bmtillerbabe - Tumblr blog

bmtillerbabe · 20 minutes ago

Text

Holy hot mother of hellfire and all things dark and delicious 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

I am a hard-core GhostSoap shipper - but hot fucking DAMN, writers like you are making me see the truth that is NikPrice 😩😩

Heaven, fucking help me this was way too hot to be reading before bed - PLEASE JESUS TELL ME THERE'S GONNA BE A PART 3 😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Nik takes Price back to his hotel room and gets hot and heavy in the shower. (Comphet Price: Part 2.)

cw: dry humping, Intercrural. Comphet Price.

For the whole cab ride, Price drifted between jittery excitement and a bone deep terror that made his stomach twist itself in knots. He was about to get rattled by one of longest serving and closest friends, and technically he was still bloody married, and–

But every time his thoughts began to spiral, the warmth of Nik's hand would slide over his thigh or over the top of his fingers, squeezing gently, and when Price looked up, he found that very same comfort in Nik's face that he had done so for years. Every exfil, every tense meeting, every time the chips were down and Price had been certain his time had come, Nik had been there. This was no different.

The hotel they pulled up to was as swanky as Price expected. There was a bloke at the door in a red uniform and everything. Price stood considering the buff on the doorman’s shoes, hands deep in his jacket pockets, as Nik paid for their ride. He startled when he felt Nik's hand slide through his elbow. “Are you ok, John?”

“Oh… uh, yeah, course,” Price said, whiskers twitching as he offered a broad smile. “Jus’ a bit nippy out ‘ere. Beer jacket’s worn off.”

The corners of Nik's eyes crinkled with his grin and John wondered why he had never noticed how much he liked it when they did. He wanted to touch them, and his hand twitched. Well, maybe… maybe he could. Not out here, right? Or…

The hesitation vanished from his mind as Nik closed in to kiss him. It was a quick peck, and Price chased Nik’s lips as they pulled away, eager to feel their chapped softness, taste the peppermint gum Nik had just discarded in a nearby bin. His eagerness was apparently endearing, because Nik chuckled, pinching his cheek. “Easy, captain. Come.” Nik placed a hand on his back and guided him through the door opened by the attendant, into a rather posh foyer with a marble floor and artwork that looked like it had been produced by a primary school class using bloody finger paints. Modern art.

The lift behind reception took them up a few floors. Price would have probably counted had Nik not cupped his jaw and kissed him again the moment the doors closed. This time it was longer, deeper, his tongue sweeping into Price's mouth, curling gently against the roof as Price's fists buried in his shirt, body quivering. Nik smelled so good. Every time Price drew a breath in, it was like Nik was entering his blood stream. When Nik pulled back, Price shoved his face against his neck and breathed him in. Nik chuckled again. “If you like it, I can buy you a bottle.”

“S’probably three years worth of my salary,” Price said, muffled by Nik's skin. It was a deep, musky scent, but it wasn't just the cologne, was it? It was Nik. Clean sweat and bloody… pheromones or something. Price was heady with it. Nik let him huff his fill, sliding his knee between Price's thighs. He pressed up a little, and Price groaned at the teasing pressure against his prick, more than half hard and gagging for round two.

“Da. I feel the investment was worth it.”

Before Price could answer, the lift doors slid open with a soft ping and Nik dragged Price into the hallway. They had to be near the top of the building. The red carpet muffled their footsteps, the only sound the eventual beep of Nik's key card as he swiped it over the door and let them in.

It suddenly felt very real. Very, very, very fuckin’ real.

Price swallowed hard as he stood in the middle of the large suite and looked out of the full length sash windows. That was where the nod to the building’s Victorian heritage ended, however, because the rest of the room was modern. All straight lines and clean surfaces, with crisp white sheets and neutral walls. An empty canvas for the brief imprint of each passing guest.

“Would you like a beer?”

“Eh?” Price looked up, blue eyes owlish. Nik offered a bottle towards him, the metal opener pressed against the neck. “Oh yeah, cheers.”

The first swig calmed his nerves. Crisp lager bubbling down his throat as he watched Nik shed his coat and his shoes. Price figured he should too, and folded his jacket over the back of a nearby chair, his boots tucked neatly beneath it.

“You are nervous.”

