratchy throat. 

Somehow a night of companionable drinking in Price’s office, the two sat on the ratty couch against the wall, had ended up with Soap’s lips kiss swollen and saliva slick, cock aching in his trousers, which Price had so kindly liberated him of before dropping to his knees between spread legs.

Price’s hands join the equation, gripping the ample meat of Soap’s ass to pull his cheeks apart, giving him better access to dip his tongue past the tight rim, causing Soap to jolt and moan, earning a soft chuckle from Price before he drives his tongue in as deep as he can get. 

Soap is a rambling, gasping mess, barely registering the slight sting and burn of Price’s first finger pushing in alongside his tongue—the pleasure of said tongue, and the fist cruelly twisting over the tip of Soap’s cock easily overwhelming any possible pain from the insistent stretch. 

Price is brutal in his efficiency, quick to add another finger when he finally pulls his mouth free. He lets saliva periodically drip from his pursed lips, keeping Soap’s tight hole well lubed as he scissors his fingers ever so slightly, earning what a less dignified man might call a squeak as Soap’s hand launches down to wrap around Price’s wrist—not stopping his movements, simply holding and squeezing. 

Soap looks beautiful from where Price kneels, shirt rucked up past his plush tits, sweat dripping between their crease and down the valley of his abdomen, which wildly expands and retracts with Soap’s heaving breaths and broken moans. 

If Price was a better man, a more patient man, he’d take the time to stretch Soap proper—add another finger and fetch some lube.

Price, however, is neither a better man, nor a patient one.

He pulls his fingers free, bracing his knees on the edge of the couch as he looses his belt, unzipping his cargos just enough to pull his aching cock free. Soap moans at the sight, brow furrowed and eyes a little wide at Price’s girth. 

Price wastes no time pressing his precum sticky tip to Soap’s hole, and Soap jolts.

“Wait—” he croaks, bracing a hand on Price’s shoulder. Price pushes in, head popping in with a slick noise as Soap throws his head back, mouth dropping open like a silent scream before a strangled whine escapes his throat.

“That’s it, sunshine,” Price growls, voice low and gravelly, feeling how Soap’s hole gradually relaxes, flexing around the tip of his cock like it’s trying to suck him deeper, “taking me so well, Johnny.”

“Don’ call me that,” Soap murmurs hazily, voice slightly slurred, head rolling loose on his shoulders. Price meets glossy blue eyes and groans at the sight of tears brimming, Soap’s face flushed red and damp with a sheen of sweat.

Price pushes one of Soap’s legs up till his knee is to his chest, bracing his hand on Soap’s under thigh. His other hand reaches up to cradle Soap’s cheek, thumb pressing on the scot’s chin as he pushes into the hilt, watching with twisted pleasure as Soap’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open again as the tears finally spill past the waterline. 

“P-Price—” Soap croaks, eyes slipping shut as Price grinds his hips into Soap’s ass, allowing the younger to adjust to the stretch of what Price (smugly) knows is a much thicker than average cock. 

“You’re doing so good, sunshine,” Price murmurs, and he doesn’t miss the way Soap’s cock twitches at the praise, a barely there whimper falling from his lips, “sweet little hole was made for me, huh? Suckin’ me in…”

Soap bites his lip and nods frantically, tears still slowly slipping from closed eyes as Price begins to draw back, starting with shallow but sharp, quick little movements that punch little ah ah ah’s from the sergeant.

Soap’s cock has flagged slightly from the initial pain, the semi soft flesh dribbling a steady stream of pre as Price’s cockhead slides over his prostate with each brutal thrust. The captain picks up his pace until his balls are slapping lewdly against Soap’s ass, saliva frothing and dripping from Soap’s ass to add to the wet squelch of each impact.

The younger wraps his arms around Price’s neck, pulling him down until they’re breathing each other’s air, leg now hitched over Price’s shoulder, panting into each other’s mouths. Price licks messily at Soap’s lips, rumbling in satisfaction when Soap licks back, the two men’s tongues sliding across each other in what can barely be considered a kiss.

Price grips Soap’s hair, using the hold to pull the scot’s head to the side, baring his neck. Just beneath his jawline, Price sucks a deep bruise, one he knows the sergeant won’t be able to hide. He can feel how Soap’s hole clenches at the realization—the other’s won’t know by who, but they’ll know the sergeant has been more than claimed. 

