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lothcatthree · 5 months
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these make sense. To Me.
part 2
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ventresses · 6 months
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Star Wars: The Clone Wars (6/?) - Blue & Green
Star Wars + Text Posts & Headlines
Note from OP:
In looking back, I have mixed feelings about that last Mace Windu one, because while it's somewhat relevant to his character in the sense that he IS extremely powerful fighter, I also feel like it also veers too much into the "Angry Black Person" stereotype/trope, &/or that it is pulling too much from other memorable characters of Samuel L. Jackson's, not from the personality of Mace Windu himself.
I'm on the fence whether I should remove it from the post or just leave it there, so I'm just going to leave these remarks, and also drop the link to a really good post I saw a few days ago, discussing Mace Windu’s character in the fandom, I highly recommend checking it out:
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mostlyfate · 7 months
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The shirt is too big. Wait. Just a moment.
DESTINED WITH YOU 연애는 불가항력 (2023)
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ohbo-ohno · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 17 - Orgy
Soap x Gaz x Ghost x Price x Rudy x Alejandro x Reader - 5.3k (on ao3)
summary: You have an orgy with your favorite boys. (Reader POV)
cw: double penetration in two holes, double penetration in one hole, spitroasting, sex in front of other people, very light soft degradation, praise, overstimulation
note: this doesn't even have an ATTEMPT at plot alright? we're here to be horny and move on. also i think this is more gangbang than orgy but whatever lol
You’re not sure who you’re making out with. It’s not like you care all that much - laid out on the bed like a queen, Price serving as your throne where he holds you half up with your legs spread - you’re perfectly content to just sit and kiss, for hours on end.
It was Soap first - Soap and his messy kisses, broad stripes licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue so vehemently you nearly thought he was trying to keep it. He was playful, nipping at your lips, grinning everytime he pulled back enough for you to see.
Then Gaz, who shoved Soap away to have a turn with you. They’d bickered for a moment before Price, from over your shoulder, big hands cupping your chest and massaging, reminded him that he could lick your pussy too. He was more than happy to duck down after that, leaving you with Gaz. 
Gaz was sweet, long slow kisses that matched the way Price groped you but were a sharp contrast to the eagerness Soap had. Kyle peppered your mouth with kisses, layering them one over the other and hardly giving you time to breathe between them, while Soap ate you with a fervor you’ve never felt before. The difference in pace left you squirming, just a bit, but Price kept you still for them.
You’re not sure when Gaz left, but Soap’s work on your cunt felt so good, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t open your eyes even to see who next took a turn.
He’s got scruff on his face, which you feel rubbing against your cheeks and your palms when you reach up to hold him. His kisses are fun - you can feel him smiling and humming into your lips - and he works your mouth slowly, tangling your tongue together. Where Soap and Gaz had wanted to explore, your mystery man wants to play.
You want to look and see who it is, but the pleasure doesn’t let you, Soap’s mouth on your clit, two of his fingers buried deep in your ass, Price giving you sharp little pinches around your areolas - it all keeps you just a little too foggy to work up the energy. You’re content to luxuriate in the sensations, to relax back into Price and just let your body feel.
“There you go, doll,” Price coos from over your shoulder. “Nice and relaxed for us, yeah? Gonna need you to stay like that if you want to take us all.”
“Please,” you breathe between kisses, eyelashes fluttering as you finally manage to look up. “Wanna feel you all.”
It’s Rudy above you, a soft smile turning his lips up and leaving crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You reach up to cup his cheek, but at that exact moment Soap takes your clit between his lips and sucks, and your movement is halted as you moan.
You hear and feel both Rudy and Price laugh, and Rudy leans forward the last few inches to nuzzle his cheek into your palm. The two of you lean foreheads against each other as you moan, hips making small grinding motions into Soap’s face.
“You will,” Rudy says. “You’re a good girl, yes?”
You nod with a small keen as Johnny starts to work a third finger inside of your back hole.
He smiles. “Then you’ll take all of us.”
Alejandro replaces Price behind you at a certain point, his hard muscle a much less comfortable chair compared to the soft layer of fat lining Price. He’s smaller though, which means you can roll your face back into his neck and he only has to duck a few inches to give you the kisses you silently request.
