screaming--lamb - Tumblr blog

[screaming--lamb]

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

[screaming--lamb]

Reblog if you think it’s okay to platonically say “I Love You” to your friends

[screaming--lamb]

10 children a day lose their limbs in Gaza. All hospitals in Gaza are basically barely functioning and the amputations are done in unsanitary conditions and without anesthesia

[screaming--lamb]

When you're writing and you suddenly realize you don't know what happens next

[screaming--lamb]

why be smart when u can be puppy

[screaming--lamb]

He's The Guy You Wanna Do(And You Know It Takes Two)

Part 2 of YGDJLHM

Part 1|2

Ghoap ft Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Summary: Price joined them the last time, now it's Gaz's turn.

Content warnings: pet play, humiliation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, spitting

Word Count: 2,788

"Were you serious?"

Soap and Ghost were in Ghost's barracks, the Lieutenant sharpening his knives as Soap sits nearby and watches. Soap had been sweet and pliant in the few days that had passed since the events in Ghost's office, which was usual in the aftermath. It's part of why Ghost calls him 'pet', that and his damn puppy eyes. He'd gotten rewarded numerous times, sometimes for menial tasks. Soap had to admit, while bratting was exciting, this was nice too.

"Hmm?"

"When you were talking to Price about," Soap gestures bashfully, "Gaz, and—and Alejandro and Rudy."

Ghost looks up from his knife, an unreadable expression on his face as he practically inspects Soap.

"Gonna have to be more specific, Johnny. We talk about that lot loads." Ghost knew exactly what he was talking about, he just liked torturing Soap. Soap huffs slightly, leaning forward.

"You know."

"Not sure if I do."

"Few days ago...in your office."

The corners of Ghost's lips quirk up slightly in some form of restrained smirk. He flips the knife in his hand a few times before motioning to himself.

"Come here, pet."

Soap shuffles over, moving to stand between Ghost's spread thighs. Ghost places his hands on Johnny's hips, still holding the knife in one.

"You like that idea, puppy?"

Soap nods his head, not looking away from the other man for a second. Ghost's hands tighten their grip on Soap's hips, certainly leaving bruises for later.

"Words."

"Yes," Ghost gives him a pointed look, "Yes sir, I do." Ghost tilts his head in approval.

"Well, if you like it, I'm sure some arrangements can be made."

Soap nods again, "Please, sir."

Ghost hums, pressing his lips to Soap's as he pulls the man down to sit on his lap, already figuring out how to satisfy the man in his hands. He had to talk to Price first.

How the fuck do they always end up back in Ghost's office. The thought flits in and out of Soap's pleasure addled mind. He knew Ghost had talked about arrangements but he never thought it would be so soon—he never though Gaz would be so quick to agree. The three had went back to Ghost's office for late night drinks after a long day, Ghost taking his seat behind his desk and pouring glasses of bourbon for the Sergeants sitting in front of him. A few refills had Soap clinging onto whoever was closest to him, that person being Gaz. Another drink had him crawling into the equally drunk man's lap.

Just like Soap was Ghost's, Gaz was Price's boy. He belonged to the captain, who was very enthusiastic about hearing how this night would end.

For a while, the two forgot about their company. Soap initiating a rough kiss, Gaz returning it with enthusiasm as the two clumsily grind into each other. Soap rocking forward as Gaz greedily bucks up, both desperate for more. When the two stop to breath for air, Gaz catches sight of Ghost, eyes widening as he looks at the man. Ghost had pushed his mask up even more, leaning back in his chair with his glass of bourbon in hand, watching the two. When Soap ducks towards him for another kiss, he turns his head slightly. Quite literally fearing for his life. This makes Soap whine but reroute, aiming for his neck instead.

Gaz whimpers lowly, frantically looking anywhere in the room that isn't either of the other men. When Soap starts mouthing over a particularly sweet spot behind his ear he gasps loudly, slapping his hands onto Soap's thighs and gripping harshly, pulling him closer before letting go again when he sees Ghost smile crookedly out of the corner of his eye, mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose.

"You can touch him. I'm quite enjoying the show."

Gaz turns his head to look fully at Ghost, subsequently giving Soap more room to nip behind his ear. He moans, holding eye contact with Ghost as he slowly drags his hands over Soap's body, gripping his thighs once again and frantically thrusting up. He could feel his orgasm coming quickly and from the nonstop noises coming from Soap he guessed the other man was close too.

"Stop."

Soap stops his movements almost immediately, whimpering pathetically as his orgasm is stolen away from him. The obedience surprises Gaz enough that he stops as well.

"Good, puppy. Gaz," The man in question whines, "I see Price trained you well."

The praise makes him buck up before restraining himself. Soap cries out, throwing his head back at the motion. Gaz pulls him even closer, burying his head in Soap's neck. He noses up and down, pressing chaste kisses to his neck.

Ghost stands up, slowly making his way towards the two. He moves so he's standing pressed against Soap's back before staying completely still. He stays like this for a few seconds before abruptly grabbing Soap's hips, just above Gaz's hands, and forcefully rocking him forward. Soap and Gaz moan in unison, Gaz removing his face from Soap's neck to blink blearily up at Ghost.

Ghost wraps a large hand around the front of Soap's neck, squeezing slightly and pushing a choked out noise from the man. He takes his other hand and grips Gaz's jaw with it, taking his thumb over his mouth, pulling Gaz's bottom lip down before letting it go and brushing the thumb against his cheek instead.

"Have you noticed yet, the way his voice changes as he gets close?" The question is directed at Gaz, "Or the way his breath hitches once he's on the edge?"

Gaz nods, breathing heavily, unsure of whether or not Ghost expects him to speak.

"I asked you a question."

There's his answer.

"I—I did, sir."

Ghost hums, not expecting the Sergeant to pick up on the title so soon.

"I can see why Johnny's so attracted to you."

Gaz sneaks a glance at Soap, finding his doe eyes staring. Not at Ghost, but directed at him. Gaz positively melts under the attention, taking his hands off of Soap's thighs and bringing them up to loosely wrap around Ghost's wrist.

"Please," His breath catches, "Please, sir. Can I move? Wanna make him feel good."

Ghost tilts his chin up, something akin to pride showing on his face.

"You can move, Kyle," He takes the hand wrapped around Soap's throat and moves it to grip his hair tightly, "But you, pet, will stay still. Be good for Kyle, don't disrupt him."

Soap nods as best he can with Ghost's firm grip.

"Yes—yes, sir."

When Ghost lets go of both of them, leaning back on his desk, Gaz begins to move. Starting off slow, he rocks his hips up. Soap desperately grasps at his body, wrapping an arm around his neck and gripping Gaz's shirt with the other hand.

Gaz follows suit, manhandling Soap by his waist and pushing him down as Gaz grinds up faster.

"Pull his hair. And wrap one of those pretty hands around his neck."

Gaz obeys. Tugging roughly on Soap's mohawk as his other hand shoots up to grab softly at his neck, making him cry loudly, squeezing his eyes shut and shoving his head down, pulling against Gaz's grip.

