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I need him to be on his knees, completely lax, jaw open and drooling against the pillow. Hands lightly tugging at the sheets as his eyelids flutter, roll back, or just barely look at you. They're so fuzzy, so gone, you can tell his vision is blurry
I need him fucked so good that he falls asleep before you even finish wiping him down
(cw: subΒ kyleΒ (dontΒ be surprised), light choking, majority of this is dirty linguistics, little plot/more porn,Β dumbification?, 141 overhears but its okay loll)Β Β
_____Β
You and Kyle arenβtΒ actually boyfriendsβno, you two just know the layout ofΒ each other'sΒ beauty marks,Β how KyleΒ onlyΒ likes a dash of milk and two sugars in his tea, how youΒ (oddly) wet your toothbrush with warm water before brushing your teeth, and so on and so forth.Β You twoΒ arenβtΒ boyfriends,Β butΒ youβreΒ the one Kyle brings over when he and the other boys come home from being deployed.Β Β
AndΒ itβsΒ obvious whenΒ you'reΒ home because the rest of the 141 hear when Kyle brings you home;Β your low, gravelly voice purring out from behind his closed door, slightly breathy from the exertion of your deepΒ and languid thrusts.Β You have him on his knees, with his shoulders smushed into theΒ bed,Β and his head craned back from where your hand holds under his chin.Β Β
βKyle, you feel me?β Your voice is hot and husky on the cusp of his ear, and he clenches sporadically around you,Β βHow deep, baby? Come on.βΒ Β
"Shoβuhn! Deep, oh my god...β he trails off in a warbled whine, drool slipping from his swollen lips.Β He hiccups while his eyes trail into the back of his head when youΒ roughly grindΒ your hips into the plush mounds of his ass.Β You pull out three inches before you lay all your weight into your next thrust, slamming into his prostate with cruel purpose.Β Β
A gasp pushes itself out of his lungsΒ before it breaks into aΒ desperate moan. You let go of his chin to rest your hands on his hips,Β movingΒ your thrustsΒ into a sensual mix of speedΒ and forceβtargeting his prostate with your sticky tip.Β Β
βYou feel how thick I am inside you?β You tap his thigh, signaling him to give you an answer, butΒ heβsΒ too far gone to give you anything other than another moan. You βtutβ at him, βAwe, cβmon Kyle,Β you know better than that.β You run your hand under his body and up to his neck, grasping it, and using it to flip him onto his back.Β Β
You slip out from inside of him due to the slick mix of lube and yourΒ pre, but you ignore how he pitifully whines at the emptiness, taking your time to put yourself back in him.Β βHold your legs up.β When he takes a second too long forΒ your likingΒ to listen to your order, youΒ love-tap him on his cheek, allowing the stingΒ to bring him out of his fog.Β Then, you get a cruel thought, and your voice comes out in a cocky octave as you say,Β βThatβs an order,Β Soldier.βΒ Β
With his trainingΒ kicking in, heΒ immediatelyΒ brings his handsΒ to hold the backs of his knees toward his chest, just as you like it;Β with a grinΒ you wrap your hand back around his neck as you start up your thrusts once more.Β Β
Only this time, with the strain of air entering his lungs, Kyleβs moans filter through the air unabashed and pornographicβcompletely unaware of how red in the face his teammates are on the couch in the living room, as they try their hardest to will away their hardΒ onsΒ from hearing howΒ Kyleβs pretty,Β not-boyfriend-boyfriend isΒ rearranging his guts.Β Β
Especially when they weren't supposed to be ripped, you ripped them a while ago trying to pull them aside and you might have rushed a little to get in there. He disliked it at first but he still hasn't gotten them stitched up and keeps wearing them around the house. He knows they make you go crazy, especially with the reminder of what you did, so it's a safer way to get railed like he wants to be.
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It feels like only a few days ago you were writing Graves like a hot sex fiend and your last few Graves posts are just him being needy and pathetic and honestly I'm going insane for both
How do you feel about Graves x Soap? Or not really the two of them, more like a sex triangle type of situation. I want a reader who's just taking advantage of both of them (has been for months) and watching them become way too angry about each other getting in the way
I just between topics faster than graves can jump between cock.