“Out of the way, hermano,” Rudy says, softly shoving Soap away from you by the shoulders. Johnny doesn’t go easily at all, growling a little and hammering his fingers into you just a bit harder, enough to have you gasping and squirming. Ghost grabs Johnny by the nape of his neck before he can get too aggressive, yanking him away with an unimpressed look. 
“Thanks,” Rudy says on a laugh, getting a nod in return from Ghost. “Now, for you,” he turns to you and smiles, settling himself between your widely spread thighs so his hard member rests on your center, shaft pressing against your clit. “You ready to take us both, cariño?”
“Yes,” you sigh, pulling away from Alejandro and his absolutely sinful mouth, shooting both of them your best pleading look. “Please, want to feel you.”
“Shh,” Alejandro soothes, stroking one hand down the center of your chest and the other lining his own head up with your stretched hole. “You’ll get what you want, just relax for us.”
You take a deep breath, let your eyes slide shut. On the exhale they both push in, a slow thrust that leaves you feeling like you might burst. The three of you moan in sync, your head thrown back to Ale’s shoulder, his forehead falling to your temple, Rudy curling over so he can mouth at one of your nipples.
It takes a bit for them to bottom out inside of them at the slow pace, both of them large men. You’ve never had something quite so large in your ass, but the stretch feels exquisite.
The three of you are panting in sync as soon as you’re filled to the brim.
“You first, hermano,” Alejandro says from above you, his voice rough with desire.
Rudy laughs a little breathlessly. “I’m not going to argue with you.” He pulls far enough back to give you a long, sweet kiss, pulling away with a playful nip before holding himself up. He rests his hands on Alejandro’s shoulders to give himself the leverage that he wants.
“Feels so good,” you moan, undulating your hips just enough that they both pull out and sink back in. “C’mon, need it.”
Alejandro laughs, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. “Be patient, amor, he’s gonna give it to you.”
You try to shoot Rudy your best you better look, but it’s probably a little dulled by the man sucking hickies into your neck. 
Rudy fucks you deep. On each thrust he pulls out nearly the entire way, and each time he pushes back in he nearly hits your cervix. He’s not slow, but he’s not fucking you like an animal either. He feels perfect inside of you, sliding along that spot inside of you and bumping your clit every time he bottoms out.
The two of you moan loudly as he fucks you, Alejandro grunting at the sensations he’s getting, the way you clench down on him like you never want him to leave. You blink wet eyes open, glancing over to see what the others are up to on the other side of the bed.
You see Gaz with Price’s dick in his mouth - not sucking, just warming him - and Ghost jacking a very wiggly Soap off. They’re all staring at the show you’re putting on, all a little red in the cheeks with heavier breaths.
Price meets your eyes first. “You making them feel good, pet?”
You nod as much as you can manage, breath hitching when you try to answer.
“She’s unimaginable,” Rudy pants from above you, hips working just a bit quicker as he nears the edge. “Tight like you wouldn’t believe.”
Alejandro laughs at that, one hand slipping down your stomach to explore the soaked folds of your cunt. “Won’t be once we’re done with her.”
You moan when he finds your clit, rubbinb you in fast and rhythmic little circles that drag you right to the edge.
“Don’t leave her so loose we can’t have any fun,” Ghost gruffs, nearly drowned out by the moans and slick slapping sounds filling the room.
“Not-” Rudy starts, then stops to catch his breath as he starts to really fuck you, thrusts hard and pounding. “Not selfish, h-hermano.”
There’s a small laugh at that, but you don’t know who it’s from. You’re too focused on arching your back as much as you can, clenching down hard on the cock still stuffing your ass but not doing a thing, the way Alejandro’s fingers are driving you insane with their perfect little motions, and the way Rudy’s hitting every perfect spot inside of you.
“Gonna- gonne come, please, feels so good!” You gasp, moaning and letting your head roll back onto Alejandro’s shoulder, hips moving in a desperate attempt to push yourself off that cliff. Your hands come back to grip Alejandro’s head, and he presses kisses to your shoulder.
Finally, finally, you manage to reach that peak. You moan loudly as your thrown into an orgasm, body going completely limp between the two men, cunt clenching along with the waves of pleasure and milking both of them.
Rudy comes just after you, your inner muscle’s massage triggering his own orgasm. He buries himself to the hilt inside of you when he does, maoning and panting against your skin.