Price swallowed the lump that quickly built in his throat as he looked at Nik. “Yeah, guess… I, uh… well, s’my first time with… and, ‘m…” Price scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fuck sake, ‘m outta my depth here, Nik… I… if you were a girl, ‘d know how t’...” He circled the hand in front of his chest, the words sticking in his throat. This was bloody stupid. Nik had already tugged him off in a disabled toilet. But, for some reason, the intimacy of the setting felt more… serious. Like he was taking a much bigger step towards something that would have consequences.

Nik’s head tilted to the side, his eyes soft in the dim bedroom light. Fuckin’ ‘ell, it should be against the law for someone to be that handsome. “I am happy to lead you, but I will not force you. You can change your mind, John.”

“No,” Price said, far too quickly. Bit pathetic really. “I… jus’ gimme a moment.”

Nik nodded. “Of course.” He had poured himself a glass of wine. Red. Which was about where Price’s wine knowledge ended. Nik picked it up as he headed towards the bathroom. “I will be in the shower. Feel free to join me if you are ready.”

And that was it, wasn't it? Nik was happy to lead, but Price had to put the control in his hands. Their fumble in the toilets had been one thing but that was after Price had kissed him full on the mouth. Now he had shown hesitation. Nik was just making sure; offering Price an out that would save their friendship before it could be irrevocably ruined by a thoughtless decision.

Price listened to the shower squeak and then the patter of water against the tiles through the open door. It didn't take long for steam to begin curling in the light pouring through the gap, and John took another long gulp of lager before placing the bottle down. He could stay here and wait for Nik to finish. They could drink and play cards, like normal.

Nah. He wanted this. Needed this.

The mental image of Nik's hand stroking down his prick was making him hard all over again. And if he enjoyed this, enjoyed Nik, then that confirmed it all, didn't it? There was no going back. This was the point of no return. Price had to know and… fuck, Nik was just… he was right there, on the other side of the door. Naked and willing. All Price had to do was not bottle it.

He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and walked to the door. He paused at the threshold, his fingertips sliding along the woodgrain to push it a little further open, and he gazed at the damn beautiful sight before him, his gut tightening with that white hot arousal he had felt when Nik had touched him in the pub booth.

It was an open plan bathroom. Wet room, Price mentally corrected. Which meant the shower was spacious, with only a glass divide between the water and the rest of the en suite. Nik was facing away from the door and taking a sip of wine, which meant Price got to watch the water cascade down the muscular curves and valleys of his back, the first true work of art he'd seen since stepping into the building. Price’s eyes tracked down to his arse, full but damn pert, and his muscular thighs; from this angle, he could just about see the shadow of something big hanging between them and his breath hitched in his throat.

With shaking hands, Price pulled off the rest of his clothes. Nik had dumped his in a pile by the toilet. Messy bastard. It was a small rebellion against his military past, much like the haircut and the leather jacket; he was his own man and everything he did was a testament to that. Including his open and healthy sexuality. Price folded his jeans and t-shirt by the sink, his thumbs hooking in the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. Last stitch and he was all in. His eyes slid to Nik again, watching him place his glass in a small alcove in the wall and raise his hands to his hair. The movement made his back ripple, lats spreading, delts flexed, and Price’s prick gave a desperate throb. He pulled his boxers off and shuffled forwards.

The steam beaded in the hair on his arms and chest as he stepped behind the glass, his mouth suddenly dry as his nose filled with the scent of warm skin and cologne. Nik’s back was a map of his life. There were scars; an exit wound at his shoulder, jagged lacerations near his obliques and spidering lines over his hip. Like lightning. Price recognised an electric burn when he saw it; someone had hooked Nik up to a car battery in hopes of extracting information.

Price drank in every inch, from the hair around his legs, the hint of it against the pale skin of his arse. The way the water travelled down firm curves, overhead spotlights catching in the droplets when Nik shifted to reach for the shower gel. He had seen Nik naked before, but never actually looked. Never taken the time to truly drink him in. Too bloody scared that he might feel something. But as his eyes lingered now, he realised that the flashes of firm muscle and broad shoulders that he had imagined during his private time, hand stripping his dick in quiet shame, had been retrieved from his deeply buried memories of Nik.