He's a bitch sub in heat, while also being a brat, but also being a desperate brat.
Him and soap clash so much. Imagine they discover they're fucking the same Dom AFTER grave's betrayl.
Somehow they manage to share and not just immediately kill eachother. Or turn the other in.
They hate each other, but Soap is scary good at sucking dick, and Graves can ride Soap for hours without getting tired. It's a good deal for bottom!Graves and Switch!Soap.
They don't kiss, but if Graves spits in Soaps mouth, and he spits it back.. well. That's close enough.
They're like complete opposites.
I imagine graves to be a lean, athletic fit. Relatively hairless. Blonde..
Soap is bulky, muscular, brunette, and hairy.
They're so different that they're almost insecure about it, always wondering who you like more...
Mmmm what about Johnny who's never rode someone before.
He's fucked plenty, been fucked in nearly every position, but has some how never been on top while bottoming.
And now his mean... friend? Boyfriend? Benefits? Is watching him, laughing as Johnny flushes, arms draped on the back of the couch, not helping to guide him at all while Johnny fumbles to line your tip to his hole.
He was so confident at first, but he's missed three times, finally got it in just for his thighs to cramp only a few minutes in. He can squat triple the weight of the average man, sprint for hours, jump from rooftop to rooftop, but starts whining when he has to do the work in bed.
Even worse when you start calling him princess and bunny, teasing him with a sparky "what, too good to put in the work?"
Soap, who's heard everyone likes it bigger, it was just uncomfortable for him when he tried it. He tried more medium sized, it was better but still not it. Maybe the guys he slept with were just bad at sex, he refused to try again until he took a small dick.
No man wanted to admit they had a small cock so he went to the next option, a toy. He bought a dildo that was only 2 and a half inches long, extra lube coated it just in case.
He teased his clit first, penatration had never really gotten him off. Working himself until he was clenching around nothing. Then, he slowly pushed in the toy.
Pushing it until it was fully in, he slowly started thrusting it. Then he sped up, faster, faster, faster. His legs trembled and eyes started rolling. It wasn't long before he came.
After that, it was like he had to have it. Had to fuck himself with it every night. He bought a smaller one, sleeping with it in so he could wake up and still make himself stretch on the other one.
Then, he found one that would full him with fake cum at the press of a button and he found his new favorite thing, the feeling of cum dripping from his pussy. With the shortness of the toy, it dripped out faster.
"Oh fuck! Just like that!" Soap moaned as he rode the toy, it would pop out when he got too excited but that just made it better. He rubbed his clit over the tip of it before lining back up and sinking down.
"Didn't know someone could loose their minds so much on suck a small toy." He jerked up, trying to cover himself from your gaze. "You like small cocks?"
"Its none of your business." He snapped at you, embarrassed about being caught with something most people considered pointless.
"It is when that toy that has you acting like a whore is about the size of my dick." Bright blue eyes filled with predatory interest landed right on your crotch.
It wasn't long before he was laying on the bed, grasping onto the sheets with his eyes rolled back. The same length, but thicker. The thickness had his pussy clenching hard as he grasped at the bedding.
"Cum in me! Pl-Ngh-Please! I need yo-oh fuck-Your cum! Pl-" He cut himself off with a whine as he came hard, cumming around your cock. Pretty blue eyes rolling back as his body tensed.
A few more thrusts had him cumming again at the feeling of hot cum filling his pussy. He let out a soft sound as you pulled out.
Eyes snapping open at the feeling of being flooded with fake cum before his toy plugging him.
"Hows that feel?" He stared up at you, plotting how to keep you in his bed forever.
Mmmmh I LOVE Johnny with freckled. They're so light and sparce that it's like a reward when you spot them, his knuckles, chest, shoulders, back, ass, the back of his thighs mmmmhmhhddddggggffffffffffff. Agreed?