“Fuck,” Rudy hisses over your shoulder, working his fingers and sending both you and Rudy into overstimulation. “Feel so good clenched tight like that, amor, you feel so good for us.”
Rudy lifts his head enough to nudge at Alejandro’s head and you hear the slick sounds of making out as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. Alejandro’s fingers slow as your heartbeat does, working you down from the pleasure in a perfect way. You feel sort of like you’re being caught in a bed of feathers - a sharp fall with a soft fall, wrapped in softness and warmth when you hit the ground.
“Buena niña,” Rudy pants when he pulls apart from Alejandro. “Such a good girl, feel so good when you come around me.”
You can only whine at that, body still a little worked up with both holes filled.
Rudy fixes that problem by pulling out just a moment later, both his and your eyes glued to your hole as he does. There’s a slow dribble of cum as soon as he’s free of you, and neither of you bothers to hold back your moans.
“My turn,” Alejandro says, and you can feel the way he smirks against your neck. “You ready, cariño?”
You take a few deep breaths, let your nerves settle back into your body a bit, then nod. “Yes, want you too, Ale, want you to fuck me.”
“Good girl,” he purrs. A moment later he’s got you flipped onto your front, hands just barely catching you so you’re held up on hands and knees. He’s solid and tall behind you when you glance over your shoulder, hands planted on your hips to keep himself fully inside of you.
He cocks his head to the side a little, asking permission. Like this, you’re just a foot away from the sight of Gaz’s throat working at Price’s length, and over him you can see Soap writing in Ghost’s lap as the larger man gives his cock no mercy.
You shift your knees wider, slip down until your chest is pressed to the mattress, then nod your consent to Alejandro.
He braces you for a moment, giving your hips a quick squeeze as he shifts himself, then pulls nearly the entire way out of you. You shift on your knees a bit, whining at the anticipation, but he only shushes you, giving your hips a quick tap.
He doesn’t fuck you like Rudy had. Alejandro fucks you deep, but hardly pulls out even half-way on every thrust. It’s like he wants to be as connected to you as possible, keeping as much of himself buried in your heat as he can while still making himself feel good. The short, sharp thrusts leave you moaning on every breath, the sounds punched out of you.
“Good girl,” he moans above you, grip brusing on your hips. “Such a good cocksleeve for me, yeah? Nice and tight around my cock… clench down for me, amor, make it feel better.”
You listen to his command, moaning even louder when he feels that much larger inside of you. Clenching your rim tight around him makes the stretch burn just the slightest bit, even with all the prep you’d gotten, and you relish in the slight sting.
“Don’t foget about her,” Rudy pants from where he’s collapsed beside you, eyes glued to the way your cheeks bounce on every thrust. “She feels best when she’s coming.”
Alejandro bites out a curse, one of his hands leaving to move back to your slick folds. He tucks two fingers inside of you, drawing a loud cry from your throat, and rubs the heel of his hand against your swollen clit.
“Alejandro!” You shout, pushing yourself back on him and his hand to try and get more of the perfect sensations. “P-please, feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He leans over you, breath ghosting over your back as his thrusts get a little sloppier, a little harsher. “Feels nice, huh? Both holes stuffed full, just the way you were meant to be.”
His own words are what set him off, his dirty talk fading into a stream of moans as he stiffens buried inside of you, the hot splash of cum coating your insides. He works his palm and fingers slowly in your cunt, and you’re brought to a rolling orgasm, clenching hard on him.
Your moan is nearly pornographic, face squished against the sheets and back arched so your ass stays high in the air. He grinds his hips into your ass, getting as much of his dick inside of you as he can while you milk the cum from him.
He pulls out uncermoniously, and you can’t help but whine a little sadly at the sudden emptiness as both his cock and fingers leave you. He hushes you a bit, fingering some of his come back into your loose hole. “There you go, keep it nice and warm for me, cariño.”
“Alright,” you hear Ghost grunt from in front of you, open your eyes up just in time to see him throw Johnny off his lap and stand to make his way to the other side of the bed. “Our turn now, fuck off.”
Rudy and Alejandro both laugh good-naturedly, shifting to take their places beside Price and Gaz. You see the two of them cuddle up together, their slick cocks resting by one another. Gaz has shifted to nursing Price’s balls as he smokes a cigar, blowing the smoke straight up to the ceiling.