Price reached out, his fingers sliding against Nik’s warm skin, following the lines of those scars over the curve of muscle and bone. Nik sighed softly, and Price felt Nik’s big hand slide over the top of his fingers, holding Price’s touch against his body.

Nik's words from the pub came back to Price as he stepped closer. That Nik had waited, had wanted for so long. Those rumbled promises while they'd stood in the toilet had been confessions of yearning, of lust and desire. Price’s nose bumped against Nik's shoulder blade, water streaming down his face, as he pressed a kiss to the pitted scar of the bullet wound. It sent a thrill the length of his body, his fingers tightening at Nik's hip as Nik tilted back a little, Price’s erection brushing against the backs of his legs. “Bloody ‘ell,” Price choked out. It felt like a fist had closed around his spine, his feet rooted to the floor.

Nik turned in his arms, holding Price's hand to keep him close. The front was somehow more beautiful than the back, but Price didn't get long to admire it because Nik scratched through his beard and cupped his jaw to tilt his head up for a kiss. It was lazy but deep, Nik’s tongue curling over his and drawing him deeper, urging him closer until Price could feel the firm mounds of Nik's tits and the thick, hot curve of his cock against his hip. Fuck, fuck.

Price had never felt this turned on. It bubbled under his skin, like a roiling, jittery tension that made him want to squirm and rut into the heat of Nik's body. His heart beat hard against his rib cage, his damn balls felt tight. He broke the kiss to catch his breath, drawing back to admire Nik's chest, his eyes wide. He had a dark pelt of hair, thicker than Price’s, streaked with grey and wisps of white. Unsurprising given he was knocking on fifty. Price pushed his fingers through it, marvelling at how it felt running between them, how right it felt. His prick jumped eagerly as he cupped the side of a firm pec, before slowly stroking down Nik's belly. There was some definition under there, but the fact that it was full, building out Nik's thicker figure, made Price groan with tortured longing.

Nik was breathing heavier. Price could feel his heart beneath his lips when he leaned forward to kiss his chest. And if that wasn't enough of a hint, the huge bloody erection would have been. Price's mouth watered as he finally made himself look. He'd always been so careful to avoid it in communal showers, to avoid even thinking about another man's prick, and now he realised why. The game would've been up. There was no denying the pulse of raw arousal and need that thundered through him with each throb of his pulse as he admired Nik's cock.

It was fuckin’ huge. Girthy, a deep red with arousal, veins running from tip to base where they disappeared into a thatch of neat, dark curls. It jutted straight out but for a slight curve up, with a large, thick head pressing out of Nik's foreskin. In any other life, Price reckoned Nik would've been one of those high paid Russian porn stars; the kind that had women and men alike queuing up for a ride. Everything about him was big. It was the swell of Nik's balls Price had seen from behind; firm, heavy. Price swallowed the mouthful of saliva gathered on his tongue, and looked up into Nik's eyes. Nik had been watching him with interest, and now he smiled at the look of awe on Price's face.

Nik stroked a thumb over the corner of Price's eye, following the lines of his crow’s feet, watching the water cascade over his face. “You are so beautiful.”

Price flushed a deep red. “Don't take the piss, Nik…”

“I am not,” Nik said softly, reaching for Price’s hand. He guided it gently, giving Price plenty of scope to pull away, and slid Price’s fingers down the length of his cock. “Mmm, you see? This… this is at the sight of you. The thought of having you in my bed, of spreading your legs… John, I am crazy for you.”

“Nik,” Price gasped, drawing in a stuttering breath at the feel of Nik’s hard cock against his palm. Nik thrust his hips slowly, sliding himself through Price’s grip, and Price watched as his foreskin slid back and forth over his glans, precum smearing over it briefly before being washed away by the shower. God, he needed it. He just needed. He wasn't even fuckin’ sure what it entailed. Not like he'd had any education in it and his fool arse hadn't watched anything but straight porn, because he had disregarded his curiosity as indulgence. He'd never admit shortcomings to anyone else; it was a matter of pride that he was good in bed. But he had no idea where to start with this buffet of a bloke that had been his best mate for years, and he couldn't even entertain the possibility of fucking it up. “Nik, show me… please, fuckin’ ‘ell, show me, I'll… show me how to make you feel good,” he spluttered.

