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captainswhore · 10 hours
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I just read your latest drabble and I NEED to know who you’re cheering for in the playoffs 🫶
i always joke with people that i'm a pittsburgh hater first, and a boston fan second ☠️ so the bruins!!!
however- i can feel it in my bones that if we make it through the first round there's no way we're making it past the second with the way that the panthers are playing this year :/
also- the canes have been KILLING IT
so long story short the bruins but honestly i have too many fave teams in the playoffs to really have too big of a sway lmao
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captainswhore · 12 hours
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“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you
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captainswhore · 16 hours
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Price is annoyed they never knock on the goddamn door anymore
ghost and soap walk in like they own the place. like he's not the fucking captain.
He grumbles under his breath, pushing more weight behind every one of his thrusts as he continues to pound you over the desk, trying to fuck his irritation out into you.
"The fuck d'you want?"
Ghost already has his dick out, rubbing. His greedy eyes on you, "Gaz says the bitch is wet."
fucking blabber mouth. "Well i'm using it."
Soap ignores him and lowers himself in a squat to you, getting in your face with that fucked out gaze of yours "was this morning not enough for you lovlie?"
a pitiful whimper in response, "of course it wasn't huh?" Soap coos, "you're always so insatisiable baby. don't worry, johnny will make it all better" Soap lines his dick up with your open mouth. Your tongue darts out, desperate in your haze.
Price growls from behind you, "I said I'm using it." he grunts, surrounding you, keeping you away from Soap, like the selfish man he is. The captain sends Soap a threating glare and a growl in warning
"but look how desperate she is cap, she can use one more"
"She's only getting mine." he pushes you over onto your back, rolling with you and caging you in between him and the desk. your only repsonse are the shudders of pleasure that resonate through you
"eyes on me, slut. when my cock is deep in you you're only going to be thinking about me. i'm the one thats fucking you right. i'm the one that makes you cum. im the one that keeps making you stupid on my cock...youre gonna cum for your captain
your hole begins to clench around him, the rolls of estacy drowning you in pleasure and he spills his seed in you, hand on your throat, possessing you, ruining you
After a few moments of heavy breathing, Price gets off of you, tucking himself back in while you remain a mess on top of his desk
"don't forget you are always getting my sloppy seconds," He snarls
Price goes to find somewhere else to be, slamming the door to his office
guysidkwhathappenedtherothastakenhold
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captainswhore · 18 hours
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Soap: Who filled out this file? My name is MACtavish! Not McTavish! MAC
Roach: Your name is Mac?
Soap: No-
Roach: Mac McTavish? Were you named off a McDonald’s menu?
Soap: NO-
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captainswhore · 19 hours
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Catch me on Ao3 promoting unsafe sex, huge age gaps, adultery, and blasphemy.
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captainswhore · 19 hours
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ik you described android!ghost's cock to be like a human one but him having a cock like this one...... 🤤💦💦💦💦
https://twitter.com/robots_and_lace/status/1246647460161781760?s=21
Oh my...
Ghost has basically a human "suit" that he wears because it makes him feel more comfortable, but mechanically speaking it's really just a synthetic cover to hide his electronics. He has seams and plates that aren't covered by it, and he's a big boy. A behemoth of an android. Usually they're more lithe, more spartan in their construction and programming. They're specialized machines. Ghost is... an anomaly. He's big and armored and the synthetic skin doesn't hide what he is, because he makes no move to hide the smooth, cold, screen of his helmet-like face. He doesn't hide that he's not a man any more.
That doesn't mean that once you install his new hardware he doesn't have a man's urges. His thick, unyielding, fingers rub over your dripping cunt, synthetic come aiding in the slick slide of the digits. The warmth of his skin does little to hide the hard metal beneath it, but it doesn't stop Ghost from letting out a hiss when you clench around them. His cock drips against your chest as he pushes come back into your cunt. Poor pretty thing, you have to learn to keep it all in or he'll plug you. Tape your pretty pussy closed so you can feel the weight of the come he's pumped you full of all day.
Your fingers leave prints over his face plate, the gentle oil of your skin and sweat smearing over the dark glass. You do your best to stroke his cock, careful of the exposed metal, the smooth retractable plates, as you move your fingers over him. He likes this new model, likes the way it drags at your cunt, rubbing you at every angle and making you sob out your pleasure. He can almost feel your puffy cunt reshaping itself to take him, can feel the silhouette of himself as he fingers you. Yeah, he likes this model. Not as human, but not skimping on what he really wants either. Anything to drive you into the cock drunk stupor he currently finds you in.