“You gunna cum on my cock, lad?” Price whispers, lips to Soap’s ear, licking a wet stripe around the rim that has Soap flinching.

“Please, please, please, pl—” Soap rambles wetly, usually deep voice rough and straining against his frantic pitch. 

Price shushes him, pressing his lips to Soap’s in a wet, tantric kiss, in sharp contrast to Price’s brutal and quick thrusts. He grips Soap’s hips, propping him up a bit higher for a better angle that has Soap nearly screaming, Price frantically slamming his palm over Soap’s mouth and nose, to which Soap’s eyes roll back into his skull, keening at the lack of oxygen. 

“Come on, sunshine,” Price growls, watching how Soap’s fingers dig into the edge of the couch, his thigh muscles violently trembling, “cum for daddy.”

The effect is immediate, Soap’s hole clenching down on Price’s cock hard enough to hinder Price’s languid thrusts, Soap’s face going a dark beet red that slowly fades to a purplish color, Price feeling the sucking breaths Soap attempts to make against Price’s sweaty palm.

Price buries to the hilt, ceasing his movements to allow Soap’s rippling orgasm to milk his aching cock, finally cumming with a bellowing growl as the muscles squeeze around his sensitive tip. 

It isn’t until Soap’s body twitches from oxygen deprivation, mind threatening to shut down that Price removes his hand from Soap’s mouth and nose, watching as the scot sucks in heaving breaths of air into his burning lungs. 

Soap seems to finally come back to himself, looking down at his cum covered chest and the soft cock still buried in his hole with something akin to awe. 

“Good, Soap?”

Soap huffs an incredulous laugh, hole clenching around Price’s softening cock and causing the older man to wince ever so slightly at the overstimulation.

You sob out at the persistent stimulation, the bed shifting beside your head as Ghost moves to rub his swollen cock along your kiss bitten lips, teasing the tip in and out of the welcoming heat to muffle your noises. Ghost’s free hand trails down your torso, palm spread out over your lower tummy, right where your new tattoo rests—the womb design Price paid for you to get, designed by none other than Soap himself.

Price watches how Ghost’s pupils darken as he presses down on the soft flesh, slowing his hips to a torturously slow roll.

“Wanna watch me knock ‘im up, Simon?” Price smiles knowingly, tracking how Ghost’s eyes flicker from the tattoo, to Price’s gaze, down to the frothy white ring around Price’s cock where he sinks in and out of your pink, swollen hole.

Ghost doesn’t give a verbal response, but Price hums anyway, eyeing the way Ghost's cock gives an interested little twitch at Price's honeyed words.

Slowly picking up his pace again, he rocks his hips into yours with harsh thrusts, balls slapping lewdly against your ass, your hard flushed cock bouncing uselessly against your stomach, smearing the tattoo with your own precum.

“S’all this tight little cunt’s good for, isn’t that right?” He grabs your jaw, squeezing your cheeks as he tugs you off of Ghost’s cock with a wet pop and a gasp, watching your red face pant for breath as you frantically nod your head, barely flinching as Ghost gently slaps his cock against your face.

“Yes—y-yes—John—please—fuck!”

“Attagirl,” Price grins viciously, taking your cock in hand to stroke the weeping flesh as he leans down to lick into your mouth, Simon impatiently slipping his cock between the both of your lips with a grunt. The three of you moan, Ghost stroking the length of his cock while you and Price make out messily with the sticky tip.

Ghost's cock twitches, a low, growling "fuck" emanating from his chest as his spend decorates your face, Price eagerly licking you clean as he holds eye contact with Simon, making you whimper as he leaves behind sucking bruises in the process.

"M'gonna cum—Price—" you whine, thighs quivering, that heavy heat sinking deep in your stomach.

"Yeah? Gonna come on daddy's cock?" His voice is impossibly low, rumbling through you like thunder. You shudder and twitch, back arching and eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolls through you, mouth open in a silent scream as Price's firm strokes and harsh thrusts milk your pleasure.

"That's it," Price half growls, half chuckles, "there she is. Milk daddy's cock, princess, fuck."

His thrusts stutter, once, twice, before his cock settles as deep as he can bury it, thick cum filling you. You vaguely feel Ghost's hands over your tattoo again, rubbing the skin there.

You're barely aware as Price kisses and licks up your leg, your ankle, peppering kisses over the top of your foot, his hips lazily rolling like he could rut his cum any deeper—like if he gets it deep enough it might actually take.