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killerpancakeburger · 5 months ago

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One man's penalty is another man's prize

SUMMARY: When agreeing to lend a hand with the organisation of some military tests, you thought it would be limited to marking times and keeping scores. Statistically, there was no way that the... "creative" penalty you came up with would be selected, right?

And the chances for your boyfriend to be the one subjected to it had to be close to zero, right?

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader (Soaps calls Reader Ma'am twice, that's it)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Fat!Reader, Smug!Soap x1000, a bit Possessive!Soap, Established Relationship, flirting, banter, teasing, partial nudity. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies. Suggestive content but nothing graphic.

WORDS COUNT: 2k

A/N: crackfic...? Soap does push-ups fic. Soap wears booty shorts fic. That actually no one One (1) person asked for.

If you need "visual on the target", this piece by @rusticfurnace and this one by @wombywoo have been on my mind. (Hoping its ok to tag, if not, tell me)

For @glitterypirateduck Cod Vacation Mode Challenge, prompt 27.

A drop of sweat falls from your temple and lands onto the stack of papers you were scribbling on. You wipe off your dripping wet forehead with the back of your arm.

The torrid sun is beating down hard on the ground and bodies alike.

This unforgiving heat left you no respite all day long, despite the fact that all you did was sit and take notes. Drenched in sweat, you fan yourself with your notepad. Perspiration keeps accumulating between the rolls of your stomach no matter how many times you dry it off. Today's the base annual testing day, an unofficial gathering meant to measure soldiers’ performance and entertain some friendly competition.

You would almost regret committing to helping today by playing scribes, but the sadistic satisfaction of seeing others toiling away while you twiddle your thumbs is enough to thwart that feeling. That, and Soap's little… display.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head when you arrived this morning and stumbled upon him stretching his legs, bent over, fingers aiming for his feet, wearing the shortest, thighest shorts you've ever seen. Then he greeted you as if nothing was out of the ordinary. You glanced in interrogation at Gaz and Ghost, who were respectively wearing Bermudas and tracksuits, and were met with a shrug and an eye roll.

To make matters worse, he traded his blue shirt for a sleeveless top that did wonders for his arms and shoulders - as if his tanned biceps weren't already a work of art and a weapon of mass destruction all at once.

You don’t know which incubus possessed him to wear booty shorts, but you definitely aren't complaining.

You spend the day ogling him shamelessly, knowing he was putting on a show for you. He'd sponge down his glistening face with the bottom of his shirt, offering you a tantalizing view of his toned stomach. He'd throw dazzling smiles, teasing winks and blow kisses your way. At some point, he even emptied his water bottle on his head, resulting in his shirt turning transparent and sticking to his skin in an almost obscene way.

His myriad of attentions made you dizzy, in the best of ways. You may have made yourself look like a lovesick fool, with your blissfully happy smiles and your stupid giggles, but except for the people you were close with, no one would dare to nag you about it - lest a certain Scottish sergeant with a big mouth and no fear of confrontation gets all up in their face.

Strong, bronzed hands heavily lean on your desk. Palms are turned towards you, fingers gripping the table's edge.

“M ‘ere fer my penalty.”

The voice is raspy, accent thick, tone charming and teasing at the same time.

You slowly look up from your paper to meet Soap's cerulean eyes; along the way you can’t help but peek at his tanned arms, his bulging biceps, the beads of sweat rolling down his neck, the familiar chin scar in the middle of his dark stubble. His shirt is soaked with sweat.

He's wearing the grin he has every time he lays eyes on you; a blinding, earnest thing. However, even that beguiling smile cannot hide the spark of triumph and playfulness in his gaze.

Johnny's terribly competitive, that's an open secret. It's no surprise that today's tests would fire him up. The perpetual FNG has a title to defend, after all, and with you watching, the stakes are high despite the tests’ results bearing no influence on their file.

But that excitement wasn’t supposed to target you.

“A penalty?” you repeat, unconvinced, twirling your pen between your fingers. “You?”

Doubt infused with sarcasm seeps in your tone, very much on purpose. You raise a skeptical eyebrow, on your guard.

Your first instinct was to withdraw, prop yourself against the backrest, the distance between the two of you reduced to something too trivial to be proper, but you can’t back off from his implicit challenge. It's a well-crafted game with the two of you as its exclusive players. A dance of provocation and endearment, a mischievous yet comfortable back and forth.