Nik smiled gently before kissing Price gently on the lips, his big hands settled on Price’s hips and guided him backwards towards the glass divide, but the shock of cold against Price's back didn't come, because Nik placed his hand just behind him as a buffer. He twisted, reaching behind him to a small bottle Price hadn't noticed previously. Oil-based lubricant.

“Your hand,” Nik asked, and Price proffered his palm. Once Nik had filled it, he placed the bottle aside and gathered both of Price's hands around their cocks, sliding them together. A choked moan broke from Price’s chest. He'd never seen a sexier fuckin’ sight; their crowns pressed close, drooling with arousal, and the silky heat of Nik's shaft felt mind-blowing. Nik kept his big hand clasped over Price's as he rocked his hips, finding the perfect pressure by squeezing in gentle encouragement. “John, da…” he growled, and Price glanced up from staring open mouthed at their pricks grinding together just in time to see the blissed flutter of Nik's eyes. “Da, just like that.”

Nik gently nudged Price’s feet apart so he could shift a little closer, the slow, graceful roll of his hips was mesmerising, practiced and at ease with the sensual rhythm of sex. They were out the main jets of the water, and soon precum was spilling over Price's hands as pleasure hummed through his core; snatched stuttering breaths between each roll of tension,.climbing steadily towards a heady peak. Nik kissed him, and Price’s head fell back against the glass with a dull thud, soft moans breaking past the seal of their lips. Price was mindless with bliss, pinned by the warm bulk of a man that set his blood on fire with want in a way he'd never experienced. As Nik's free hand wandered from his hip to squeeze the curve of his arse cheek, Price gasped softly, tensing a little as those strong fingers wandered to the sensitive skin of his cleft.

Nik left his lips to nuzzle through his beard. “Relax, solnyshko. I will not hurt you.”

“Nik, ‘m… be gentle, yeah?” Price rasped. Everything was tingling, he was so damn close to coming, but it was like it balanced just out of reach. Nik was being deliberately slow, the grind of his prick against Price's just enough to keep him on the precipice, immobilised by a tight coil of pleasure. Nik hummed against his neck and those strong fingers slid between Price's cheeks, stroking over his hole and down the back of his sac. No one had ever touched him there, and with both of his hands full, he felt distinctly vulnerable. His arse clenched, thighs tightening as Nik stroked back up.

Nik kissed his neck, his thick chest pressed so close Price could feel the mirror of his heartbeat. When Nik massaged back down, he pressed up a little at a spot just behind his balls, and began to rub in a firm circle. The heat spread through Price's hip in a deep ebb, and his legs damn shook. “Nik, Nik…”

“You are so sensitive. Made to take my cock,” Nik murmured into Price's shoulder, still grinding through Price's palms, just a touch faster. Price felt his orgasm build to a heady height, a deep, coiled knot. His shoulders tensed, his toes curling against the wet tiles, the incessant massage between his legs making him quake, his body tensing against something overwhelming. He sucked in another shuddering breath, and spread his legs a little.

“Da, there… John, relax into it, do not fight. Be good for me,” Nik growled.

A strangled noise broke from Price's throat as he came. It was so intense his eyes blotted with white and grey, his chest seizing tight as he sucked in shuddering breaths through wrecked moans. His cock sputtered thick ropes of cum, soaking his fists as Nik continued to fuck through them, his fingers still pressing up in insistent circles to eke out every ounce of pleasure as Price shook and gasped against him. He only eased off when Price's moans became more high-pitched and desperate, the grip of his hands faltering.

Nik caught him as his knees weakened, one arm scooping around his body, while he tilted Price's chin up for a deep, possessive kiss. He drew back, peppering gentler kisses against Price's lips, on his forehead, down his neck and the bobbing Adam's apple of his throat. When he guided Price around and urged his hands up against the glass, he went without protest, moaning softly when Nik's thick body pressed up against him, his cock sliding between Price's thighs. “You gonna fuck me?” Price asked, somewhat breathless.

“Your thighs now,” Nik murmured into his shoulder. “Then, later, your mouth, your hole. I will have all of you tonight.”

“Fuck…” Price’s head dropped between his shoulders, his thighs clamping around Nik's cock as it began to thrust between them, the heat of his shaft pressing up against Price's taint and balls, still sensitive from orgasm. He felt the rumble of Nik’s low moans against his back, and the softness of his lips, the nip of his teeth against the slope of his shoulder.