"Open your eyes, pet."

Soap scrunches his face, keeping his eyes closed in pleasure. Ghost is about to say something else, but Gaz makes a split second decision. He yanks Soap's head back, squeezing the sides of his neck harshly to cut off blood flow. He watches as Soap's eyes shoot open to stare at him before they roll back in his head as Soap lets out a guttural moan.

Soap's moans get faster and higher in pitch as Gaz lets go of his neck before squeezing again, repeating the motions as he pulls Soap in for a sloppy kiss. It's more teeth than anything else. Spit drips down both of their chins, making the two even messier and desperate. Abruptly, Soap goes limp in Gaz's hold, his breath hitches as he whimpers and trembles pathetically, breaking the kiss to shove his head into Gaz's chest, ears tinging red with embarrassment. Gaz stops as he realize what happened, whining as he feels Soap soak through his trousers and onto his own.

"I don't believe I told you to stop, Kyle."

"He came, sir." Gaz groans, rocking his hips as he looks at Ghost's now fully uncovered face, unsure when he took the mask off.

"Oh, you know better than that, pup."

"Sorry, sorry s'r, ah—ah didnae mean to." His accent gets thicker as he drops further, slurring every other word.

"It's not me you need to apologize to, puppy."

Soap raises his head, resting his chin on Gaz's chest so he can look up at him.

"'m sorry, Kyle."

"'S okay, Johnny." Gaz pulls him in for yet another kiss, quickly becoming addicted to the feel and taste of the man in his lap.

"Get up, pet."

Soap whines, pressing his lips onto Gaz's even harder.

"Johnny." Ghost's voice is dangerous, a promise of punishment if Soap doesn't get his act together and listen. Soap comes to his senses, sliding off of Gaz's lap. He takes a step towards Ghost before thinking twice, getting onto his hands and knees and crawling towards the man, stopping in front of him with his head hanging down, awaiting instruction. A perfect act of submission.

Ghost pushes off his desk, feeling the two sets of eyes watch him as he walks to the small loveseat against the wall, seemingly unaffected by the events going down despite the obvious bulge in his pants saying otherwise. He sits down, spreading his legs before beckoning Soap over, who trips over himself in his haste. Soap stops at Ghost's side, who runs a hand through his hair, petting Soap as he orders Gaz to do the same.

Gaz doesn't hesitate, quickly sliding down from his chair and deciding to crawl towards Ghost like Soap did. He makes his way across the room, moving to side on Ghost's other side but being stopped by the larger man. Ghost directs Gaz to rest in between his legs, head resting on Ghost's thigh. He knows he's made all the right decisions when he's rewarded with Ghost's other hand moving to card through his hair as well.

"You did well, Kyle. Got Johnny off real nice, didn't you? Did so well, he forgot to ask permission."

While Gaz preens at the words, Soap whines at them, upset at Ghost for passively degrading him when he'd already apologized.

"Hush, puppy. You already got your fill. I think it's time we reward Kyle now."

Soap quiets. Both of the boys at Ghost's feet looking up at him, awaiting his next order.

"Kyle," Gaz perks up, shifting restlessly in anticipation, "Sweet boy, you want to fuck Johnny?"

Soap moans wantonly as Gaz nods eagerly. Moving in an attempt to get at Soap, desperate to do something, anything, to the other man. But he's blocked by Ghost.

"Settle down. Forgetting yourself already, Kyle? That's okay. You've been so good otherwise, I won't punish you."

"Please." Gaz drags the word out, tacking 'Sir' on the end as an afterthought.

"Eager little thing. You'll please Johnny, won't you? You have once, I know you can do it again. Go ahead."

And with that, Ghost pulls away, leaving Gaz to his own devices. Gaz drags Soap over to him so they're both seated in front of Ghost before tearing Soap's shirt off, pants and underwear following.

Gaz curses as Soap's dick springs out, already fully hard again. He leans down, swallowing Soap halfway. Gaz's hands move to Soap's waist, holding him down as his hands fly to Gaz's hair. He slowly bobs his head, taking more of Soap into his mouth with every movement until eventually he's buried at the hilt.

He stays in place long enough for Soap to start whining and grappling wherever he can reach. Finally, he moves. Slow at first, teasing Soap with sloth like movements. Pulling all the way off when he moves up, licking and kissing along the side of his cock.

He takes Soap in his mouth again, speeding up his pace as he listens to Soap moan endlessly above him.

"Swallow around him. He particularly enjoys that." Ghost's voice interrupts Soap's.

Gaz obeys, relishing in the way Soap's cries get louder and Ghost makes a pleased sound. He continues a few minutes more before pulling off and undressing himself, tossing his clothes to the side and flipping Soap over on his hands and knees. He curses, turning to look at Ghost with wide questioning eyes. The larger man smiles in amusement, rummaging in his breast pocket and pulling out travel sized bottle of lube. He hands it to Gaz who thanks him quickly. Opening the bottle, he squirts some of his fingers, coating them generously and pressing one gently into his hole. Mesmerized by the way Soap arches his back, shoving himself backwards and greedily taking Gaz's finger, Gaz almost misses Ghost speaking to him.

"You ought to start carrying that around. Once Johnny gets a taste of you, he'll be begging for you anywhere."

Gaz slips a second finger in, watching Soap whine and squirm as he pumps his fingers steadily. Soon enough he adds a third, quickly finding Soap's prostate if the way he practically squeals is anything to go by. Gaz scissors his fingers a few more times before pulling them out and picking the bottle of lube back up, he coats his cock and pours some on Soap's hole, not wanting him to be in pain no matter how much Gaz stretched him.

Lining himself up, Gaz pushes the head in, gently thrusting little by little. He bottoms out the same time as Ghost's zipper slides open, looking over to watch him pull his cock out.

"Bloody hell." Gaz grips Soap's waist, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Soap's back. After a minute of resting there, attempting to get used to the tight heat wrapped around him, he finally moves. Gently at first, slow enough that he's sure he's not hurting Soap. But it's not enough. Soap reaches a hand back, blinding gripping Gaz's hip.

"Please," He whispers the same word over and over, "Faster, please."

"What did I say?" Ghost's voice is stern and although it's not directed at him, Gaz shivers at the sound of it, at the implications nestled in the tone. How the man can sound so unaffected while jerking himself off, Gaz will never know. "Quiet, pet. You don't control anything here. This is Kyle's reward."

Soap murmurs a quick 'yes sir' and Gaz takes the hand resting on his hip and entwines his fingers with Soap's. Soap's grip is tight, overwhelmed with the sensation of being fucked, prostate being hit on every thrust. It's different. Where Ghost and Price are both rough and domineering, Gaz is softer, gentle and as eager to obey as Soap is.

"Stroke his pretty dick for me, Kyle."

Gaz reaches around Soap, grabbing his erection, relishing in the way Soap clenches around his cock. Soap mewls, trying his best to stay still as Gaz jerks him off quickly. Gaz's thrusts get faster as he gets closer to the edge, desperately chasing his own orgasm while trying to give Soap his as well.