“Head up, c’mon,” Ghost grunts as he shifts onto the bed in front of you, resting on his knees and holding his dick straight out as you push yourself up. “Johnny, you can have at her cunt. Don’t come before I do.”
“Yes, Sir,” Soap says, and you just barely have time to brace yourself for the rough fucking you know is coming when Johnny rams himself balls-deep inside of you. You both moan loudly at the feeling, and you fall back down to your elbows.
Ghost doesn’t bother telling you to sit up again, instead just grabs you by the hair and pulls up until he can slip himself into your mouth. With the way Soap is pounding you, you’re forced to nearly deepthroat him as soon as your lips close. 
You gag immediately, scrambling up onto your hands to try and save your poor throat. It’s almost impossible to think past the way that Soap uses your slick hole, the pounding making stars appear across your vision.
Ghost laughs at you when tears start to leak down your cheeks, one hand coming to pat you just a little harshly on the cheek as you’re fucked back and forth on his dick.
“Don’t even need to do anything, do I?” He hums, the hand on your face moving lower to wrap around your throat, making it feel even more like you’re choking. “Doing good, Johnny, you’re practically fucking her mouth for me.”
Johnny’s far past the point of words, only managing to moan as he huncehs over your back, lips tracing patterns across your shoulder blades and leaving trails of spit.
“Yeah, good boy. You’re a good girl too, sweetheart,” Ghost praises, using the hand on your head to brush the hair away from your face. You look up just in time to catch the smile on his face as he stares down at you. “Such a good cock sucker. Why don’t you use your tongue a little, c’mon. Don’t make Johnny do all the work now.”
It’s hard to work past the pistoning into your cunt, but you manage to listen to Ghost, licking up the underside of his length as best you can while being fucked raw. Johnny’s pace never falters, and you have no idea how he manages to keep himself from flying over the edge.
You trace the vein on the underside of Ghost’s dick with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking to try and make him feel good. You can’t do much to move your head - the palm holding the back of your skull leaves that in his hands - so you try to focus your efforts on what you can do.
The gagging sounds are constant. The way Soap is fucking you, you can’t hold your balance properly, and you end up choking on nearly every thrust.
At some point, Johnny reaches the end of his rope. “Ghost, please, need to come, have to, ‘m so close, please….”
Ghost chuckles, a deep and mean sound. “Can’t hold it?”
A whine from Johnny, and you feel him shake his head against your back.
“Hm. Well, that’s too bad. Both me and our girl here are gettin’ off before you. Why don’t the two of you work on makin’ that happen.”
It takes you a moment to understand what he means, but when Johnny’s fingers start to work frantically at your oversensitive clit, you understand. Your eyes roll back in your head at the pleasure, and it’s all you can do to keep from going completely limp and suffocating on Ghost’s dick.
“There you go,” he moans, thrusting a little further into your mouth. “Feels good when you moan, sweetheart. Make her do it again, Johnny.”
And he does. You’re trapped in the animalistic fucking from Soap, your poor hole feeling stretched out and used, and you’re unable to escape the relentless pleasure shooting from your clit to your brain.
Both you and Johnny are thankful that it doesn’t take Ghost long at all to come. Once you’re moaning and choking on every thrust, it only takes a few seconds for him to be spurting come down your throat.
He pulls your mouth off of him, holding you back so that he can jack some of the come onto your face. He works his fat cock roughly, and you can’t help but stare at him as he gets himself off. He’s mean to himself, and somehow that’s what gives you the last push you need to clench down hard around Soap.
This orgasm is almost painful. Johnny doesn’t let up on you at all, keeps hammering his cock into you, keeps rubbing just past the line of too-harshly, and it leaves you crying out. You collapse back down to the bed when Ghost lets you, face smearing cum into the sheets. You feel like every nerve is on fire - your clit especially - and you instinctually start to writhe away from the source of it all, from Johnny. 
You hear Price laugh from the side. “Ease up on her, Johnny, you’ve got the poor thing running away from you.”
Johnny whines over your shoulder, digging his teeth into your skin and sucking. Your eyes roll back in your head as you’re forced into an even steeper arch, his cock bullying another inch inside of you.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Ghost grunts, and you feel Johnny pulled off of you. One second you’re receiving a fucking like you never have before, the next you’re left empty and open, legs still spread wide. You can’t help but whine a little, blinking teary eyes open.