Every time Nik's hips pushed against the plush of his arse, his fat cock head leaked precum down the front of Price's thighs, so fucking aroused and eager. Price found himself fantasising about what it would feel like inside him, wet, and hot, and big, fucking him so deep he would feel Nik through the wall of his belly. It would rub that spot inside him, stretching him out, possessing him, and Price would be caged in by the muscular body pressed to his back, his arse up to be bred. Those big hands would clasp his hips as they did now, holding him down, spreading his legs. His mouth hung open as he panted, tilting his hips just enough for Nik to brush his hole a little. These were fantasies that had always hovered at the edge of his consciousness, but now they were stampeding forward, unlocked by the heady musk of Nik's body, the heat of his touch.

Nik moved faster, the wet slap of his skin joining the soft patter of water and Nik's low, rumbling moans. Price tilted his head back against Nik's shoulder only to look down quickly when he felt the thick shaft between his thighs begin to pulse and twitch. Nik came with a low, satisfied growl, drawing back just as little so his glans was squeezed by Price's thighs.

They stood in the soft afterglow, Nik drawing Price from the cold glass into the warmth of the water jets, turning him so they could kiss, slow and deep. Price ran his hands over the curves of Nik's body, squeezing greedily at every firm muscle and soft swell, arching into Nik's reciprocating touch like a cat. When Nik reached for the shower gel, Price leaned into his chest and mouthed at his throat, moaning softly at the first glide of soaped hands down his back. Nik washed him reverently, big palms working first down his back to his arse, sliding into his cleft in long passes that felt damn near possessive as they brushed his hole and the back of his sac.

“Will you give everything to me?” Nik whispered into the soft skin beneath Price's ear, sliding two fingers back and forth over his hole, big hand splayed beneath the curves of his arse. “Trust me to make love to you as you deserve, John.”

“Yeah, Nik… please… need this,” Price said, already semi hard as Nik's fingers pressed gently against his taint. He moaned softly, toes curling as Nik kissed down his throat. “Need you.”

Price felt the puff of amusement against his throat, and then the nuzzle of Nik's nose, before he drew away. Nik gathered Price’s hands in his and kissed the back of his knuckles before pressing a palm to the coarse stubble. “Finish your beer, take your time, the hot water will make you lightheaded.”

“Where… where are you goin’?”

“To make the room comfortable. I want no interruptions.”

“Olrigh', is there… uh, is there a special way I should… uh, y'know, clean up?”

Nik grinned and Price would have gone red if he hadn’t been flushed with heat already. “No, John. Just as you normally would. I am not, what do you say… precious.”

“Right, yeah,” Price coughed, scratching his chin, “yeah, makes sense.”

Nik stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel from the radiator. Price watched him through the misty window pane until he disappeared into the room, and then reached for the shower gel. Best be a gentleman and be thorough all over, you know, so Nik might want to do this again after tonight.

#I'm realizing I have been missing out on ships this whole time #Holy fuck #Nikprice has absolutely no reason to be this damn hot #One of the most delicious snacks I've eaten in a while #I need more #Oh dear god I need more

90 notes · View notes

bmtillerbabe · 1 month ago

Text

taking one (& another & another & another) for the team | soap x reader x ghost | inspired by: @softaestluv johnny's pent up blurb

It started as a joke. "I'm gonna die if I don't get my cock wet soon," Johnny whined, sprawled backward over the couch, legs spread, hand draped over his forehead like he was seconds away from his last breath. *"Swear I can feel it in my fucking molars, mate. I'm gonna explode."

At first, you and the others ignored him. Typical Soap — loud, dramatic, a walking sexual frustration PSA. But it didn't stop. If anything, it got worse: every mission debrief, every meal, every late-night sit around the barracks, Johnny lamented his poor, poor cock like it was a national tragedy.

When he started describing how tragic his wanks were — "My hand's too fuckin' rough, not the same, need something wet, something tight—" — you snapped. Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear: "Christ, Soap, I'll fuckin' take one for the team if it'll shut you up."

Johnny sat up like you'd just offered him oxygen.

Which is how you found yourself bent over the nearest flat surface, jeans yanked halfway down your thighs, Johnny pressed tight to your back, rutting into you like a man possessed.