Soap cums first, Gaz's hand being painted white. He goes limp in Gaz's arms, moaning breathlessly as Gaz finally cums inside him, cock pulsing deliciously. The two rest on each other, barely moving as Ghost moves from where he was sitting to stand next to both of them, still pumping his own dick furiously. He groans, hips stuttering as he cums into Gaz's open mouth.

Instead of swallowing, Gaz closes his mouth and tips his head down before capturing Soap's lips in an open mouthed kiss. Ghost moans above them and Gaz can feel the cum dripping from his mouth to Soap's, causing them to become even messier than they previously were. He ruts his hips slightly, still seated inside of Soap who breaks the kiss with a gasp, pitching forward against Ghost's leg.

Gaz is more sensitive than before, it doesn't take long before he's cumming inside of Soap again, the other man sobbing from over stimulation. It makes him feel guilty yet prideful at the same time. He takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking up.

"Do I have t' make an appointment t' do th's again, or?"

Soap chuckles as Ghost barks out a sharp laugh, ruffling both their hair.

"Come on, I'll get you two cleaned up."

[screaming--lamb]

thinking about young!johnny who hasn't enlisted yet having an awkward time in a bar. cause as confident as he is usually, this is a place where he's out of his element.

thinking about much older!ghost, who's seen war, been to hell and back, finding this pretty thing sitting at the bar nursing a scotch, all alone since his friends left him. older!ghost deciding he wants johnny right at that moment. knowing in his heart johnny's meant to kneel at a firmer hand. ghost's hand

[screaming--lamb]

Reblog to kill it faster

[screaming--lamb]

Drink me, eat me, then you'll see the light

Part 1 of YGDJLHM

GhostSoap ft Price

Summary: Johnny's a brat that needs to be put in his place.

Content warnings: pet play, degradation, impact play, slight name calling

Word count: 3,000

"Steamin' Jesus—Ghost!" Soap grunts as Ghost drags him down the halls with a vice-like grip on his arm. Eventually they stop at Ghost's office, the lieutenant digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock the room, unceremoniously shoving Soap through the door so he stumbles on a chair, ending up on his knees on the floor as Ghost walks in behind him, not bothering to lock the door.

Soap attempts to get up onto his feet as Ghost walks past but is stopped by the larger man's hand resting on his shoulder and shoving him back down. Soap glares at Ghost, the other man ignoring him in favor of sitting in the chair behind his desk, splaying out like a king on his throne. And although Soap has the urge to get up, to directly disobey Ghost, he stays where he is, wanting to see how this plays out. Ghost stays silent, not even sparing a passing glance at Soap as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out from a drawer, taking off his mask and lighting it. He takes a few drags before beckoning Soap over with his fingers.

Soap stands, taking a few steps towards Ghost before his voice rings out.

"Did I say you could stand?" Ghost's eyes bore into his, the hand not holding his cigarette clenches. His voice makes a shiver go down Soaps spine, makes him want to obey despite himself. "Get back down and do it properly, mutt." The title makes him even harder.

Begrudgingly, Soap gets back down on the floor, taking his time getting on all fours and arching his back just so. He crawls over to Ghost, looking up at him through his eyelashes the whole way over, eventually settling in between the man's spread legs.

Ghost threads his fingers through Soap's hair, gripping and pulling so his head tilts back, forcing him to hold back an embarrassing noise as he bares his neck. Using the grip he has on Soap's hair, Ghost turns Soap's head from side to side, as if he was inspecting him.

"You want to tell me what you were doing with that new recruit?"

The words were phrased like a question but Soap knew damn well it was a command.

"I dinnae know what you mean, L.t."

"You know bloody well exactly what I mean, sergeant."

Ghost lets go of his head roughly, taking another deep drag of his cigarette before unzipping his pants, pulling them as well as his boxers down to his thighs. If at all possible, he seems to lounge back in his chair even farther.

"Well? I've got a meeting with Price in twenty. Best get started, unless you want him seeing you sucking me like a proper bitch."

The man's words make him let out a small whine despite himself. From the smug smile on his face, Ghost takes pride in it.

Soap kisses up and down Ghost's dick, sucking on the tip gently before he slowly inches down towards the base, ways to get back at Ghost circling his mind. Only one stands out, and it'll end with his ass raw.

Soap reaches down to palm himself through his pants and gently nips Ghost's dick, not hard enough to damage, but enough to sting a little.

The man immediately pulls him off, rearing his hand back and smacking Soap across the face. His head snaps to the side as he moans loudly, his hand still working his own cock through his pants.

Ghost kicks his hand away, pressing the sole of his boot down hard on Soaps cock. Johnny gasps, moaning again at the painful pressure as his hips rut up against Ghost's shoe.

"I ought to fucking muzzle you so you don't pull a stunt like that again, maybe cut out your pretty little tongue so you can't talk back constantly."

"Si—Simon."

Simon slaps him again before grabbing Johnny and dragging him up and bending him over his desk, shoving his face into the wood.

"What did you call me?"

Johnny catches his breath, turning his face to the side so his nose isn't crammed in the desk.

"Simon."

Simon brings a hand down on his ass, the sound ringing throughout the room.

"Oh, you fucking asshole! Maybe I should go to that recruit, at least he won't ignore me half the day and then not even have the decency to fuck me."

Simon goes deathly quiet long enough for a pang of fear to hit Johnny. Then he laughs. Fucking laughs.

"So that's it, huh? The little whores getting pissy all because he's not getting dicked down three times a day."

Johnny flushes as a wave of embarrassment rolls over him.

"Well don't worry sweetheart. I'll make sure you get what you want."

The words confuse Johnny, he wasn't expecting compliance. But before he can think on the matter any further, Simon is pulling off Johnny's clothes and tucking himself back in his boxers.

Simon sits back down in his chair, pulling Johnny with him so he's sitting sideways on Simon's lap. He taps Johnny's jaw.

"Open. Tongue out."

Johnny obeys, still suspicious of the other man. Simon works his jaw as he looks down at Johnny and opens his mouth as well, letting spit drip down into Johnny's open mouth.

"Swallow."

He swallows and opens his mouth back up right after, sticking his tongue out, knowing it's what Simon expects. Simon pats his cheek condescendingly before taking two fingers and shoving them into his mouth. Johnny starts sucking on them before Simon even gives the order. Simon grins toothily at his sudden obedience.

"There's my sweet boy. All you need is some roughing up, and your right where you belong, all pliant beneath me."

And it's true. Johnny would—and has before—grovel at Simon's feet, just for that dominance, just for Simon to take him over his knee so that he can't sit the next morning, so that everyone knows that he belongs to Simon. Ever since they started this relationship, Simon has owned every part of him. No matter how much he's flirted, or joked about fucking the rest of the 141, he's completely and utterly Simon's.

Johnny whines as Simon fucks his mouth with his fingers, his cock leaking on Simon's shirt.

"Look at me."

Simon pulls his fingers from his mouth. Johnny whines, grabbing Simon's wrist as he opens his eyes. Simon laughs as he pulls his hand away.

