“o-oh, fuck— john—“ you gasp, his hands gripping your hips and bouncing you on his cock. you’ve already cum a few times, but it’s taking him a bit longer to than when he was younger. you wanted to comfort him, right? so just let him fuck you! he’s grunting words of praise as you ride him on the couch, meanwhile you’re too fucked out to process them.

just like how when he stares at your sandwich that you were snacking on during a meeting, you didn’t think twice before sliding half of it over to him. then, you saw how unsure he was, and picked it back up again before placing it in his gloved hand.

you could tell he was pretty shy. but he was sweet, too. like how when you let out a small shiver in the common room on the couch, and he laid half the blanket that he had on his lap over yours too. you didn’t think you’d make fast friends with the big guy, but you did. and you were happy.

sorry but i just cannot stop thinking about price and his cigars right now.

he has you bent over, one of his hands lazily kneading the skin at the waist. He sinks his cock into you slowly with a gravelly moan. A little encouragement at the stretch of “There we go, boy…”

His thrusts aren’t very fast, but they’re firm and purposeful. You’re whining into the pillow and gripping the sheets while he sighs like it’s a relaxing massage and not him fucking you so good that you’ll never want to be empty again. He takes a lazy drag from his cigar, and smoke fills the room when he exhales with a groan. He moves his other hand from your waist to your back, making you arch further and pushing you into the bed. “Thaaat’s it, mmh… Just relax for me…”

And then there’s Gaz who when you dissociate, he waits. “Oh— okay. Let’s get you comfy,” he says. He patiently tells you about his day while you’re out of it. He makes sure you sit or lay down somewhere, resting his head against your shoulder or chest so you feel the comforting pressure. He’ll hold your hand under tables at meetings, gently squeezing to ground you when you’re ready to come back to reality. afterwards, he fills you in on every little thing that was said while giving you some water and one of the snacks he keeps in his pocket.

yes ughhh….

Kyle is into pain play. He’ll hump your boot until you start crushing and kicking his dick with your foot. His hips always stutter, not sure whether to pull away from the pain or hump against the pleasure. He’s drooling and cumming whenever you kick his dick with your knee and choke him out. (He always pouts afterwards when you ice his bruised balls)

Soap is into scent. No matter what position, he ends up shoving his face into your armpit as he ruts into you. He’s begging you to never shave any hair there so that the smell sticks, and huffs whenever you put on deodorant. He’ll be rearranging your guts and pull your arm above your head before pressing his face into your armpit, inhaling desperately. “Fuck, love— ye smell divine.”

Price loves fauxcest obviously, but plenty of people talk about that. I think he also loves prostate play and sounding. His old man dick isn’t exactly working all the time, and when he discovers strap ons or if you want to top? He’s bent over his desk, hairy ass spread. He loves feeling you slam into him, sounding rod with slight vibration in his dick. He’s always sobbing, begging to cum, nodding desperately when you call his dick useless and his ass his pussy.

which, is why, you can’t help but hate him.

it all feels so fake. maybe because it’s all lines that you’ve had to rehearse saying, practicing to pretend to care about what someone did on their day off or why they seem more tired than usual. he’s always so enthusiastic, you just can’t imagine being that interested in talking to other people.

it just angers you even more when he starts talking to you as well. because when he does, he doesn’t make you perform that normal behaviour that people still think is odd when it comes from your mouth. he notices it, that thing inside you that everyone calls wrong, and he doesn’t poke or prod at it. he asks about you, your hobbies, your life, and doesn’t get offended when you don’t ask about his. it’s on cold dark missions together that he talks about himself and his own life.

eventually, you do ask him what his days off or afternoon was like when you’re both at base, and he answers with a smile. he knows you don’t truly care about the things that made him happy or upset, (not in the way most people do, at least), but he notices how you do small things like make him his coffee or save him a seat in a meeting so that he’ll talk to you more later.