"Fuck—fuckin' hell, love, yer savin' my life," he groaned, hips slamming into you like he was trying to crawl inside. "Warm 'n tight, fuck, could stay here forever."

You barely bit back a moan, hands braced hard enough to hurt. You weren't supposed to enjoy this, just do your duty to the squad’s sanity.

But then Johnny started whining again — not his usual loudmouth bitching, but these needy, half-choked sounds against the back of your neck.

"Need ya," he rasped, like he couldn't help himself. "Need yer cunt, fuck, not gonna be enough, need it again—'m not done—"

Even after he came — hot, messy, filling you to the brim — he didn't stop. Still rocking against you, still murmuring desperate filth into your skin, already hardening inside you again.

You realized then: You hadn't fixed the problem. You'd made it worse.

He barely pulled out before he was pushing right back in, thick and slick with his own cum, grinding into your overstretched walls like he could merge the two of you if he tried hard enough.

"Fuckin' perfect," Johnny slurred against your neck, teeth scraping along your skin. "Mine now, y'know that? Filled you up good—fuckin' claimed you—"

You tried to push him off, half-hearted at best — muscles trembling, brain fogged from how full you felt — but Johnny just wrapped an arm around your middle and held you there, hips rolling slow and filthy, fucking his own mess deeper inside.

"Nuh-uh, love," he muttered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, messy and possessive. "Said I'd lose my mind if I didn’t get to fuck you. Y’think one load's enough to fix this? After all that sufferin’?"

You whimpered, feeling his cock twitch again, fully hard despite just cumming. He chuckled low against your skin, voice dark and wrecked.

"Told ya I'd go mad. Now yer stuck with me, sweetheart."

He fucked you slow the second time — not like the frantic, desperate slamming from before, but a grinding, possessive rhythm, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you properly. Every time you clenched around him, he gasped, praising you in that ruined, filthy brogue.

"That's it, good girl," he breathed. "Take it all, take it like y'made for it. Fuckin' born to milk my cock, huh? Gonna pump you so full you won't remember what it feels like to be empty."

You felt him bulge even thicker inside you, grinding down into your cervix, every thrust stretching you wider, making you feel owned in a way that had nothing to do with orders or duty.

Johnny growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. You barely registered it before he was moving — hands gripping your hips, manhandling you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

"Wanna see," he panted, almost delirious. "Wanna see how fuckin' ruined you are for me."

Your legs were shoved open before you could think to protest, ankles tossed over his shoulders. Johnny leaned back just enough to look — and groaned, obscene and ragged.

"Fuckin' hell, look at that," he hissed, watching his cum leaking out of you, your cunt red and puffy, still clenching greedily around nothing. His cock throbbed in his hand, still wet, still ready.

"So messy, love. Drippin' for me already. Y'know what that means, don’t ya?"

You shook your head weakly, breath stuttering in your chest. Johnny just grinned, all teeth and danger.

"Means I’ve gotta fill you up again. 'Til you can't take any more."

Without warning, he lined himself up and pushed — forcing his cock back inside your sore, sloppy cunt in one thick, slow thrust. You cried out, back arching, and Johnny moaned like you were his whole damn salvation.

He didn’t give you a chance to breathe. Started fucking you immediately — deep, grinding strokes that had your whole body jolting with each brutal snap of his hips.

"That's it, that's it," he gasped, head tipping back, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it all, pretty thing. Gonna make sure yer stuck full of me. Walkin' round leakin' my cum for days."

Your brain barely worked anymore. Just open-mouthed whimpers, toes curling, walls spasming around him like you wanted it — wanted everything he was giving you and more.

Johnny's pace turned frantic again, slamming into you harder, the sound of skin against skin filthy and wet between you.

"Belong to me now," he growled, words punching out of him with each thrust. "No one else. Fuckin' mine."

You couldn’t even pretend to fight it. Couldn’t think past the way he filled you so perfectly, the overwhelming heat, the way his cock dragged along every sensitive spot inside you until you felt tears spring to your eyes.

He buried himself to the hilt one final time, grinding down against you, hips jerking as he spilled deep again, thick and endless. You could feel it — the heat, the stretch, the way he pulsed inside you like he was branding you from the inside out.

Johnny didn’t pull out. Just collapsed over you, mouth hot and messy against your jaw, still twitching inside your wrecked cunt.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "Still not enough. Need you again, love. Gonna fill you 'til you’re round with me, swear it."