"Trust me, pet, you'll enjoy this more."

Simon brings his hand down, toying at Johnny's rim with spit soaked fingers. Simon slips a finger inside and Johnny chokes on his breath, shoving his face in Simon's neck and mouthing along it, desperate for something in his mouth as well.

This goes on for a few minutes, Simon just teasing Johnny, dipping a finger inside then pulling out, leaving Johnny a wet mess.

"Please," He whimpers, pawing at Simons still clothed chest.

"What was that?"

"Please, Sir, stop teasing. 'S mean."

"I think it's only fair, pet, you were so mean to me when you were so shamelessly flirting with that recruit."

Johnny's eyes start to well up, his voice trembles slightly as he speaks, burying his head in the crook of Simon's neck once again.

"Di'nt wanna be mean. Were ignoring me. Wanted you to notice me."

"Don't hide from me," Simon pulls Johnny's head up by his hair, "I always notice you, Johnny. You think I didn't want to bend you over right there? Show 'em all they can't have you? I wanted to cut off that guys hand when he touched you. I would have too."

Johnny moans wantonly, bucking his hips and grinding into the air.

A knock sounds on the door, Johnny snaps his mouth shut at the noise, scrambling to get off of Simon's lap. It proves fruitless as Simon pulls him back down, grabbing one of Johnny's thighs and pulling his legs apart as he shoves two fingers inside his ass making Johnny cry out loudly.

"Come in."

The door opens revealing Price, looking incredibly annoyed.

"Lieutenant, you'd best have a damn good reason for being late—"

He stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the sight in front of him. Price shuts and locks the door before stepping forward and crossing his arms.

"Captain. Sit down, you enjoying the view?"

One side of Prices mouth quirks up as he drops into the chair across from Simon and Johnny.

"He does make quite the sight."

"Yes, he does. Pet, say hello to our guest."

Johnny lets out little gasps with each pump of Simon's fingers, his eyes fluttering.

"Johnny. Be polite."

His head is heavy but he lifts it anyway, looking John in the eyes.

"Hi." His response is weak and barely loud enough to be heard, the other two men chuckle at it.

"So sorry I missed the meeting, but this one here was just being such a bitch, I couldn't help it." Simon enunciates the words with a press of his fingers into Johnny's prostate. He keens at the movement, still holding eye contact with John.

"Looks like you've gotten him back in line."

Simon hums, "Took longer than it should have, but he started listening."

Simon drags out his fingers and pushes Johnny to the floor, placing a heavy boot on the small of his back when he tries to push himself up.

"Why don't you show the captain how good you can be, pet? And don't pull that shit you did with me."

"What'd he do?"

"The little cunt threw a fit and bit me."

It turned Johnny on immensely, the way the two talked about him like he wasn't there. He starts crawling over to John, not wanting to make the same mistake he did earlier. Simon was being so nice to him, after all.

When Johnny reaches the captain, he settles with his hands on his lap, not touching the man without permission, and looks up at him through his lashes, tear stains on his cheeks.

"Go on," Simon speaks from behind him, "Be good for John."

John was nice enough to unbutton his jeans for him, so Johnny takes the zipper between his teeth, the cold metal clinking as he pulls it down. John takes himself out of his underwear and he whines at the sight, once again being laughed at by the other two.

John was almost as big as Simon, being maybe an inch shorter but thick enough to make up for lost inches.

Johnny takes the head in his mouth and suckles at it, slowly moving inch by inch to the base.

John groans, "He's got a perfect mouth. You trained him well, Simon."

"It's one of the best things about him when he's not constantly barking at you."

John groans again as Johnny bobs his head, rocking his hips so he pushes his cock even farther into Johnny's mouth.

"You think Gaz could get some use out of him?" Simon inquires, "Or the Vaqueros?"

"I think so," Despite his groans of pleasure, John barely sounded affected by Johnny as he spoke. "I know Gaz would want him. Alejandro and Rodolfo may be able to figure something out. Why?"

The air changes and the next time Simon speaks comes from directly behind him.

"Johnny isn't satisfied until he's been fucked so many times he can't function," Simon crouches down and speaks directly into his ear, "That's what started this whole thing, isn't it, sweetheart?"

The nickname isn't said with the same fondness as before, instead it's with a condescending tone that goes straight to Johnny's cock.

"Might as well get on with it then."

John pulls him off as he says the words, as soon as he lets go of Johnny, he's diving right back to put his mouth back on the mans cock. But John holds him back with a hand over his mouth.

"I get what you mean. He certainly is a needy little bitch."

Simon drags him to his feet by his armpits, practically throwing him onto the desk on his back with the command to stay put. He motions towards Johnny as if he were a star prize being bought by John and steps back.

"You have the honors, captain."

Johnny watches as John stops between his legs, grabbing them and wrapping them around his waist before sinking two fingers into his ass.

"Oh, fuck." John whispers.

Simon makes his way to stand by Johnny's head, opening his pants just enough to pull his cock out, letting it hang over Johnny's face.

John shoves a third finger inside him as Simon grips his jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Simon shoves his dick into his mouth, letting out a low growl with the action. He moves his hand from Johnny's jaw to grip his neck, feeling his throat bulge slightly from his cock. His mind clouds over, and Johnny doesn't realize John removed his fingers until he's spearing him on his cock, making him moan, sending vibrations up Simon's cock.

The two move in tandem, when Simon thrusts in, John pulls out, and vice versa. It takes a few thrusts, but eventually John finds his prostate, and once he does he doesn't relent, hitting it on every thrust, making him practically scream.

"That your spot, love?"

Johnny whimpers, eyes watering again, tears spilling over as his superiors fuck him roughly, pushing him up and down the desk as he grinds into the air silently begging for someone to touch his dick. When neither one does he decides to take matters into his own hands, gripping his cocky and jerking himself in time with the other men's thrusts.

He's surprised when John is the one to smack his hand away.

"Neither of us told you to do that, did we? Simon, you didn't give your boy permission to cum did you?"

Simon hums, speaking indirectly to Johnny, "He can cum all he wants, but he's not allowed to touch himself, and no matter how much he cums, we're not stopping."

The two fuck into him impossibly harder, making him keen and moan. Simon stops moving, shoving his cock as deep as it can go before spilling into his mouth.

"Don't spill any—fuck Johnny."

Despite his best attempts to swallow it all, some of Simon's cum spills out of his mouth, rolling down the sides of his face to pool onto the table. Simon pries his mouth open again, this time not to push his cock in but to once again spit in it. An action of ownership, showing even though he's letting John fuck his boy, he still belongs to Simon. Johnny turns red, no matter how much he loves it it's still a humiliating action, especially in front of others. It makes Johnny cum, gasping and whimpering as his back arches. John fucks him harder, searching for his own release, causing Johnny to cry harder. He whines out something unintelligible, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What was that, pet?"

"Too—too much."

"I told you we wouldn't stop if you came, that's your own fault." Simon runs a hand over Johnny's face lightly. "Pet. Do you want to stop?" His voice turns soft and John slows down as they wait for his answer.

