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A follow-up request from Absinthsunset for this jealous ghoap… thank you again💚💚

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azem warm-up

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anyway

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Knight and the enemy within

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Some biker Ghost for nat and pirate ghoap for Tree! Thanks so much 🏍️☠️

(+ period ghoap for me...)

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pt. 2 of sleepy Price commission for @oasislake76 ✨

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Another Roach before I forget

please don’t shake him (plea that will be ignored)

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🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Hey Cali! This is my first ask (ever) so bare with me. Would you do Soap losing his v-card? Like, we know he’s confident in his abilities as a lover now, but what was he like as an awkward first timer? Maybe in his late teens/early 20’s? Thank you!!

I feel like Johnny tried his best to grow up as the good Catholic lad his ma wanted him to be, despite his early and obvious inclination to lustful stimulation. But the Good Book (mostly) only forbade the true act of sex, so… he decided to practice all of the other skills.

It started when he saw his first pair of gorgeous, hanging tits. His sweetheart had come swimming with him down by the pond behind his house, wearing nothing but a bra and knickers on a particularly hot summer day. She and Johnny had been jumping into the pond and dunking each other under all day, until one time, she came up but her bra stayed down, and there they were. The perfect, puffy nipple of her breast called to him like a siren’s tune, and he dedicated himself to learning every little thing he could about them from that point on. When he licked them with the tip of his tongue, or when he suckled them deep inside his hot mouth, or when he nipped at them with his sharp teeth; he memorized the noises she made like it was his favorite song.

But then, he discovered the juicy feel of her pussy lips on his mouth, and he was done for.

Sneaking off to throw rocks at the window of his pretty lass, coaxing her downstairs before stealing her away to hide in the heather with his head buried between her legs, licking her sweet cunt until his mouth went numb, holding her down with all of his strength, telling her what a bonnie wee lamb she was and to keep those soft thighs open for him. Never could seem to slake his thirst after that first time.

All the while, his poor neglected cock would leak and spill in his jeans, wet from his helpless rutting into the soft ground as he humped and licked and sucked until he came. The number of times he’d had to lie and say that he’d spilled tea down his trousers was getting to be ridiculous.

Or, when he took his little lamb on a date to see a scary film, holding her close as she hid her face from the movie monsters, he would comfort her. He’d coo and whisper to her to come a bit closer until she was nearly straddling his thigh. Then, he’d loop his hand below her skirt to feel that sticky heat that lay so close to him, playing just inside the rim of her sensitive hole. And when she gasped again, this time it wasn’t because she was afraid of the big baddies on the screen.

And he felt justified in his tireless training. When his bonnie girl would protest, saying it was wrong, it was a sin, that he shouldn’t be rubbing her there. He’d frown and shake his head, saying that she shouldnae fash her wee self. He wasnae prodding deep into her pussy with his thick, drooling cock. After all, it was just his fingers curling and pressing and digging for the spot that made her eyes shine with hot tears of pleasure. By the time he’d take her home, the poor lamb would barely be able to walk straight on those shaking legs.

It wasn’t until he met you that he thought about taking his practice to the next level. You let him take things so much further than his sweetheart had done. She’d never allowed him to lay his heavy body above her in her bed, and even if you were still fully clothed, she would never have convinced him to thrust himself against you over your silky pajamas, humping his cock over your slippery shorts.

And she never would’ve thought to tell him to take his clothes off while he was practicing. You know, to make it seem more like the real thing. It was no problem. Surely it was safe enough if you were still fully dressed, right? Well. Mostly dressed. Okay, maybe your satin slip was hanging low beneath your swaying tits, hypnotizing poor virginal Johnny as he pretended to fuck you.

But, when you finally got him to strip down, he could see the benefits. It did feel so real. As he shoved his swollen cock against your silk shorts, he could almost feel your body’s warmth embracing him in a carnal, forbidden way. And he would come so quickly at first. It took weeks of practicing before he could keep himself from spraying ropes of milky come all over your belly after only five minutes of grinding against your quim.