See I never stopped to picture Soap with freckles before but now I'm realising I'd been missing out. Strongly agree. Pointing them out while you're railing him and watching him get slightly frustrated with you for focusing so hard on them
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Simon realising Johnny has to be drunk to have sex.
That's the only time he will initiate or make any noise whatsoever, otherwise he's 100% focused on something else and more or less silent, apart from panting from exertion.
But the moment Simon stops asking because he doesn't want to make the man he loves feel like a fleshlight, Johnny falls into a spiral of anxiety, asking whether anything's wrong, what he did, and immediately tries to offer despite his obvious lack of arousal.
For Johnny, sex is a bartering tool for affection and connection, and he's used to people leaving the moment it's off the table, so he never says no, never complains, always performs his best after drinking just enough for his brain to go fuzzy. And Simon just doesn't have the tools to help him through it.
Soooo... what about tf141 x short and young male reader? I know its not kind of your type but I just HATE how young and small people are always portrayed as some silly cute things. I want young shorty to be rough dominant
β π (Can I be π?)
OMG BEE ANON πππ
I'm on my lunch break so this is rushed, but...
Youre fresh faced, small, and clearly inexperienced.
People try to push you around, you push back, and end up at a new base. With the shit on your file, it's a surprise you're still in the military. You're something they call.. unstable.
Now imagine Ghost, watching the newest member walk in. He's seen unstable, he knows the tell tales of someone of the brink. And you? You just.. don't seem like that. So he pushes. And pushes. And pushes some more. It takes you longer than expected to break, but when you do, it's worth it. He finds himself on his knees, nose bloodied as you fuck his throat like its nothing for than a silicone cunt. You ignore the drool dripping down your balls, onto the floor. Ignore the gags and the tears. Cumming down his throat like you own it...
You're expecting an immediate discharge, if not at the very least, another transfer. Instead, you find your lieutenant in your room ready for round two.
didnt matter the breed, the size, nor the personality. a dog was a dog. a dog was a weapon that could ruin. whom could tear the flesh and tendons off a person like it was unraveling a ball of yarn.
hated 'em.
when you two met, it was coincidentally by your little dog. a yippie thing that bounced off the walls with energy. ran into him one day, luckily you scooped the tiny thing up before johnny punted it beyond the cities skyline.
after you moved in, johnny hated dogs tenfold. always was the little mutt in his area. dirtying his silk pillow youd gotten him, stealing his newly made food from the automan, even running about with johnnys favorite military shirts. that was the worst, dog saliva stank.
youd laugh, empathetic in his hate. picking the scraggly thing off the floor before johnny could cuss it out in olden scottish for biting as his ankles.
you loved both your dogs, respectable about their mutual hate towards the other. always seperating their cat fights and shooing one when they started barking at eachother.
it wasnt until your passing that he learned him and the dog had more in common than he wanted.
even weeks after, johnny saw the tiny thing curled on your pillow that had been cold longer than it should ever be. it was there johnny sat beside the pup. actually tested out petting the bugger, broke his heart all over again when its fur was coarse. you always washed him with salon grade shampoos, never had he seen the dog dirty.
they both cried together right then, a weeping sob leaving johnny as he actually clung to the animal. first time hed reached for a dog in three years.
he learned to care for it as you had. relenting when it would growl as it laid across your shoes. johnny knew, he himself had done the same with your favorite hoodie. didnt curse as he blew a quarter of his check on dog shampoos and conditioners. scrubbed its little paws like hed seen you do similarly before.
he wishes hed gotten along with it sooner. but things were better now, curling up together to watch your favorite movie. a candle you had bought just before your passing, burning on the coffee table.
Kyle knows there's nothing wrong with seeking help in a time of need, but he feels like a toddler. Sitting with his phone in hand, going back and forth over whether to call Mum.
He's dangled out of a heli and held his own with a gun in hand. But he hesitates phoning home because a mere phone call might tear his masculinity to shreds.
He's tried to shift the sinking feeling in his chest. He went to the gym, took a walk by the local park, petted a dog, and bought his favourite take-out. And still, it persists, the weight crushing his lungs that leaves him unable to breathe.