Johnny stayed buried in you for a long moment, hips grinding lazy, slow circles, as if trying to force every last drop even deeper. You could feel it leaking out around his cock — hot, sticky, obscene — and you whimpered, overstimulated and wrecked.

Johnny noticed immediately. Growled against your throat, feral.

"Leakin'," he muttered, almost offended. "Can't have that. Gotta keep it all in, love. Need you drippin’ full for me."

He finally, finally pulled out — and the flood of cum that gushed out made you sob, weak and broken. But Johnny didn’t give you a second to recover. He dropped between your legs, shoving two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep and obscene, scooping the mess back up.

"No wastin' it," he rasped, fucking his cum right back into your cunt with slow, filthy thrusts. "Take it all, greedy girl. You fuckin' need it."

Your legs kicked weakly at the overstimulation, but Johnny just grinned — wild and unhinged — before spreading you wider, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit while he stuffed you full with his fingers.

"Gonna breed you proper," he whispered hoarsely. "Fill you so deep you’ll be round with me. Belly all heavy, stuffed full of my fuckin' load—"

You sobbed, hips rolling despite yourself, body desperate for more even as your mind shattered into static. You should have known it’d be like this — Johnny didn’t do anything by halves.

He leaned down, mouth dragging messy, possessive kisses along your trembling stomach like he could will it to swell.

"Mine," he murmured. "All fuckin' mine."

And that’s exactly when you heard the door creak open. You barely had the strength to lift your head, vision blurry — but you saw a tall shadow in the doorway.

Ghost.

He stood there, silent, unreadable behind his mask — just watching. Johnny didn't stop. Didn’t even slow down. He curled his fingers inside you again, making you cry out, making more of the mess spill down your thighs.

Ghost's head tilted slightly, almost curious.

"Problem?" Johnny barked over his shoulder, voice wrecked but cocky as hell. Like he wanted Ghost to see — to know.

Ghost said nothing. Just crossed his arms slowly over his broad chest.

Johnny smirked and turned his attention back to you, dragging his fingers out with a wet squelch just to stuff them right back in — slow and possessive.

"That's right," he said lowly, clearly for Ghost’s benefit now. "Had to take care of it myself. Filled her up so good she's fuckin' leaking. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"

You whimpered in response — too broken, too full, too wrecked to argue.

Ghost watched you for a long, heavy moment — chest rising and falling — before he spoke, voice flat and unreadable: "You better clean up after yourself, Soap."

Then, calmly — without another word — Ghost shut the door behind him with a click.

Johnny barked out a wild, breathless laugh against your stomach. "Come to help, mate?" he panted, fingers still lazily dragging through the wrecked mess of your cunt. "Think she needs it. Poor thing's so fuckin' stuffed already, can't hold it all."

Ghost didn’t answer. Didn't need to.

He stalked closer, heavy boots thudding against the floor, until he was standing right at the edge of the bed — looming over your trembling body. You watched through blurred eyes as he popped the button on his cargo pants, dragging the zipper down slowly, deliberately.

Johnny shifted you slightly, spreading your legs even wider, thumbs digging bruises into your hips to keep you open — presenting you like a ruined offering.

"C'mon, Ghost," Johnny muttered, voice rough and wild. "Don't leave the girl waitin'. Look how pretty she is—drippin' fuckin' ready."

Still silent, Ghost wrapped a hand around the base of his cock — thick, flushed, already leaking — and lined himself up.

He didn’t ease in. Just pressed the fat head against your already-used, dripping hole and pushed.

You screamed, body arching off the bed, overwhelmed instantly by the stretch, the pressure, the unbearable fullness of taking another man inside you without even a second to adjust.

Ghost let out a low, broken sound, not quite a grunt, not quite a moan, and buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

"There we fuckin' go," Johnny whispered against your ear, laughing breathlessly. "Take him, love. Take us both."

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Ghost fucked you without mercy — slow, devastating thrusts that forced Johnny’s mess and his own spit to spill down your thighs in filthy, wet streams. He said nothing — just breathing harshly through the fabric of his mask, hands brutal on your hips, using you like a living, breathing fucktoy.