The lack of privacy of it would usually discourage your bashful nature, who avoids confrontation at all costs. But the sergeant has figured out how to appeal to the competitive, driven part of you. So you stand your ground, brazenly, like you're the only two people in the world.

There is no way that Soap earned a penalty, no way that he lost. He's one of the best there is, if not the best - not that his ego needs the boost.

The SAS's youngest prodigue who beat all previous records, his name forever carved into the archives and his legend whispered among impressionable new recruits.

Not to mention that the way he said “my penalty” sounded more like “my prize” than anything else.

“‘ere. Proof.”

He hands out a piece of paper to you, a smug smirk not leaving his lips, one that is not without evoking the satisfied expression of the cat who got the cream. Your fingers brush his as you retrieve the “penalty receipt”, the contact feeling like flames licking your skin.

You take a break from defiantly holding his gaze to glance at the note. Its contents sends an ominous shiver down your spine, your eyes slightly widening in understanding.. and horror.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The odds were, what, one in hundreds? Amplified by the fact that Soap was the one to get ahold of it, out of all competitors.

You vainly stare at your own scrawl, as if that could make the ink vanish, but reality simply gazes back.

When asked to participate in making up a penalty, you wrote the silliest thing that came to mind, as a sort of inside joke only yourself would be privy to. Eight innocuous little words that would sign your downfall.

“Do fifty push-ups with me on their back”.

The fifty was an arbitrary pick between twenty that you judged too lenient, and a hundred that would take too long; however, you've thought a bit more about the “me on their back” part. You were heavier than the average soldier's rucksack - significantly so. It had to be a challenge, so you've made it this way.

Yet you never expected to actually end up on someone's back.

How Johnny managed to get his hands on your penalty out of all of them, you'd probably never find out, but you couldn’t deny that the “me” mentioned was you. Indeed, on top of your… recognizable handwriting, the note was adorned with little scribbles you had mindlessly doodled while bored. They were simple but easily identifiable: a foamy bar of soap, a deadpan skull, a jerrycan wearing a cap, and a stack of cash with a hat, or, put differently, the Task Force 141 stylized.

A version of the team that Soap was well-versed with, having witnessed you drawing it countless times.

There was no way out of the corner you were backed into - Soap put you on the spot, the brightest one possible, and that little shit knew it perfectly - did it on purpose.

You sigh exaggeratedly as you get up. You bypass your desk to stand in front of Johnny, not missing the way he looks you up and down. This is the first time he's seeing you in shorts, and despite how self-conscious you are about the girth of your chafing thighs, he makes it obvious how much he's enjoying the view. You cross your arms with an amused smile on your lips.

“You know you’re not supposed to enjoy your penalty, right? Kinda defeats the purpose.”

His smile mirrors yours as he bends over to whisper in your ear, close enough for you to feel his body heat, but not making a move to touch you.

“And ye do know I’d never let any of those eejits sweat and grunt under ye? That's my prerogative.”

Despite the shiver his gravelly voice sent down your spine,you throw your head back in laughter.

“Ooh so that's what this is! You're jealous.”

He remains unfazed by the accusation.

“Call it what ye want.”

“You do know I'm heavier than your rucksack, right? Much heavier? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

His eyes glint with hunger for challenge.

“Don't knock it til you've tried it.”

“Fine. Drop and give me twenty, pretty boy.”

His grin becomes blinding. He reaches behind to grab the back of his shirt and rips it off like it burned him.

You gape despite yourself in front of his glistening chest, all tanned skin, white scars, hard stomach and soft pecs, and he gently lifts your chin up with his index finger to close your mouth, an extremely smug smirk adorning his lips.

“Yes, Ma'am. Right away, Ma'am.”

From a stranger's perspective, his reply drips with an insolence that matches the cockiness he exhibited all day. But you know better; you can hear the underlying docility in his tone, the one he expresses when you two are intimate.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he kneels, the display way too lascivious for how public it is. You bite your lips, frowning your eyebrows in warning, but say nothing as he obeys and performs the twenty push-ups asked - on one arm. It is good that the position prevents him from staring at you, because you reckon otherwise he'd be giving you the slyest grin.