"I can't come again," You whine, try to push at his hands. As if you could ever have the strength needed to move him. Especially not when he can tough you like this.
"You can," He assures you, "you're going to."
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captainswhore · 19 hours
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the gym
gaz/plus size fem reader: a new trainer shadows your workout class. 1.2k words, no skin/hair description for reader. CW: reference to internalized fatphobia and trauma from fatphobia. this isn’t proofread “._. enjoy!
every time you show up to the gym for your fitness class, you regret it. your goal in this class wasn’t to lose weight—after years of crying in dressing rooms and worrying about food, you’d finally figured out how to appreciate your body for what it was. most of the time.
no, you weren’t here to lose weight, but instead to work on your joint and muscle health. you had learned that every woman should be lifting weights consistently to help ward off arthritis and that working these joins might relieve some of your pain in your knees and back, and so you signed up for the class. the gym was local, the membership was reasonable, and you had just enough time on the weekends to fit in a one hour class. you always ended those classes with a satisfying soreness and a feeling that you would sleep well that night.
the actual exercise wasn’t the part you hated. the worst part was being in a class. though no one was cruel to you or even commented on your appearance, it brought you back in your mind to the horrible days of elementary school gym classes. dreading the changing room, sniffling and gasping as you finished running the mile, ducking your head in shame to hide the snickers of other classmates. even if no one spoke to you badly now, you still felt imaginary eyes on you. the instructor’s kindhearted praises and suggestions of adapted workouts to fit your body felt condescending and pointed. when you made eye contact with a classmate you couldn’t help but imagine their scorn and what they might be thinking of your body as you pant and sweat.
you wonder for the millionth time whether the shame is worth the payoff as you lock your belongings away in the changing room, and for the millionth time you square your shoulders and head to the room in the back of the gym. familiar faces fill the room, some glancing your way and others giving you a smile or a wave. the only face you don’t recognize is one that makes your mouth go dry—the young man talking to the instructor was stunning. you’d never thought of a man as pretty before, but staring at him now, there was no other way to describe him. the planes of his face were strong and smooth, but his eyes and smile had a boyish quality, relaxed and friendly in a way that only accentuated his beauty. the tight coils of his hair were cropped close to his head and his jaw was spattered with dark facial hair. when he turned his lovely brown eyes on you that dazzling smile almost made you turn and rush from the room.
the instructor introduces the man as kyle, a trainer, ironically, in training. he would be observing today to learn how the gym went about its workout classes. you feel like you could faint. a man like that watching you work out was practically a nightmare, and it takes all your strength to swallow your pride and do your warm ups. the stations today make you wince, not because they’re particularly difficult, but because they involve a lot of jumping. jumping jacks, jumping squats, and the dreaded jump rope. the idea of having your soft body, your boobs and thighs and arms and stomach all bouncing and jiggling in front of kyle is nearly nauseating, but goddamnit, you’re paying $30 a week to be here. you’re going to power through it.
to your surprise, it’s kyle who moves quietly to your side when you get to the sit up station. he squats down in front of you, reaching for you shoes. for a moment you’re mortified, thinking he’s singling you out to try and help with the sit ups, but he lifts his head to look at you with that disarming smile.
“shoes are untied, love,” he tells you with a twinkle in his eyes, and that makes you feel hotter than the workout.
“oh, uh,” you stutter a little as he ties your laces for you. “thanks.”
“no problem,” he pats your knee good-naturedly as he stands, shuffling off. you can't help but sneak a look at him when the set is over only to find him already looking at you with that same grin that makes you feel all fluttery inside. kyle keeps an eye on you throughout the whole workout, but unlike the other instructor, it doesn't feel condescending. he doesn't make a big deal out of showing you modified workouts or praising you for doing what everyone else is doing. he just gives you sweet smiles and the occasional thumbs up. hou wonder if its your imagination when you feel his eyes on you at the jumping jacks station, watching your body bounce and jiggle with every movement. for some reason, these eyes don't feel judgmental--quite the opposite in fact. the way Kyle looks at your body feels appreciative, admiring even.
you use these little fantasies to motivate you in your workout, jumping with more confidence and pushing yourself a little harder than normal in the cardio. unfortunately, your regular instructor also notices and comes over during the cool down to praise you in that way that makes you feel singled out and talked down to. it ruins your good mood a little as you give him a forced smile and thank him for his help before slipping away to the back to gulp down some water.