Johnny kept whispering filth into your ear — encouragements, praises, commands — while Ghost destroyed you from the inside out.

"That's it, good girl," Johnny crooned, petting your hair while Ghost slammed into you. "Take it like you were fuckin' made for it."

You felt your mind fracturing — pure overstimulation, pure broken pleasure — as Ghost fucked you harder, grinding deep, his cock stretching you to the point of tears.

And then Johnny shifted again — ducking low between your legs to lick around where you were stuffed full, his tongue dragging over your overstretched rim every time Ghost pulled out just a fraction.

"Fuckin' hell," Johnny gasped, almost reverent. "Look at that, Ghost. Cunt's swallowin' you like she needs it."

Ghost let out another low, broken sound — and picked up the pace. The bed creaked violently under you, your body jolting with every brutal, punishing thrust.

You could feel it building — some dark, overwhelming climax you couldn’t fight — tightening low in your stomach, burning up your spine.

Ghost suddenly reached down and gripped your throat — not tight, just heavy, possessive — and that was it.

You shattered. Clamping down around him so hard Ghost actually groaned, thrusts going sloppy, brutal. And then you felt it — hot, thick, spilling deep inside you, Ghost’s cock pulsing violently, joining Johnny’s mess inside your ruined cunt.

You lay there twitching, barely conscious, as Ghost finally pulled out — slow, heavy — and watched as his cum immediately leaked out after him.

Johnny's hand was already there — catching it, stuffing it back inside you with lazy, satisfied fingers.

Ghost pulled his gloves back on silently, redressing with mechanical efficiency. Said nothing. Before he left, he pressed one gloved hand to your trembling thigh — firm, approving — and then disappeared out the door without a word.

Johnny leaned down over you, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

"Told ya, sweetheart," he whispered with a wicked grin. "Was gonna fill you proper."

And from the ache in your gut and the obscene mess between your thighs —you knew he wasn’t lying.

Morning hit like a slow, heavy sledgehammer.

You barely even remembered falling asleep — just flashes: Johnny fucking his cum deeper into you with lazy, loving thrusts while you sobbed into the sheets; Ghost’s heavy hand gripping your thigh one last time before disappearing without a word.

Now your entire body ached. Your thighs were sore, trembling even at the slightest twitch. Your pussy was a wreck — raw, swollen, still leaking a slow, lazy drip of milky white that soaked into the crumpled sheets beneath you.

You tried to shift — to roll onto your side — and whimpered immediately. Everything hurt. You could feel the mess drying on your skin, inside your cunt, coating your thighs.

And Johnny, of course, was already awake.

He lay stretched out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, a smug, satisfied smirk spread wide across his face.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he drawled, voice rough from use, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Sleep well?"

You glared at him weakly, too exhausted to even muster words. Johnny just grinned wider.

"Y’look wrecked," he said cheerfully, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. "Proper job, that."

You tried to move again — a pathetic, sluggish attempt — and Johnny laughed, full-bodied and warm.

"Aw, poor thing. Can’t even fuckin' walk, huh?"

His hand drifted down — over your collarbone, the bruises he’d left, the fingerprints, the possessive marks — until he palmed your lower belly, pressing down just slightly.

You gasped, muscles clenching reflexively around the lingering mess inside you.

Johnny's grin turned wolfish.

"Still full, are ya?" he murmured. "Good girl. Holdin’ it all for us."

He sat up slowly, bare chest gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat, and pulled back the sheets.

You whimpered as cool air brushed your ruined, sore cunt — thighs automatically trying to close, to hide yourself.

Johnny tsked softly, spreading you open with two rough hands like you were something precious to be displayed.

He hummed low in his throat — a sound of satisfaction.

"Ghost’ll be pleased," he muttered, almost to himself.

You blinked sluggishly at him, confused.

Johnny chuckled and gestured toward the nightstand. There — sitting neatly next to a bottle of water — was a simple piece of paper. No name. No explanation. Just three short words, written in Ghost’s heavy, blocky scrawl: “Hold it in.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest.

Johnny laughed again — delighted, wrecked — and leaned down to press a filthy, claiming kiss to the inside of your trembling thigh.

"Guess we’re not done after all, love," he whispered against your skin. "Orders are orders."

And from the wicked glint in his eye, you knew you weren’t getting a break anytime soon.

10K notes · View notes