Johnny shakes his head vehemently.

"Words, love."

"No," Johnny's voice in breathy, "No sir."

Simon nods at John and he pulls out, flipping Johnny onto his stomach before he starts thrusting again, quickly picking up speed. Johnny's cock perks up again quickly as John hits his prostate consistently, pushing breathy moans out of Johnny.

It only takes all of a minute for John to reach his climax, completely ready to pull out but he's stopped by Johnny begging him to cum inside. His hips stutter as he cums deep inside of Johnny, pulling out when he's finished to watch it drip out of his hole. John curses, dipping down to press his mouth over Johnny's hole, licking inside and cleaning his cum out of him. Johnny yelps at the unexpected intrusion. Simon clicks his tongue, scruffing the back of Johnny's neck and pulling his head up. Johnny's eyes open slightly, crossing at the pleasure.

"You make such pretty noises, pet. But I believe I told you not to spill any of my cum, no?"

He drops Johnny's head back onto the desk, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it.

"Clean up your mess."

Johnny laps at the cum on the desk, moaning, stuck between grinding his cock on the edge of Simon's desk and pushing back on John's tongue. With the constant humiliation and pressure on his cock and ass, Johnny cums hard. Vision whiting out as his knees buckle and he collapses onto the desk.

--------------------------------------------------------

Johnny wakes up with his eyes still closed. Unintelligible speaking coming from voices he recognizes as Simon and the captain. His head is still fuzzy, still partially being in his headspace. He opens his eyes, finding himself on the small couch in Simon's office, buried under a blanket as the other two sit just a foot away from him, glasses of bourbon in front of them as they talk. He pulls a heavy arm out from under the blanket, whining lowly as he rubs it over his face. The two men stop talking and look towards him.

"How're you feeling, sweetheart?" Simon asks, getting out of his chair to sit on the arm of the couch next to Johnny's head.

"Feel good. Thirsty."

John throws Simon a water bottle off the desk, he opens it and places it to Johnny's mouth, holding it for him.

"Go slow."

"Th'nk you. 'M sorry."

"What for, love?"

Even after all that, they still tease him.

"F'r bein' a brat. And biting your dick."

Simon laughs at that, ruffling his hair.

"I forgive you pet."

Johnny closes his eyes again and falls back asleep to the sound of Simon and John continuing their conversation.

[screaming--lamb]

Masterlist

I'm Eon (he/they)

most of my work is COD but I do write for other fandoms

I write smut but will write other things, usually if asked

a lot of my stuff is dark, i try to tag appropriately but please lmk if you think i tagged something wrong or left out a tag

most of what i write is also puppy play/pet play

my ao3

my writing tag is #eonwrites

asks are always open!

Hard limits under the cut

Things I will not write: necrophilia, emetophilia (gagging and choking I will, but nothing past that), scat, extreme body modifications (dismemberment), age play, adult/minor relationships (i will write age gaps, small or large as long as they're legal)

I do write gore and noncon/dubcon but I do take caution with it

List may be updated

Standalones

COD

Ignorance (Ghost x male reader):

Run (Keegan P Russ x trans!male reader)

YBDOYKAYC (GhostSoapRoach)

Ghost (band)

Kinktober 2023: ao3

Series

COD

You Go Down Just Like Holy Mary(in progress)

Part 1

Part 2

Imagines

age gap

[screaming--lamb]

You'll be down on your knees and you'll cry

09 GhostSoapRoach

Summary: Gary whimpered as Simon bottomed out in one quick motion, cursing. “Johnny said no…” He murmurs, too tired to push Simon off or fight him. “Johnny isn’t fucking here.” Simon growls

Content warnings: mild dubcon, chastity, ownership, (sorta) forced sex, puppy play

Word count: 2,048

Roach didn’t really know how he ended up in a relationship with two of his superiors. All he knew was that it worked out, and he finally fit somewhere. He had known something was going on with his Captain and his Lieutenant for a long time, often wishing he could have something like they had, never expecting them to invite him to join. Never expecting to become their regular fuck buddy, and then the latest addition to their relationship.

Johnny has always been in charge—that’s how he’s always liked it—it just makes sense that that would translate into the bedroom. But Simon hates not being in charge, hates not knowing what’ll come next. He’s the person Gary would least expect to be submissive in the bedroom, and, surprisingly, even outside the bedroom when it’s just the three of them. It was easy finding his place in the relationship, Gary had always liked letting go, submitting to someone for a little and just floating. Forgetting everything outside of the moment. Johnny liked having another man to take care of, in and outside of bed, and Simon never minded having a…playmate as Johnny would so often call it. The term degrading in such an intoxicating way.

Simon is constantly surprising him. Every time Gary turns around, Simon is doing something he never expects.

Simon fucks like a rabbit. Gary is convinced Simon has the highest sex drive out of the three of them, constantly wanting to get off. It’s no wonder Johnny calls him bunny and mutt. The man would stoop as low as humping someones leg if they ordered him to, which has happened but that’s a story for another day.

Simon and Gary both wear collars, Simon’s a little more worn from use, but they’re both worn incredibly frequently, both a rich black leather, thin with an o-ring on the fronts of them. The only difference being the tags attached. Both of theirs have the words Property Of J.M inscribed on the backs of the tags, but on the fronts it’s completely different, the words put there specially by Johnny. On Gary’s, it reads, Good Boy. And on Simon’s, Needy Toy.

Their most frequently used nicknames.

It’s always getting Simon in trouble. Johnny has rules for the two of them, and one of the big ones is neither of them cum unless Johnny says so. As long as they’re not in trouble, they’re aloud to fuck as much as they want, but they aren’t aloud to cum. This is the main rule that gets Simon in trouble.

Just like now.

About four days ago Gary had been with Johnny in his office, leaving Simon by himself in their shared room. When they had eventually walked back to their room, as they opened the door they were met with the sight of Simon, laying on the bed as he came down from an orgasm, sweating and breathing heavily, skin flushed a pretty pink and his own spend covering his hand, dread washing over his expression when he noticed the two of them—mainly Johnny—in the doorway.

Ever since then, Simon’s been forced to wear a cock ring, never allowed to take it off. And it’s made him a whiny bitch. Complaining every hour of every day. It was surprising when on the first day of Simon’s punishment, Johnny called both of them into his office, ordering Simon to sit in a chair and then taking Gary’s hand, guiding him to bend over the desk, right in front of the chair Johnny sits in, making him look into Simon’s eyes the entire time. He squealed when Johnny roughly tugged his pants down, listening as he grabbed a bottle of lube from a drawer, quickly slicking up two of his fingers and unceremoniously shoving them in his hole. Gary gasped, clutching the edge of the desk and started protesting, only calming when Johnny paused for a minute, rubbing a soothing hand over the small of Gary’s back and shushing him gently.