Soap is begging from behind you. “No, no, no, L.t., please, I was so close, I can’t fuckin’… please, feel like I’m gonna die-!”
Ghost scoffs and you hear what you might think is a slap. You’re too focused on watching the way Price shifts Gaz off of his cock and up, then moves him like a doll so he’s leaning back agains the headboard and sitting up properly to look over your shoulder at Ghost and Soap.
“You’re gonna die, really Johnny? Stop throwing a tantrum or you really won’t get to come in our girl tonight.”
“No, sorry, sorry, I’ll be good, promise.”
“Then shut up and wait for your command.”
“Yes, sir.”
While the two of them argue, Price leans over to scoop you up by the armpits, wearing a sweet smile. He settles you on Gaz’s lap, knees bracketing his hips, then presses a dry kiss to your forehead. You wrap your arms around Kyle’s neck, leaning forward to nuzzle him as Price gives him the same treatment. His shaft rests perfectly against your cunt, head just poking at your hole.
“Bring him over here, Simon,” Price orders, stroking both of his hands over you and Gaz’s heads. As Johnny settles behind you he slips a hand down to your neck, forcing you to rest your face against Gaz’s throat and arch your back. 
Price stays with the three of you still, using one hand to steady Gaz’s cock and the other to shift your hips, helping you to sink down over it. You both moan into each other’s skin, and you feel a little drool slip from your lips.
“Good, there you go,” Price soothes, petting your thigh and down to Kyle’s once you’re fully seated. “Now, stretch her out a little more to take you, Johnny. Don’t be too quick - I still haven’t had my turn.”
Price stays another minute or so to help you get used to riding Gaz, guiding you up and down in a slow, but filling motion. Gaz is just as overwhelmed with pleasure as you are, gasping and moaning against your shoulder.
Once Price leaves, you feel a finger trace around Kyle’s cock. You jerk forward with a little whine, eyes flying open to meet Price’s where he’s settled against the headboard.
“Just relax,” he soothes as Ghost settles next to him. “Let Johnny fuck you, yeah? You know he’ll make it feel good. Poor lad just wants to come.”
Johnny whines at that, almost an agreement, and you nod a little, canting your hips further back so he’s got more room to work.
The first finger has you moaning, head thrown back at the stretch. He uses the cum and lube from your ass to slick your passage, making the sound of Kyle fucking you even wetter.
Each finger he adds feels like it’ll split you down the middle. Johnny doesn’t rush you but he does move just a bit faster than you might’ve asked - not so fast that you safeword, but enough for you to notice the stretch. Each addition makes you moan, burying your face a little further into the safety of Gaz’s neck.
Gaz himself is moaning on every thrust. The two of you work together, him helping lift you up so you can fuck yourself properly on him. You can feel him sucking hickies into your neck, and the soft throbbing offers a nice distraction from the pleasure wreaking havoc on your body.
Finally, Johnny deems you stretched enough.
“Go slowly,” Ghost warns as Johnny lines himself up with you. Kyle settles you so you rest on his thighs and he’s buried to the hilt, Johnny’s head pushing lightly at your rim. “You hurt her, I hurt you.”
“I know,” Johnny grunts, sinking his teeth into the shoulder Gaz hasn’t claimed. He starts to force his way into your dripping hole, and the three of you groan in unison.
You’ve never been so stretched in your life - as Johnny slowly sinks in you’re nearly convinced you’ll tear. The pressure alone is almost better than anything you’ve ever felt, and you can’t stop the continuous stream of whines and moans as Johnny inches further and further inside of you.
Gaz and Soap are just as far gone as you, both of them grunting and moaning.
“Fuck,” Gaz pants, fingers massaging your hip to keep himself still. “Can feel you, Johnny, you’re so warm.”
“Of-of course you can feel me,” Johnny says, letting go of your shoulder to lick around the area he’d been abusing. “We’re fucking the same hole, mate.” 
You bark out a laugh at that, but it quickly turns into a draw out moan when Johnny buries himself inside of you.
“Let us know when you’re alright,” Gaz says into your ear, voice heavy with need. “We can wait for you.”