More than the impressive show of strength; more than the way his skin glows with sweat; more than the flaunting of his imposing muscles; the knowledge that he's undertaking it all for you is what tightens the band of arousal in your stomach, along with multiplying the bubbles of happiness and affection in your chest.

“Gonna take a seat, bonnie?”

He's forced to heckle you since you were so caught up in your staring that you forgot that the next part of the penalty required your participation.

And of course, he chose the cheekiest way to do so. The question, innocent at first glance, sent you back into the bedroom. The last time he asked you that was right before you sat on his face. And the time before that was when you rid him.

You oblige yourself to focus on the here and now, and carefully straddle Soap's back.

“Are you sure you can- Woh.”

He interrupts you by suddenly lowering and rising his body, obliging you to grab his shoulders to keep your balance, but easily demonstrating that the added weight has very little impact on his performance.

“Alright, alright, you convinced me,” you yield. “That's only one out of fifty, though.”

“And yet ye dare doubt me again,” he grumbles under his breath, initiating a steadfast pace.

It is a shame that your current position prevents you from watching his face, but you concentrate on other things instead. Never before did you have the opportunity to revel in the glorious vision that was his powerful back.

You tease him by periodically clenching your thighs without warning, squeezing the meat of his shoulders or ruffling the back of his drenched mohawk.

You let out an impressed whistle when he reaches fifty, before scrambling to liberate him. He pretends needing your help to stand up, and you give him your hands without hesitation. Once he's up, you affectionately shove his shirt into his naked torso, an implicit command to make himself proper.

Following his dressing, you two stare into each others' eyes, hands in hands, like lovebirds until his stomach roars like thunder.

You giggle; he sighs exaggeratedly, suddenly bowed down by an invisible weight, like he wasn’t overflowing with energy a minute ago.

“M starvin’. Tae death.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed.”

He starts walking towards the canteen's building, after a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows and his eyes motionning between you and the coveted reserve of food in a silent but strong proposition. You purposely let him take the lead so you can sneak behind him and grab a generous handful of his ass.

He turns his head towards you with mock outrage on his face, a hand pressed on chest, quickly replaced by appreciation.

“Been itching to do that all day,” you confess with an impish smile.

Walking side by side, you start happily humming, and just as you let your hand drop, he seizes it and puts it back on his buttock.

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amethystamanda · 4 months ago

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Basin Shower

This is a 'shower' to match my Pitcher and Basin Set. Your sims will be able to wash themselves without waiting for their weekly bath or for their 6 siblings to be done in the tub.

It's a bit tricky to place. The basin has nothing to do with the placement except that it's the part you hold. You can put the basin on the other side of the wall if you go too close, so if it vanishes, check there. The important spot is invisible once it's placed--you NEED the spot in front of the basin and to the immediate left clear, or your sim won't be able to reach it.

Clutter the basin up as much as you like, including putting things inside the basin. These all work in game.

I don't recommend the last one, but it will work.

It's designed to work with the dresser from Cottage Living. It floats a TINY bit on counters, but you won't see that unless you're at eye level with the counter. You can use move objects to raise it if you're willing to ignore your sims floating when using it, although there is a limit to how high it can go before sims can't reach it. If you want to put it on something lower, you can make that thing bigger or put something on top of it. You can place it using move objects onto things it doesn't want to go on, but if that thing is functional, you shouldn't because it can cause routing issues for that thing--not for the basin though, as far as I can tell.

It does NOT go into slots. Don't be surprised if a sim puts a toy or a dirty dish inside if you place it in the same place a slot exists. You may want to fill slots first and then place somewhere that has no slots it if that concerns you.

It comes in the same 8 swatches as the basins from the original set, which match the multitude of swatches for the pitchers.

Everything is properly tagged for the base colour. It should be off-the-grid compatible. I say should, because these (and the sink from the first set) are my first OTG items, and while they're based on in-game OTG items, OTG is tricky to get to stick.

152 polys. Costs 100 simoleons.

Important info:

Leave the space in front of and to the immediate left of that clear! That's where the 'shower' is.

There is no water effect, because that would mean water falling from mid-air.

There is no soap, because that goes with the water, unfortunately.

Can break, but will not visibly break. That also goes with the water.