Gary watched as Simon tugs off his balaclava, eyes wide with arousal as Johnny continues pumping his fingers, quickly working his way up the three. Johnny beckoned Simon over to the other side of the desk, to stand behind Gary. Ordering him to drop his pants, and taking the pleasure of slicking up Simon’s cock for him, guiding it to Gary’s loose hole. Johnny positioned Simon behind Gary, in between his own legs where he remained seated and gripped his waist tightly with insanely large hands. Gary and Simon had moaned in tandem when Johnny had pushed Simon’s hips, sliding his cock into Gary slowly, still wearing his cock ring, then pulling it out again. Simon had tried jerking his hips, tried to set his own pace and take what he wanted, but all that had earned him was a harsh slap to his ass and another teasingly slow push of his hips.

It’s only when Gary whined and shifted in displeasure that Johnny picked up the pace, shushing him gently and forcing Simon to move faster. He gripped Simon’s waist harder and pushed and pulled him by his hips, making him fuck Gary proper. Simon had practically collapsed in pleasure, useless if not for Johnny controlling his movements. His forehead rests on the small of Gary’s back as he ran his hands up and down his flank, groaning with each rough thrust, panting the entire time. Gary was brought to the edge quicker than normal, clenching tightly around Simon’s cock as he came, grunting and moaning desperately as Johnny praised him in the background.

The hot feeling of Simon cumming inside him had never come, because Johnny had pulled him out before he could. Simon had protested, pathetic little noises and ‘nos’ falling from his lips as Johnny forcefully pulled his pants back up, fastening them and leaving Simon’s cock straining in his pants, spanking him once more when his hand had automatically moved down to palm at his erection. Johnny made Simon kneel, ignored him as tears started to fall, instead focusing on Gary, cleaning him up and pampering him, murmuring sweet nothings the whole time, telling him how good he had done.

Simon had practically thrown a fit that night. Had silently cried out of frustration, and forced Gary to hold him while the three of them slept, eventually having to be pulled off of him by Johnny and made to sleep on the floor with just a blanket as punishment when he couldn’t stop rutting against Gary’s hip in desperation.

Ought to get you a cage for when you get like this, fuckin’ mutt. Johnny had growled out when he crawled back into bed to wrap around Gary and kiss him sweetly before both of them drifted off to sleep with Simon’s low little whines in the background.

And that’s how it’s been for the past four days. Johnny approaching both of them, forcing them to fuck as he controls the pace, giving Gary his release and denying Simon of his as Simon’s punishment.

Today though, Simon’s been extra needy. Gary had been denying him all day because Johnny wasn’t there, he wasn’t going to be back until tomorrow. So the two had been left by themselves. It was maybe 10 when Gary was almost asleep and was jostled by Simon climbing onto the bed jerkily. Gary closed his eyes again, assuming Simon was just coming to bed, but opened them once more when Simon tugged down his pants and briefs. He turns around, hissing out Simon’s name.

“Stop that! Do you want to be punished further?”

Simon bats his hands away when he tries to pull his pants back up, mumbling something he can’t make out. He ruthlessly shoves two fingers in Gary’s ass, making sure he’s stretched, before pulling them out and replacing them with his length.

Gary whimpered as Simon bottomed out in one quick motion, cursing. Both of their collars jingle in unison, the tags shaking gently.

“Johnny said no…” He murmurs, too tired to push Simon off or fight him.

“Johnny isn’t fucking here.” Simon growls roughly, pulling out and tugging off his cock ring and sinking back into Gary, not going slow but immediately pounding into him, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. He growls and grunts the entire time like the dog he is, trying to quickly cum before Johnny gets home.

Suddenly, he’s ripped away from Gary and thrown to the ground from the bed with a sharp yip. Gary keens highly, raising himself a little to look over his shoulder, eyes widening when he finds Johnny standing over Simon, boot heavy on Simon’s cock and a snarl residing on his face.

“What did I tell you?” Johnny grits out, gripping Simon’s collar and pulling him closer by it. “I told you you didn’t get to cum. Right?”

Simon nods jerkily, whimpering lightly as Johnny pulls him closer, the collar tight around his neck.

“I’d tell you to use your words but mutts don’t speak.” Johnny pushes him to the ground again and walks over to the closet, where they keep the toy box. Simon looks at Gary with pleading eyes and Gary looks back at him with sympathy. Simon tries to stand and make his way to the bed, uncomfortable on the floor.

“Sit.” He crumples back onto the floor when Johnny’s voice rings out, not wanting to piss him off further. Johnny turns around, carrying a cock cage and something Gary didn’t recognize.

“Since the ring didn’t work,” Johnny kneels, grasping Simon’s cock and squeezing his balls, softening him up. “We’ll have to use this.”

He puts the cage on him, locking it up and reaching for the second object. A muzzle. Simon whines immediately when he sees it, pushing himself away from Johnny who simply rolls his eyes, grabbing Simon’s ankle and pulling him back.

“Relax.” He commands while fitting the muzzle onto him, locking it and making sure it’s not too tight. He stands up once more, walking back to the closet and grabbing a few blankets and a leash. He pulls the chair out from under the desk they keep in the room, and lays the blankets under the desk before walking back over to a confused Simon. Gary had to admit, he’s a little confused too, Johnny very rarely introduces a new toy this way, and he’s being meaner than usual. He clips the leash onto Simon’s collar, pulling him over to the desk. Simon goes to stand up and Johnny immediately stops him.

“Dogs don’t walk on two legs. Unless you’re trying to do a trick for me?” He looks Simon up and down until he lowers back down onto his hands and knees, crawling towards where Johnny directs him. “This’ll do until we get you a proper crate.” He mutters, tying Simon’s leash to a table leg and walking back over to Gary who watches him with wide eyes. He undresses, taking his underwear off too, and climbs into bed behind Gary, pulling the covers up over them.

Simon is quiet for once.

“Hi, bug.” Johnny purrs, wrapping his arms around Gary’s waist and pressing little kisses to his jaw. Gary whimpers, scared of what Johnny’ll do to him. Johnny replies as if he knows exactly what Gary is thinking.

“It’s alright bug,” Johnny shushes him softly, confusing Gary with the soft tone of his voice. “Simon’s just a needy little thing. It’s alright.”

Gary relaxes into the larger man, calmed by his words. He sighs happily, glad he’ll finally be able to get some rest. It’s unsurprising when Johnny slowly slides his cock into Gary from behind, cockwarming being a common thing between the three men. Johnny is much gentler than Simon was, and Gary is grateful for that. He grunts as he slides in, but is otherwise mostly silent as he slowly fucks Gary to sleep. He stops when light snores start to emit from the others mouth, knowing if he continued and came inside, Gary would most likely have a stomach ache in the morning.

“One week in the cage.” Johnny rasps out, knowing Simon is still awake.

A reedy whine tapers off as Johnny falls asleep, snug inside of Gary.

[screaming--lamb]

Run

Keegan P Russ x trans!male reader

Content warnings: Chasing, degradation, knife play, slight asphyxiation/choking, threats

Readers genitalia are referred to as: cunt, pussy, clit, dick, and t-dick

Word count: 1185

Snow crunches loudly behind you as you run through the dark woods, bright white on the ground offsetting the dark colour of the trees and the night sky.