"didn't look too comfortable there," a smooth voice says behind you. kyle has one hand on his hip and one hand holding out a towel for you to wipe your face.
"hm? oh, thanks," you take the cloth gingerly from his hand. "i'm fine, really, just tired."
"i'm sure," kyle agrees. "that was impressive, could see you were pushing yourself. that's not what i meant, though." you give him a quizzical look.
"the other instructor singles you out," he explains with a sudden gentleness. "it makes you uncomfortable."
"oh, no," you protest, though it sounds like a lie even to you. kyle gives you a look. "well, maybe a little, but... he means well."
kyle nods thoughtfully. he glances back at the other people filing out of the room, contemplating something, before turning back to you.
"come get a smoothie with me, love, and lets see if we can lift that mood," he suggests.
"you don't have to do that," you insist, growing a little shy.
"nah, but i want to," kyle flashes you that stupidly beautiful smile again. "let me take you out, raise your spirits. can't exactly leave a pretty girl feeling blue, can i?"
take you out? he can't mean on a date, can he? someone as attractive as him wanting to go out with you while you're covered in sweat and probably smell?
"i mean, if you're sure," you concede. kyle's megawatt smile increases to solar levels of blinding and it makes your heart soar. he takes your arm and leads you out of the training room with all the cheer of a man who's won a free vacation.
"definitely sure," he assures you. "m'hoping you'll give me your number if i buy you a smoothie."
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captainswhore · 21 hours
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when i see someone reblog something of mine with the most depraved, graphic tags describing their feelings? i feel very proud. thank you, internet stranger and/or friend.
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captainswhore · 21 hours
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✨just fandom things✨
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captainswhore · 21 hours
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OH. MY GOD. so in our little “price’s girl shared with the 141” au…
you become their own personal OF star. no official page no no. but a group chat SPECIFICALLY to send videos of price utterly ruining you (it eventually becomes any and all videos and pictures of any of them together, with or without you. safe in a seperate chat)
sharing is caring ; poly 141
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OH JESUS i just about melted to the floor. this got away from me LMAO this is more centered on the first time you send pics to the group chat, so it’s the start of the whole dynamic. i really hope you enjoy!! i love talking about this au with you (talking to you in general ofc) <33
18+, afab reader, price x reader -> price sharing his girl with the 141, nudes, sharing of nudes (w readers consent, she's the one sharing them), purposefully lowercase.
i think maybe it starts out gradually. after all, you’re only used to sending risky pictures to your husband, john price.
you're dipping your toes in the water.
throughout your relationship and marriage, you would send him a variety of pictures to help boost his morale while on deployment and give him a taste of what was waiting for him at home.
sometimes it was a shot of your tits. sometimes they were held up by your lace bra and giving him a tease of the valley of your breasts. a lace bra he picked out, one he would have to restrain himself from ripping off of you. sometimes you would be covering your tits with one arm across your chest while your other hand was holding your phone, snapping the selfie. then of course, sometimes you would just be cupping your tits and letting the timed camera count down - capturing a perfectly uncovered view of your tits for your hardworking husband.
other times you would send him shots of your ass. all bare and plush and all his to squeeze and spank and bite. you would always be on your large bed, with your back arched and your ass in the air, letting the timed camera count down. presenting yourself to him just like you would if he was there with you right now, pressing his cock against your ass and letting you feel how hard he was. sometimes you would be sporting a pair of lingerie, just a thin stripe of fabric that left nothing to the imagination. whenever you wore them, it was almost with the intention to tease him - like you knew how much he would be itching to just tear that flimsy piece of fabric right off you.
sometimes you would send him pictures of your cunt all wet and on display for him. you'd be all bare and on display for him, your legs spread open all for him. he would be able to see the plush skin of your inner thighs, littered with stretch marks (that he yearned to taste again). he would be able to see your folds all swollen and dripping with slick as you presented yourself to your husband. whenever you sent him those pictures (or any picture of yourself, really), he could feel himself practically salivating. he would kill to be able to reach through the screen and swipe his thick fingers through your lips, gathering your juices on his fingers. he would kill to just devour you right then and there.
of course, sometimes you would send him one with everything. one where you would be laying in bed, all bare for him, and you would be holding your phone above you to get an aerial selfie. perfectly showing your tits and sensitive nipples, your stomach and your plush thighs. because you wanted to be thorough, you would always take the time to get a shot specifically for your cunt. you couldn't let him go wanting, not when he was providing for you like that.
all of those applied to videos, of course. you would always throw in some line that went straight to his cock (in addition to the visuals you provided), like, "fuck, i miss you so much," or, "god, i need you so bad. my big bear."
of course, as he began integrating his men with his personal life, you began growing closer to them as well. you would exchange glances and fleeting touches that lingered way too long, full of heat and tension. they were all simultaneously filled with guilt and anxiety. you were married. they were working under your husband's orders.
you felt like shit. like a two-timer, even though nothing had happened physically. at least, not really. you felt terrible. that was, until john had murmured something in your ear one night that flooded your core with heat.