Can get dirty, but just like the sink, it will not get visibly dirty. I had to choose between transparent or solid water, and transparent won. Visible dirt was with the solid water.

Sims can do everything that they can with a normal shower, including shaving if you have high school years, EXCEPT woohoo.

This has custom tuning. That makes it slightly more likely to break in a patch. If it does, I may not notice if I'm not actively using it in my game at the time. PLEASE let me know if you're using it and it breaks.

It does not have custom animations. Sims will act as if water's falling on them. Not so noticeable if you play with the game's mosaic, but if you play with the mosaic removed, it may look odd. I am not an animator, so it is what it is.

The water does not move. With the sink, I was able to move things around and make the surface move a bit when in use. When I tried that with the shower, there was water falling out of the cabinet underneath.

CC in the pics:

Walls by @peacemaker-ic https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/post/152462832529/i-only-make-walls-when-i-am-in-the-mood-or

Lamp by @vampireloreskill, updated by @jewishsimming https://jewishsimming.tumblr.com/post/657737836277252096/historical-buildbuy-objects-made-off-the-grid-hey

Hair by @simstrouble https://simstrouble.tumblr.com/post/676540331899109376/elena-by-simstrouble-named-after-my-sweet-mama

Pitcher by me, from the set linked at the top

Download: http://simfileshare.net/folder/222894/

#my cc #sims 4 mods #sims 4 cc #ts4cc #ts4 #build buy cc #decades cc #sims 4 historical cc #sims 4 showers #18th century #19th century #1890s #1900s #1910s #later depending on where you lived

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lil-binuu · 2 months ago

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𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀

based on an ask from @peppymintdreams for a shirtless reader

570 words

WARNING: SPICE ‼️ so if you’re a youngster to read at ur own risk

sorry peppy for taking so long with this request 😔 i kinda went off plot (as you can tell lol) and then had to rewrite part of it

[gender neutral reader]

[reader wearing a see through shirt]

It was safe to say Elias had a passion for you. Being around you, he couldn't help but want to show you some love - especially if you were dressed up nice for him... but what about not dressing up enough?

You can probably imagine Elias's reaction to seeing you like that.

When you walked downstairs, Elias was caught in surprise, his eyes wide and a soft smirk creeping up the corner of his lips.

And he wasn’t shy about staring. This man’s eyes were glued to you. As hard as you tried to pretend you didn’t notice, it was difficult when he made it so obvious.

Oh well, he’ll just have to watch. You didn’t mind.

You started with the dishes, turning the tap on high, ‘unintentionally’ letting the water splash on you as you rinsed dishes under.

Elias couldn’t help but lean forward from on the couch, curious as to what you were doing.

“Baby?”

Elias came up from behind you, swooping his arms around you, almost trapping you against the sink.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm? The dishes?”

He chuckled.

“I can see that, but that's not what I meant.”

You continued to pick up dishes from next to the sink, squeezing out soap and scrubbing them with the water splashing onto your chest.

“Well what did you mean?”

Elias leaned closer into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna know why all of a sudden you’re doing dishes-“

“Trying to be helpful.” You cut in, playfully.

“- and you’re getting water all over yourself.”

“I can’t help it if I’m messy…”

You trailed off as you watched his arm reach forward to turn the tap on full.

You felt your face heat up.

“Go on.” Elias urged, testing how far you were willing to go.

You continued what you were doing, taking a plate, using soap, giving it a scrub and rinsing it under the tap.

You couldn’t help but gasp when the icy cold water splashed against your skin.

Elias tutted, moving away to pick up a kitchen towel.

He turned the tap off, guiding you to turn around and face him.

He took the towel over your arms and across your now transparent shirt, drenched from the water, purposefully paying attention to your chest area.

“What were you trying to achieve with that, huh baby?”

You bit the inside of your lip.

“Nothing.” You said innocently.

“'Nothing'?” Elias echoed, stroking a finger all the way from your waist up, up, up.

“What’s this then?” He whispered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You teased, smiling to yourself.

"mm.. I think you do, baby."

You shook your head, feeling the butterflies in your stomach grow.

“Then how about I show you?”

Elias kissed from behind your neck, down to your collarbone. His hands stopped at the hem of your shirt, pulling his face away to quickly pull it over your head.