You loved watching him hone his craft, watching as his blue eyes begged and pleaded for release, his huge muscles twisting and bulging with every bed-shaking thrust, pushing his cockhead against your covered clit until you were a shuddering, whimpering mess.

Eventually, he could last long enough to pull you over the edge two or three times, enjoying dipping his fingers just inside the wide leg of your pajama shorts to pull your taste onto his fingers, licking you like a bowl of homemade frosting. Just a taste, bonnie.

The only problem was, the wetter you became, the more your silk shorts seemed to slide around, sometimes letting the hot body of his prick slip between your folds on accident.

Mostly on accident.

Surely Johnny would never be grinding himself exactly in the direction that moved your shorts to the side the easiest. Surely he could feel that he was thrusting against your soft flesh rather than the safety of your clothes. Surely that wasn’t his jerking, prodding cockhead that had slipped into the cradle of your quim…

Oops.

Looks like he’ll be on his knees asking Father for forgiveness, and you’ll be on your knees, looking up at him, stretching your throat out again, begging him for some more practice.

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( ´･･)ﾉ(˃ ⤙ ˂ ) *pat pat sfx*

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Keeping it tactical ✔️

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Soap didn’t cut his hair while way. Ghost hopes he never cuts it again <3

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I'm a fool for lingering touches and stolen glances

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OMM NOM NOM

WIP Wednesday - 10/16

I'm scheduling this on Sunday night because I can, I guess.

Have some Omegaverse Lore for Palace Hallways. (Omegaverse was not in the initial plans, but y'know what? Why the hell not add more complicated relationships to the mix.)

I'm letting myself play fast and loose with this one, and I'm trying not to get too bogged down with the details.

Fandom: Call of Duty Modern Warfare Reboot

Working Title: Palace Hallways Relevant Hashtag: #Palace Hallways WIP

Alternate Universe: High Fantasy

Pairing: Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, Simon Riley x OFC 'Petal'

Rating: E (For Explicit)

Story CW: Omegaverse, Dubcon, Sex. There's more but I haven't written it yet, sorry. (I will update as appropriate.)

Snippet CW: Implied coitus and masturbation, Possessive Alpha behavior

Synopsis: It's not awful being the newly crowned Queen's lady-in-waiting. What is awful is the attention you've unintentionally garnered from Sir Garrick. What's even worse, is the Royal Artificer and Royal Druid seem to be paying you the same kind of attention. You're a mess, and no one will do anything about it. (I need to update this, I'm realizing.)

Divider by @/thecutestgrotto

For now though, you’ve been sent to procure a number of comforts for her rut - fruity and herbal teas to sustain her when she rests, soft woven blankets and towels to wrap around her body and drape around her room to mark her territory, and some specific delicacies from one of the visiting merchants to sate her hunger when she’s coherent. You know the artificer has some tools he’s been experimenting with - things to help alleviate the cramps and facilitate her climax, reducing some of the more manual and involved labor you and her other chambermaids must do to coax her through her rut.

When she’s married, it will likely become the role of her spouse, but for now the duty falls primarily on you.

Her acidic cranberry scent bleeds into your nose as you duck under a branch - she insisted you wear her cloak to the market, so others know that you have been chosen by an alpha, even if you are not claimed. Were her clothes able to fit you, you imagine she would have insisted you wear a gown of hers. As it is, her insignia is branded visibly across the olive green fabric, reinforcing the scent and marking you as chosen.

As an omega lady-in-waiting, to be claimed is not in your cards. You made your peace with that during your second heat. Now, you suffer through the week, barricading yourself in your meager chambers and dulling the pain with teas and herbal concoctions. Your fingers and a flared dildo from the artificer are sufficient to quench the thirst for a knot. You will remain unclaimed, but chosen and tied to your Lady Alpha.

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honk shi mi mi

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Not all at once now Ghost, he got only do so much kiss kiss😚

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(“i want to know what love is” playing in the background)