You pant harshly, tired from running for the past hour or so. The feeling of being so close to freedom yet so close to the claws of the man chasing you is heady, making your heart race and your head fuzzy.

You slow down slightly next to a tree, trying to catch your breath so you can get further away.

A twig snaps several feet behind you, making you start running again even faster than before.

The sound was no accident, you know that for sure. Keegan stepped on that twig deliberately, to let you know he found you. He probably had you in his sights the entire time. From the moment he told you to run.

He's enjoying it. The chase, the scent of your fear, the look on your face.

As you run, you make the fatal mistake of looking behind you. As soon as you do so a large weight slams into you from the side, sending you tumbling to the snowy ground and yelping in pain.

You scramble to get up but the weight lands on your back, pushing you flat on your stomach. Keegan grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head back, placing one of his combat knives against your neck, the sharpened edge biting at your cold skin.

“Stay still. Or I'll slit your fucking throat.” Keegan's low voice growls out from behind you.

You gasp lightly, wanting to fight back but not wanting to risk his threat, even if you know his words are empty.

Keegan stays silent and still on top of you, his knee pressing painfully into your back as he waits for you to make a move.

“Good boy.” He murmurs darkly when you don't move an inch.

He lays the knife down in the snow, still within reach. Once he's sure you won't move, he slides off of you slightly, gripping the waist of your pants.

You kick at him blindly and he curses in pain. Standing quickly, you try and dart out of the small clearing he had captured you in but he's too quick for you. He slams into you once more, pushing you up against a tree. You cry out in pain at the impact and your cry quickly turns into a terrified scream when his knife buries itself in the tree bark, having just barely scraped your cheek in the process.

“Brat!” Keegan snarls, mouth pressed right up to your ear. He moves his mouth down to your neck, scraping his teeth against the tender flesh threateningly. “Stupid fuckin’ kid. Don't know when to quit, do you?”

You whimper fearfully, breathing heavily as he presses you into the tree harshly. The bark dogs into your skin as he unbuttons your pants forcefully. His hand delves into your boxers, running two fingers over your slick soaked cunt. You gasp harshly as his fingers find your t-dick and rub over it, pinching it softly before soothing it once more with his fingers.

“Kee—Keegan.” You moan, bucking against his hand. His slender fingers suddenly plunge into your pussy, pumping deep, deeper than you could ever reach.

He laughs lowly, continuing to jackhammer his fingers inside of you, reveling in the way it forces short little noises out of your throat.

“Such a pretty cunt on a pretty boy.” Keegan purrs, pulling his fingers out of your heat before turning you around and pushing you onto your knees, he places his wet hand against your forehead and presses your head back against the tree, holding you in place.

With his other hand, he unbuttons his own pants, pulling them down just enough to take out his cock. He strikes himself a few times before forcing your mouth open and forcing his cock in your mouth.

Keegan groans lowly, thrusting shallowly into your mouth. His pace quickens, thrusting fast and hard into your mouth. His hand moves from your forehead down to your nose. He pinches your nose, cutting off your air quickly.

You bring your hands up to grip at his thighs, thrashing and pounding your palms against his thighs. He squeezes your nose harder before letting go.

You inhale deeply between his thrusts, trying to catch your breath again. Your hips cant up into nothing, cold air biting against your clit.

Pulling out of your mouth with a guttural growl, Keegan takes the knife he had stuck in the tree, kneeling to be face to face with you on the ground. He grips the knife tightly, ensuring your legs are spread and pressing the tip against your swollen clit.

You squeal, grappling for him and trying to pull away from the knife but he grabs your hands tightly, making sure you stay in place. He bares his teeth threateningly, pressing the knife harder into your sensitive skin for a moment.

“Naughty boy…you don't get off unless I say, got it?” He snaps. You nod your head vehemently, tears welling up in your eyes at the pressure of the knife.

“Who's pussy is this?” Keegan demands, tapping the knife against your cunt. He huffs when you don't reply. “I know you're not dumb. It's my pussy. Say it.”

You cry out in relief when he pulls the knife away, gripping it by the blade instead of the hilt.

“Yours.” You whimper, “'s your pussy…”

He grins animalistically, “That's right, sweet thing. My pussy. Which means you don't cum unless I say so.”

You nod quickly, not risking angering him by not agreeing. He lowers the knife once more, skating past your dick, he presses the hilt into your hole slowly. You groan, jerking slightly before settling once more, tears rolling down your cheeks at the intrusion.

“Keegan!”

He shushes you gently, a stark contrast from just a few moments ago. He pushes you down, making sure you stay seated in the cold snow, upright against the tree.

The hilt of the knife thrusts in and out, different angles each time until eventually he finds the spot that makes you scream. He continues pressing into that spot, bringing his other hand down to rub at your dick until you come, going limp against the tree.

Keegan removes the knife from your pussy, the hilt soaked. He takes his cock in his hand, stroking himself hastily until he comes on your bare cunt with a deep growl.

---

“Did I go too far?” Keegan murmurs gently as you both lay in bed, having just gotten out of a long bath. He runs his fingers in an unknown pattern over your shoulder.

“It w’s perfect, Keegs.” You mumble back, exhausted from what had happened outside. He chuckles and kisses your shoulder, then your neck, then your cheek. You laugh lightly at the peppered kisses over your skin until eventually the two of you fall asleep in each others arms.

[screaming--lamb]

[screaming--lamb]

my gender is whatever those sluts from ghost got going on

[screaming--lamb]

[screaming--lamb]

I can't believe I haven't drawn them in these outfits before

[screaming--lamb]

Ignorance

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cis male reader

Content warnings: Asphyxiation, degrading words, (slight) face slapping

Word Count: 1838

Nothing bothered you much, being yelled at, being stared at, it never really fazed you. But being ignored. That pissed you off. You've always been the center of attention, ever since you were a little boy.

And Simon knew the best times to piss you off.

Despite your pride, you had been vying for his attention all day

You know how they say; you don't know what you're missing until it's *gone*?

You had done anything you could think of, talking to him; rambling about the stupidest things you could think of, cracking jokes. Once, you had bent over, showing off your figure in front of him, and he had just…left. Retreated into his office without even a blink in your direction.

It's been hours since he did that. And you were stewing, growing angrier by the minute. When all your duties are done for the day, you storm your way over to Simon’s office, not even bothering to knock before you shove open the door and slam it shut behind you, locking it.

He doesn't move a muscle.

You tap your foot in irritation. As you stare at him, he ignores you in favor of his paperwork.

You stalk closer to him, slamming a hand down on top of his paperwork. He scoffs and pries your hand off his desk easily, waving you away with a flick of his hand.

You see red.

“Simon.” You try to say patiently, wanting an explanation for why he's been ignoring you.

He hums dismissively in return.

“Simon.”

He shushes you. As if you were a little lapdog being too noisy.

You watch him in disbelief before bringing a hand up and shoving his shoulder in annoyance.

He grips your wrist, twisting it and staring up at you blankly. His burning grip causes you to cry out in pain, leaning against his desk and yelling at him to let go.