His lips attached back onto your damp skin.

You gasped out at the feeling, your hands falling onto his head, tugging gently at his hair.

His lips were hot on your skin, sucking purple and red marks all over.

He groaned softly at the tugs on his hair, running his hands up and down your body.

“You were trying to tease me, weren’t you?”

He whispered, looking into your eyes.

You nodded, slightly embarrassed.

He smirked. “It worked.”

YALL I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT DEMON POSSED ME TO WRITE THIS 🫢

not even joking if someone finds this i will drown myself in that sink water.

#barista was feelin a little cheeky 😫#feel free to request anything (it will take me months to write 😖)#zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuva elias #elias x reader #zsakuvafandom #hope you enjoyed!#writing #elias hmu #fanfic #elias zsakuva #spicy fic

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captainaikus · 2 years ago

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I love your work so much and it has been like 2 hours since i discovered it aghhh ><

(Nsfw) ik you're on hiatus but just a quick idea(thought it was cool sorry TT). Itoshi rin as a butler and the reader as royalty, reader initiates things by teasing rin but rin rejects because of their differneces in class but eventually give in and lets out his inner yandere 🙏 they have sex secretly with rin degrading reader for being such a whore even though shes royality🤦‍♀️ (you can write it in any way you want ill be satisfied anyways) please ignore if you dont like it im not trying to force you to write this 🙏 love you hope everything's fine!

tysm doll 💜 i'm glad you enjoy my works :p

wc : 1.0k, not proofread.

warnings : dark themes, mentions of nudity, rin has a temper, degradation, mentions of sadness, y/n having a break down, fingering, mentions of alcohol and use of poison, intended for murder. based in victorian period.

Rin is the butler of the house and has been your childhood friend. Considers himself to be distinct from you, he makes his bed on mornings, getting into his suit. Over the years it was the same routine, making your bed, telling you your schedule for the day, reminding you to dab the corner of your mouth when you ate something, giving you a glare when you picked up the wrong fork or when you were crass, even telling you to sit up straight when you slouched.

He is a strict disciplinarian, going harsh and hard on you, sometimes even pushing you to the verge of tears yet he was also the shoulder you cried on certain nights, finding solace in his stiff posture, not daring to touch you. He knew the two of you couldn't be in the same world. You were the princess while he was your butler. A gentle hand like yours wouldn't want his scarred one, he would think, staring into his glass of wine on the kitchen counter. little did he know that you liked him and had found adoration for him over the years.

Just when Rin couldn't seem to shake you out of his head, things got worse. Your bed was messy than usual - taking him hours to spread it over. Your behavior became more crass and you became more defiant, shooting back at him.

the last straw was when you demanded that he bathe you, extending a foot towards him, your breasts covered with the milkiness of the soaped water in the large bath, the sunlight reflecting off your skin making you look tempting to man. "Go on. Clean me, Rin." you tempted, waving your foot of at him.

Throwing the sponge on the ground, he had had enough, getting into the water with you, his shirt becoming soaked and transparent. Holding you by the throat, he leans in menacingly towards you. "I can tolerate having to do chores. But what I won't tolerate is you disrespecting me. Try that again and I'll make sure that you are punished. I might be a mere butler, but remember. I know you like the back of my hand and these years of experience have given me enough knowledge about you. The next time you disrespect me, I will make sure to take you over my fucking knee. Are we clear about that princess?"

You don't talk to him for weeks, while he adjusts to you until he was in the courtroom, summoned by your mother the queen. "Make sure that she fits into the finest of gowns you can find and that she attends to the tailor to have her measurements taken." she commanded. "She has to impress her suitors." The dreaded instance. You were in your early twenties, bound to be married. He was upset that night, going to town once the sun went down to drown his sorrows in his glasses of wine for he hated beer. As the week passed by, he noticed instances of your courtship with the prince of a neighboring kingdom whose name and face he did not bother to remember.

It wasn't until one bold night he couldn't hold it in anymore, watching you give him lust and desired filled glances despite the fiancé of your parents choosing giving you attention with lavish gifts. He came to your chambers that night demanding answers.