His family is at home. Safe, in his childhood home in London.
But he doesn't know that until he's heard his mum's voice over the phone, the sound of her smile when she talks, because she's always delighted to see his name on her phone screen. The typical, "Hiya, babe, how are you?" Until she hands the phone to his dad, who's trying to keep up with his soaps and talk to Kyle at the same time.
Stepping outside for a fag doesn't help; in fact, his hands tremble as he tries to light it.
So, he succumbs to his childish urges and picks up the phone. A part of him hopes the call goes unanswered just so he feels like less of a fool; the rest of him calls that part a liar.
"Hi, Mum."
"Hi, babe. What's up? I can hear it in your voice."
They're in an extra rough scene, the sub is sobbing, and if it wasn't for the way he's cum twice by now, and the lack of safeword from the sub's part, you'd think he wasn't enjoying it..
But something in the doms brain just freezes, looking at the subs face, wet with tears, and he just blurts the safeword.. feels too bad to keep going... a physical pang in his heart..
They end up cuddling instead, the Dom holding his sub as tight as possible through the night.
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Gaz enjoys the nightlife. Maybe he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, maybe he enjoys it sort of like he enjoys his job; he couldn't possibly sit down with his own thoughts, he needs to distract himself somehow, and the nightlife is a great way to do that.
He doesn't remember the last time he slept on base. He also doesn't own his own home, and he has definitely not gone back to his mum's (he should probably call at some point). He's been hopping around strangers' beds like he's a rabbit escaping a wolf, and he's pretty and picks his hook-ups well enough that they usually let him stay the night before he has to go to work, and who cares if he really slept at all?
He enjoys the sound of music blasting his eardrums rather than the screech of bullets being fired. He enjoys the feeling of burning alcohol going down his throat before someone he met fifteen minutes ago convinces him to take another 'shot'. He enjoys being approached and flirted with and groped, he enjoys feeling sexy and special and holy in a way the blood on his hands makes him doubt.
He doesn't enjoy sitting at the pub with his mates and a beer and three hundred more stories of military men showing off or telling him just why he hasn't seen anything yet. He doesn't enjoy Price's weighted glance when he looks over at some nice ass passing by and gets ready for his next act. He doesn't enjoy Soap's aggravating smirk and gesture of pride over to the side. He doesn't enjoy Ghost's mask scaring away his next good night. He doesn't enjoy it when Price gives him another pat on the shoulder, far too encouraging in a way that makes Gaz feel bounds tighten around him, and not the good kind.
He does enjoy it when he manages to leave and go to the club down a few streets. It's also full of military, but at least the guys here will only talk about it if they think it's going to impress their desired fuckbuddy, and Gaz is clearly never impressed, so he doesn't get many issues.
He also enjoys it when he meets you at that club. You talk with him, you buy him a shot or two, and he likes you. It's a strange feeling when he's having that conversation with you, like he could tell you all his secrets and you'd keep him them safer than he can, so he tells you a lot of stuff he probably shouldn't have. Still, he loves it when you listen, and he loves it when your arm moves over his shoulders to pull him closer, and he loves it when you kiss him and grope him and eventually say yes when he asks you to take him to your place.
It's a nice car you drive him in, and an even nicer hotel you get to eventually. He asks if you can order more alcohol using room service, so you do.
He gets drunker than he should, way drunker. He barely remembers the rest. He just remembers he felt good, way better than he thinks he's ever felt - God, you made him forget. You even got him something to help with the hangover before you fell asleep! Right there for him by the time he woke up, a little note, and your number registered on his phone.
Usually he doesn't call back, but this time he probably will.
Graves doesn't get shy often, but when he does its usually because of his husband.
He's chatting with his fellow soldiers, palms flat against the table, slightly leaning over.. you come from behind him. Pressing right up against him, hand slipping under his shirt for a quick feel of his tits. Maybe grinding against his ass for a second before planting a kiss to his cheek and walking off.
Leaves him stuttering, blushing, and knocking shit over, trying to remember where he was in the conversation.
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