He finally lets go and you clutch your sore wrist, rubbing it and trying to get feeling back in it.

“I know you're needy, sweetheart, but you need to learn to be patient.”

His deep voice drawls as he looks away from you once more.

“What did you just say?” You ask blankly, insulted at his patronizing words.

“You're not deaf, Y/N. You know what I said.”

He continues writing his reports, sighing heavily at your presence.

You scoff, stepping closer to him and scruffing the back of his neck, as if you would a kitten.

You pull his head up, intent on saying something stupid again. You don't get the chance, he's already up and out of his seat, pushing you down onto your knees below him.

“Start thinking before you act, Y/N. Maybe then we wouldn't be here, hmm?” He says cockily, running a hand through your military regulation hair and gripping it, pulling your head back to look straight up at him.

“We're here because of you.” You hiss, grunting from the pain in your scalp.

He hums in a way that says you need to rethink that, a degrading thing, acting as if you were no smarter than a measly dog.

“Because of me?” Simon repeats with a sharp bark of a laugh, “Why, pray tell, would we be here because of me?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he knows why you're so mad. He just wants you to say it.

“You know I don't like being ignored.” You mutter sharply, looking at him disdainfully.

He chuffs, amused with you. Suddenly a loud crack rings out, and your head is twisted to the side, a searing pain in your cheek as you gasp.

Your eyes roll back in your head at the rough treatment, and you try to pull out of his grip. But he's holding your hair so tight, it aches to move even an inch.

You swallow, groaning at the red hot pain in your cheek. As you turn your head back towards Simon, he brings his hand down to caress your cheek before pressing hard into the mark, making it sting further.

He's taken his mask off now, staring down at you with a smirk playing on his lips. He pulls his hands away, no longer touching you, leaning back in his chair. He crosses his arms, showing off his broad figure and spreading his legs in his chair.

The pinnacle of unbothered relaxation.

His cock jumps in his sweats, quickly chubbing up directly in front of your face, teasing you.

You reach up, going for the waistband of his pants and just barely getting a grip before he's prying your hands off. He pushes you back, raising a foot and placing his heavy boot right on your dick. You cry out, grabbing at his ankle trying to relieve the pressure, the mixed pleasure and pain.

“You should know your place by now, baby.”

“My—fuck—my place?” You pant out, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

“Yeah,” He nods calmly, a cruel smile making itself known on his face. “Your place is under me. You ought to remember that by now. Or do we need another lesson?”

Lessons.

Just another word for punishment according to him, and Simon is ruthless with his punishments. Your last lesson had been nearly two weeks ago, yet you could still feel phantom pains from where he had forced you to kneel, arms outstretched with dictionary's in each hand, not allowed to put them down unless he said.

You instinctively go to rub at your shoulders at the memory, inhaling sharply.

“If you need to give me another lesson so soon, I think your lessons just aren't working.” You snark, rolling your eyes and leaning back on your hands, looking unbothered.

Simon chuckles, shaking his head. “Needy little brat,” He says in a fond tone, leaning forward until his face is mere inches from yours. “Always looking for trouble. Did daddy never punish his little boy when he was younger?”

You scowl at his patronizing words, leaning forward and bringing your faces closer together. Instead of retorting, you stand up. As you stand, you look down at him in his chair, not bothering to say anything. You start to walk away, intent on ignoring him again.

He pushes himself out of the chair, bringing an ankle around yours and catching you as you stumble. He turns you, pressing you into the desk so your face is smushed against it.

You grunt as you're pushed up against the desk, his bulge rubbing against the swell of your ass. He groans deliciously, pressing one hand on the small of your back and pulling you up by your hair with the other one, forcing you to arch your back prettily.

The air is still, silent. For the longest time nothing happens, he keeps you suspended in that position for a few minutes, neither of you moving.

Unknowingly, your hips start making little aborted movements, almost as if it's instinct. You rock your hips, pressing back onto his clothed cock, and then pressing forward, rubbing your erection against the edge of the desk, repeating this motion slowly.

A moan escapes your lips when Simon jerks you away from the desk, pressing you against his body and holding you tight. Enforcing that you can't move an inch.

“I just fucked you a week ago, and you're acting like this? Did I not fuck you hard enough or are you just greedy?”

You whimper as one of his hands slides to your neck, deft fingers wrapping around your neck and squeezing.

“You look so good with my hands around your neck,” Simon sighs in pleasure, starting to rock his hips into yours. “C’mon, talk to me. You're greedy, aren't you?”

You shake your head against his hold, making him bark out a laugh. Your hands come up to grab at his, trying to pry him off of you when he starts to squeeze harder.

Your vision blurs as you go cross eyed, black spots slowly appearing at the edges of your vision. Gasping, your air cuts off as he continues putting pressure on your throat.

“You know what I want to hear Y/N.” Simon growls, his lips pressing against your ear.

You shake your head once more, your dick twitching in your pants as you kick one of your legs, body instinctively fighting.

He continues to mutter in your ear, making the pleasurable pressure in your gut build up.

“Do I look like I'm messing around?” He grits out, jerking you backwards by your neck, making you choke harder. “Do I look like I won't punish you?”

The pressure gets to be too much, your head pounding angrily and your face flushing. You nod desperately, mouthing words you can't speak.

He lets go and you keel over, curling against the top of the desk, gasping in ragged breaths.

“’m greedy.” You whisper raspily, sounded like you had gargled gravel.

“What was that?” Simon asks with faux sweetness, leaning in closer and tilting his head so his ear is closer to you.

Asshole.

“You're right,” You spit out angrily, “I'm greedy."

He hums, leaning back once you finish speaking. He grabs you once more, although softer than he had before. Simon sits back down in his chair and pulls you down with him, placing you in his lap so that you're straddling one of his thighs.

“There you go,” He coos softly, caressing your cheek softly. “At least you know what you are, baby.”

You whimper softly, little puffs of breath escaping your mouth. Your hips start moving once more, rolling down onto his thigh.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Simon murmurs, moving his hand from your cheek to your hair, carding through it. His demeanor has changed significantly from earlier.

“Fuck—” You groan, grinding against his firm thigh, “Fuck me.”

Simon barks out a laugh, looking at you with a predatory look in his eye. He bounces his leg once, making you gasp at the new motion.

“Fucking is a reward, and you haven't been good.” He purrs, continuing to pet your hair and bounce his leg intermittently.

“I have!” You insist, moving your hips faster.

Simon tilts his head back, looking down his nose at you. You're unable to tear your eyes away from his, caught in the hazy storm of his gaze.

“No. It's my thigh or nothing.”

The way he says it is so effortless. Sounding as if he's unaffected and bored, as if he's inconvenienced by you.

You groan, the sound tapering off into a slight whine, but you don't protest. You already know it'll prove fruitless.

You continue grinding against his thigh desperately, gasping every time he bounces his leg. Your cock twitches and the pull in your gut gets stronger, you rock your hips a few more times before coming as you whine breathlessly.

You collapse against Simon’s chests, panting softly. He strokes your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your back softly before speaking.

“My turn.”