It takes what feels like an eternity for you to adjust to the stretch. You rest yourself fully on Gaz’s shoulders, giving him your weight so you can just sit on their cocks. You take deep breaths to try and soothe the growing ache and get as used to the stretch as you can.
It must be several minutes later when you finally nod. “Go ahead,” you breathe. “I’m good, I can take it.”
Johnny laughs in your ear, the sound a little choked. “Attagirl.”
They find a pace that works quickly, Soap thrusting in as Gaz pulls out. The rhythm leaves you constantly filled, one of them always as deep as they can get. It also leaves them both in shambles, the rubbing of the other’s cock combined with your wet heat sending them into space.
None of you are capable of speech, just sounds pressed into each other’s skin. You think maybe Kyle and Johnny lock lips for a bit, but it’s hard to tell past the sounds of your coupling. You certainly don’t have the strength to do anything but lay there and take them into your body.
The way they work you over, one of them is always pressing against your g-spot. The constant stimulation leaves you whining. You feel like you might die, might just burn up into a thousand embers. Every inch of you feels overexposed, flayed open, and your cunt throbs.
You don’t need any pressure to your clit this time. Just the stretch of two cocks at once is more than enoug. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave - you can feel it growing, know it’s going to be catastrophic, and when it hits you feel dragged under 
Neither Soap or Gaz let up as you reach your peak. In fact they only get more vigorous, losing their rhythm as they start to focus on just getting themselves off. You yelp when they bottom out at once, one of them managing to poke at your cervix, and the insticutal muscle spasm has both of them moaning.
Johnny comes first, panting and gnawing at your shoulder as he bucks his hips into yours. You’re convinced there must be red spots on your ass from how hard he thrusts into you, but even that slight pain just makes everything feel better.
Gaz’s orgasm is triggered by Johnny’s - feeling you clench down so perfectly on him, feeling Soap’s cock twitch and throb right next to his, it’s all too much. They’re both thrown off of that cliff edge, moaning into your skin. 
By the time it’s over and you’ve all cooled down, the three of you are left just a limp pile of limbs, unable to do anything but be.
Price is the one who finally untangles you all. He grabs you by your elbows, drawing you away from Gaz and into his arms. You can’t help but wince and cry out when both Johnny and Kyle slip out of you at the same time, your hole fluttering around nothing.
“I know, I know,” Price soothes, laying you on your back. “You’re ok, deep breaths for me now. That’s good, doll, just like that.”
He hovers above you, stroking up and down your ribs while you slowly float back into your skin. When you finally manage to look up at him, he’s wearing a look of such pride that you can’t help but cry a little more.
He coos, swiping away your tears. “Pretty girl, you’re alright. Just one more, and then you’re done.”
You nod. “Want- want to make you feel good too,” you sniffle a bit, leaning further into his hand. “Can’t come again though, won’t feel good.”
“You don’t want any more orgasms?” His tone is a little condescening, but you just shake your head. “That’s alright, honey, you don’t need to get off. Just gotta lay nice and still for me, you can do that, can’t you?”
You nod as he tucks your legs up, pushing your thighs back until your knees rest by your head. The stretch is hardly noticeable with every other sensation wracking your body.
You feel his fingers pet around your pussy, whine when he glances over your clit.
“I’d hoped to have my turn with this little hole,” he hums, tucking a few fingers inside of you and rubbing. You hardly feel them at all. “But it’s too stretched out for me. Bet I wouldn’t feel a thing if I tried to fuck you here, huh?”
You whine sadly at that, burying your face in your calf.
“That’s alright. I know needy girls have to be stretched like that sometimes, it’s not your fault, pet. Just means I’ll have to use your other hole - good thing you have two, hm?”
He doesn’t give you any more prep, just rubs himself a few times and thrusts into your asshole in one long movement.
You’re so fucked out, it’s hard to keep track of his words after that. You can feel them rumbling through your thighs when he leans down to pepper kisses across your face, but they’re unintelligible. All you can focus on are the long, slow thrusts into you. Price drops nearly his full weight into you on every thrust, but each movement feels glacial. 
He’s big enough to stretch you out a bit, to make sure you still feel the slight sting of something too big being where it’s not meant to be. It’s not enough to get you off, but the heavy weight and motions still feel heavenly inside you.