"mmm. they've been lookin' at you like that too, y'know? they'd kill to get a taste of that pretty pussy." you practically shiver at both his words, the husky timbre of his voice and the scratch of his beard against your ear. "i would know. they've all begged me for a taste of her." you could imagine your eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
from that point on, your confidence was ping-ponging between outgoing or introverted. you constantly wondered if it was a good idea to pursue this.. new path. would it over complicate your husbands work life? the relationship's he had with his friends? or worse, your own marriage?
and when you weren't mulling yourself to death with the possibilities of what could go wrong, you were preoccupied with the possibilities of what could go right. toe curlingly right.
you could have the best of both worlds. you could have your husband all the time, both physically and emotionally - while also enjoying his men and their bodies. you could enjoy soap's, johnny's, nimble and thick fingers pumping in and out of you as he finger fucked you to the first orgasm of many. you could enjoy gaz's, kyle's, sweet mouth as he worshipped your breasts (breasts that you noticed he would stare at every chance he could) for all they were worth. licking, sucking and kissing at your sensitive nipples like he was a man starved. you could enjoy ghosts', simon's, cock, if john let him stuff you full of his length. by the buldge in his pants, you'd hoped to god that he would.
your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you added john's familiar number in a new text, before you read off three other numbers from a piece of paper your husband had left you. you knew who they belonged to, and just the thought made your core fill with heat. once you had formed a groupchat, you clicked on your gallery and selected two pictures you had taken only a minute prior.
both pictures were ones you would usually ever send to your husband. one of your tits, in a bra just to test your confidence. the other of your ass as you arched your back and let your ass perk up in the air. you opted to wear some lingerie in this one as well, again, to test your confidence. you didn't wanna bite off more than you could chew and scare yourself off. that would embarrass you beyond repair, and no matter how much your husband tried to convince you - you were sure it would embarrass him too. it wouldn't.
so you were playing relatively safe. not explicitly showing nipples or completely uncovered breasts, or revealing anything except for a bikini line.
you typed out a quick text along with the photos. you had to admit, you would feel a bit awkward (even more so) if you just sent random almost nudes to someone that wasn't your husband without even so much as an accompanying text. you started off with the typical 'it's so-and-so,' so they could save your number into their phones.
hi, boys. felt like you might need a pick me up.
your thumb hovered over the blue 'send' button before letting out an exhale, and pressing send.
only a few minutes passed before your phone was blowing up from all four men. a lot of texts from all of them, some in all caps, some filled with misspellings, some with emojis.
in a few painstakingly long minutes, they had left about five voicemails each. even more missed calls and voice messages.
the general consensus was: be ready when we get home.
©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
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captainswhore · 22 hours
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gaz is definitely the type of guy who makes out with your tits. like the man gets so caught up in the moment, tongue laving at your nipple and his other hand pinching and pulling the other. he usually leaves them slick with saliva— and to the point where they’re as hard as a pebble, as well as tender and swollen. ( bonus if you're lactating 🤭, he has an obsession. )
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captainswhore · 2 days
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kyle "emotional supportive best friend who emotionally supports you by making you cry on his cock because he can't have you crying over an argument you just had with your boyfriend" garrick
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captainswhore · 2 days
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older bf simon the type to ask, “how do you want me, love?” when you two finally fuck :’(
he’s so careful and gentle, leashing his own desires because there is a certain satisfaction in having you tip into your orgasm first before he reaches his own. it’s so dizzying, having you order him around and him giving you what you asked but twice the intensity, twice the pleasure. he has you crying in his arms, your words warbled with your gasps, and he holds you throughout because—“like this, sweetheart? is this what you wanted?”
you sob your yesses and your i love yous and your i need mores, and simon gives and gives because god you’re just too precious
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captainswhore · 3 days
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i'm thinking of john price and reader, childhood best friends. you're close with him basically from second grade. inseparable, even when he went to the military and the daily talks weren't possible. you wrote letters to him nonetheless, describing what exactly happened, so he wouldn't miss a thing. he's too important for you to lose, and he thinks the same way about you to.