Eventually he comes - you’re not sure how long it’s been or what it is that gets him there, but you feel him jerk to a stop, then feel his come spreading inside of you. It’s a nice feeling, and you smile as you let your eyes drift shut. 
“Thank you,” you hear him whisper, his whiskers brushing over your cheeks. “Thank you, sweet girl. Felt so good for me.”
Things exist in snippets past that.
Someone pulls you up to their chest (you open your eyes long enough to recongize Alejandro, go back to snoozing right after), someone wipes a cloth softly over both of your holes and shushes your whine (you think you see Ghost walking from the en-suite to the bed), someone lays their weight across your back (you feel Soap’s mohawk brush your arm), another over your legs.
You fall asleep like that, dogpiled in bed with your favorite men, all of you drained and sated. You can’t think of a more perfect way to spend a night.
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They’re all at Tesco’s at the same time
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boyfortheslaughter · 8 months
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MY BROTHER, MY WOUND
@/bookwyrminspiration / john steinbeck, ‘chapter 9: the piggyback’ / richard siken, ‘crush’ / genesis 4:9 / natalia diaz, ‘a brother named gethsemane’ / ocean vuong, ‘on earth we’re briefly gorgeous’ / taylor jenkins reid, ‘daisy jones & the six’ / john darnielle / @/filmnoirsbian / conan gray, ‘the exit’ / traci brimhall, ‘come the slumberless to the land of nod’ / layana clouet, ‘a love letter to a dead thing’ / anne carson, ‘antigonick’ / michael dickman, ‘killing flies’
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bowenoke · 9 months
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dindjarindiaries · 11 months
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A big reason why I personally don't like the idea of a romance between Din and Bo-Katan is because I love the idea of a man pledging his loyalty and, above all, his utmost respect to a woman without there being some kind of undertone of something he wants from her—love, wealth, etc. The idea of Din being loyal to Bo simply because he sees her as a strong, wise, and powerful person on her own is so much more meaningful to me than it being because he's attracted to her or in love with her.
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roachemoji · 3 months
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🤡 ⭐️ funny little cardigan 🌙 ❤️
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maybe I'll actually dress up and style an outfit or something
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ohnohargrove · 6 months
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I just imagine Vincent Sinclair would be an incredibly sweet boyfriend. Imagine that he's been caught up in his work for the majority of the day. You had all shared breakfast together at the table before everyone had to go off to do their respective duties. Lester had dropped by that morning and he had gone off to do some repairs in the movie theater, Bo had gone down to the garage to work on a particularly rusty (and "a stubbon sonafabitch" in his words) truck he got from one of his latest victims, and Vincent had hurried off to the basement workshop to start on a new sculpture for the museum. He had assured you he'd be back sometime late this afternoon.
It was now 9 PM and Lester was watching you and Bo get into a very heated game of War on the living room coffee table. Bo was on the couch, You were cross-legged on the floor with Jonesy's head in your lap, sound asleep even though there was heated cursing going on, and Lester was on the arm chair to the side of both of you. Bo threw the cards down on the table. "Goddammit! Where th' HELL do you keep gettin' those joker cards" he let out, bringing his hands up to his face. Lester and you both knew the game was basically over at that point.
You looked at the old, dusty clock on the wall and Lester noticed the look you gave when you finally saw the time. He reached into the cooler beside his chair, got up, and handed both you and the fuming man a cold bottle of beer. "Hey now," he assured, putting a hand on your shoulder, "sometimes Vince gets caught up in his work, that's all. He's always been like that ever since we were little. It's best to just let him do his thing. He'll come 'round. Promise." Bo flicked the cap off of his bottle and onto the pile of scattered cards. "Yeah, damn perfectionist probably can't get the nose right or somethin'." He took a large swig of his beer. "You gonna shuffle those cards and re-deal 'em so I can kick your ass?" You and Lester both shared a knowing look that another game would just turn him into an even bigger sore loser, but you obliged.
It was a little past 11 at that point. Lester had decided to head home after Bo lost for a second time and started pulling the silent treatment towards you. "Jonesy can have a little sleepover with you tonight" Lester said as he was getting his boots on, "she's had a rough day of running up and down the isles and knocking stuff over while I was fixin' it. I think she's pretty tuckered out." You thanked Lester and told Bo you were heading off to bed, which he ignored ("he'll get over it in the morning" you thought to yourself). You passed the basement door on the way to the stairs and still heard opera music playing from below. Lester was right, it's best not to disturb him if he's really this caught up in sculpting. You called Jonesy up the stairs and promised her that she could sleep under the covers tonight.