maybe that's why you two made a promise to each other that if you two are gonna be single till 40, you two will marry. after all, what is so wrong in marrying your best friend? nothing, and if it means sticking with each other to the end, then so be it. he was gonna be here anyway, till the end.
you even made a small paper, like it was some sort of agreement or something like that.
with years, you think it's some sort of joke because even if you have boyfriends, no one really sticks and sooner or later, they leave. john, on the other hand, has no one - says he's too busy with the military and flings are better, so you don't pay mind to that too much.
and you probably should. almost all of your “boyfriends” left you because he was, and still will be the problem. he’s too close, acting way too friendly, scaring your boyfriends off or simply threatening them - and, getting the job done. your latest ex-boyfriend knows something about it, considering that he landed in the hospital with several broken bones:/ 
it’s your blind faith in john that is a problem too; you simply can’t believe that a man, so gentle and so friendly could harm anyone. after all, all he wants is you to be happy, right?? that’s why you haven’t caught up in his lies.
“they’re simply not worthy,” he muses, kissing the top of your head. “men these days… disappointing, aren’t they?” 
“you could introduce me to someone.” you roll your eyes with a smile, when he shakes his head. “haven’t you told me that military men are the best?”
“i did,” he starts, leaning against the frame, “but that’s only me. others are… filthy. possessive, obsessive, acting like they possess you whenever they have eyes on you.”
“and you?” you raise your eyebrow.
“i am your best friend. that’s something entirely different, love.”
and the conversation ends on that; you remember them when he puts an engagement ring on your finger, on the day of his 40th birthday.
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captainswhore · 4 days
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wait wait because imagine being a normal OF creator or a cam girl, just a small name nobody who does it for the sole purpose of getting through college. you keep your face out of everything, nothing in the background of any video of yours is personal, like once you get your degree this entire account is getting deleted and it'll be a thing of the past. (not that you're ashamed or anything. we respect sex workers of all kinds here)
and you plan on doing a different kind of video: one of you fucking yourself with a new, much bigger toy. usually you keep to the rabbits and bullets but following your friends advice, you fucking yourself on a dildo wouldn't be terrible.
plus you need it, sweetheart. when was the last time you even had a date?
bitch. (affectionately)
and as soon as you walk into your usual sex store, you double take. there is no, NO, way that is pornstar!ghost's dick you've just spotted as a dildo.
he's been your favorite pornstar long before you even started this side hustle. who in their right mind can resist that beast of a man with the mask and the tattoos and the heaving thing that's between his legs--
you take it home immediately.
it's almost sad how stupid you fuck yourself on it, cunt split open and dripping onto the floorboard for the internet to see but in that moment, you don't give a fuck.
you don't remember how many times you come that night nor how many viewers you had watching your puffy lips swallow "ghost's" cock whole, but come morning, you notice your bank account and it is padded.
PADDED.
one particular tipper was incredibly generous and they even left a message.
i'd love to see you do that on the real thing.
yeah, me too.
(whoever that is becomes a loyal follower who tips regularly.)
*screaming at the thought of simon getting himself off at your video. hasn't come that hard in months and that says a lot since he's yknow, a pornstar.*
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captainswhore · 4 days
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You think Ghost wakes up some nights and starts clawing at the bedsheets around Soap in panic because he thinks they’re buried together? You think he ever put his fingers in his mouth to rip out his own jaw while in a state of mania? That Soap has to pry his fingers from his face and assure them they’re safe in their room?
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captainswhore · 4 days
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I‘m a huge fan of the there’s only one bed trope but let me change it up a bit. The 141 are on deployment and the reader loses her sleeping bag and tent in a firefight. So now she has to share with Simon. Somehow Simon’s fingers end up between her legs👀
Ghost, in all his gritty fuck-nastiness, saw you losing your things as the perfect opportunity to claim what's his.
You don't even get to ask before he tells you you're with him.
Good thing, too, 'cause it's a little chilly at night, so when you finally settle down for the night, you're... mighty close to Ghost. Close enough to feel his heat, yeah, but you ain't touching.
Not yet. Until you finally do and he says, "Fuck it."
And now he has his fingers knuckle deep inside you.
"Gotta keep 'em warm," Ghost says gruffly as he pumps 'em in and out. FuckfuckfuckyouwannamoanohfuckGhost—
"Keep it in. Can't attract attention." Not a suggestion, an order, and you're left whimpering and trying your damndest not to get too loud as he finger bangs the fuck out of you.
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