Light streamed into the windows and hit your face. You noticed that Vincent hadn't come to bed that night and Jonesy was now gone. You looked over at your nightstand to see what time it was, but sitting in front of the old alarm clock was a small figure obscuring it's view. You rubbed your eyes and noticed that it was a small dog sculpted from wax with a folded note underneath. You smiled as you picked the little dog up and ran your fingers over the detailed fur. You reached over to open the note and see what it said. It was somewhat dingey paper with immaculate handwriting scrawled on it.
"My dearest one, I'm incredibly sorry that I stayed out so late last night. I feel horrible that I promised you I'd be done, but time had slipped away from me and I didn't want to wake you. I'm having a particularly tough time with the face of my newest sculpture (especially the nose) and it will take longer than I had anticipated. If you'd like, you may join me for breakfast in my workshop as I finish up. If not, I should be done by noon and I mean it this time. I think Jonesy might like to play in the yard for a while. Forever yours, Vincent"
You got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen, grabbing a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator along with some butter to make toast. You planned on bringing your boyfriend some sunny side up eggs for breakfast and chatting while he finished his work. Playing frisbee with Jonesy could wait until noon so all three of you could play. At that thought, you felt a cold nose press the back of your leg and you handed the pup a slice of bread.
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Bo(Jan)2 chest fondling, part three:
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synthwwavve · 1 year
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some colorful mandos ✌️
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henricavyll · 1 year
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The brain is wider than the sky. For put them side by side, the one the other will contain. With ease, and you beside. The brain is deeper than the sea. For hold them, blue to blue, the one the other will absorb, as sponges buckets do.
1899 (2022 ─ ) 🜃 1.01 “The Ship” Netflix | cr. Baran Bo Odar & Jantje Friese 
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mostlyfate · 6 months
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I’m here to stick to you. Why won’t I stick? I need to stick to you. Why do I keep moving away from you? You are sticking to me. Hong-jo. No. I need to stick to you. You are sticking to me. I'll stick to you.
DESTINED WITH YOU 연애는 불가항력 2023, dir. nam ki hoon
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ohbo-ohno · 4 months
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merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)
5.7k, mind the tags <3
cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)
Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.
It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.
Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.
You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth. 
You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart. 
Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.
There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year. 
But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.
It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.
The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.
You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.
He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.
He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.
There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.” 
You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.
There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.
Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.
There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.
You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.
You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.
He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.
You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.
The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.
But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor. 
The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.
“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.
“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.
The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”
Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.
“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”
You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs. 
He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.
You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.
You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap. 
Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.
You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.
“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”
You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.
“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”
Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.
“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”
You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.
The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.
He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.
“Keep movin’, Soap.”
“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”
The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.
Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.
You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.
Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.
You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.
He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.
“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”
“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”
His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.
He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”
You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.
You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.
“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”
You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”
Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.
“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”
The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.
You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”
“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”
You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.
He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.
The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.
You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.
He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.
Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.
“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”
Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.
“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”
You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.
“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?” 
“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.
“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”
“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.
“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”
You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure. 
It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.
He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body. 
“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”
You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.
“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”
Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form. 
You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.
He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.
“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back. 
He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.
“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”
You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.
You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.
“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”
You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.
“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”
You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance. 
The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.
The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true. 
He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.
Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.
You don’t even have the energy to beg.
The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.
You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.
He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.
“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”
Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted. 
His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.
Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster. 
There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.
You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.
“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.
“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.
You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships. 
So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.
The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.
You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.
Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.
He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.
You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”
You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year. 
So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers. 
Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.
———————————————————————
You wake, gasping, in a dark room. 
You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.
“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”
You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.
He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.
He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked. 
Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”
That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.
It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”
Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”
Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”
Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.
Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human. 
“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”
You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes. 
“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”
It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”
The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.
“Is the Purge over?”
The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.
“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”
You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”
Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”
You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”
Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”
“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”
“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”
You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.
“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”
Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”
His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”
You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.
“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”
“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.
Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.
It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds. 
Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.
Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.
With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.
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handkinkbis · 7 months
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