"You just love pushing my buttons, don't you princess. What kind of a whorish upbringing did you even have to start behaving like this?" he taunted you as he thrust two fingers into your soaking wet cunt. "Do you just love seducing men and then not giving them what they want? Do enjoy torturing me?" He watched as you turned your head from side to side, refusing to meet his eyes. "Can't even see me. Aren't you even the least bit ashamed of yourself?" he prodded further. You refused to answer, your lips sealed.

Getting on top of you, he grinds his knee into your pussy, making you moan, his hands firmly holding yours above your head.

"Tell me princess, do you like driving a man to the verge of insanity ? Making him watch you with your future husband yet letting him fuck you in this bed ? Just how low has your dignity fallen princess? You're not even worth a common whore, in fact you're worse." he sneered, gathering your hands into his wrist whilst the other was holding the flesh of your thigh. "What other choice do I have?! My parents want me to marry someone of royal stature, yet they care less about me. You've seen how ruthless my kin can be, marrying off my sisters to gain more lands. You think I'm happy ?! huh?! Do you ?!" you cry. He felt nothing more than to make your anguish disappear. Words of love were exchanged that night. "I'm here." "I'm not leaving you." The usual gruff and strict disciplinarian of a butler had turned into a lover, giving you words of affirmation with every thrust, moaning into your ear and kissing every part of your body that his lips could reach, losing his sanity over and over again as your drew him into your warm welcoming arms. The thought of you being with someone else being pushed into the back of his mind replaced with how good you were clenching around him while your nails drew lines down his back, his hand swiping at your clit to give you your release. Lying in the same bed with you he kissed your forehead while his hand pet your hair a sign of a short goodbye as he was to leave early the next morning.

He watched as you pretended to be interested in the talks your fiancé was giving, with the occasional smile you gave him along with a playful tap. Looking into the tray of wines, he knew the prince's glass, slipping a poison into it. You would weep perhaps from shock and sadness over the loss of a life. But in the end,

you would always turn to his shoulder for solace just as you had in good old days.

#belle.☏#.lost sheep : anon #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader smut #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #bllk x reader smut #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #yandere blue lock

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seraphimcollections · 2 years ago

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Gentle Giant | Konig x Medic!reader | ch.1

summary: You are a medic. You shouldn't be here, but a series of unfortunate events have you on the run, but from whom? And to whom?

warnings: typical depictions of violence from cod, medical inaccuracies, eventual smut (not in this chapter, patience loves), implications of smut, more than slight size kink.

words: 2.5

author's note: alright. i caved. they got me hook, line and sinker. i had waaay too much fun writing this, makes me excited for what's to come ;) There's no use of y/n but it is written in second person. OH! For the translations, if you're reading on your phone, you can select and then translate :)))

| masterlist |

The whirring of the helicopter blades echoed in your ears as you hopped down, landing in a crouch on the tarmac next to Sergeant Soap, Lieutenant Ghost and Captain Price. You shifted the heavy pack on her shoulders as you approached the two soldiers standing a few meters away ready to welcome Squad 141. There was a woman, only slightly taller than you smirking as you all approached, her hands behind her back. Your eyes slide up, higher, to the behemoth standing next to her. Your nerves went on high alert, seeing that not only was this man simply massive, bordering on seven feet, but he hid his face away under a dark hood, with only two holes for him to see through.

“Captain Price, Squad 141, welcome!” Roze said, holding out her hand for Price to shake.

“Thanks for having us!” Price shouted over the heli. “On behalf of the 141, we’re happy to have KorTac on our side!”

Roze smirked, “we happen to share a common enemy, one we hope to eliminate as soon as possible.” Captain waved his hand to his subordinates, “this is part of my team. Sergeant John “Soap” McTavish, sniper and bomb specialist. Lieutenant Ghost, sabotage, and our field medic, Y/N L/N.”

Roze smirked, “good thing you brought another medic with you, his guy always finds a way to hurt himself.”

Roze nudged the silent man, causing him to lose his composure for a moment. You looked up into his eyes, finding them to be purest of greens, along with the nervous anxiety behind them. ‘He’s nervous, this big guy?’ you thought. Your dissecting gaze wanders across his body, noting his nervous ticks until narrowing down on the poorly wrapped wound on his left hand. You cocked her head to the side with a frown.

“You’re bleeding,” you noted matter-of-factly, pointing to his hand.

The man straightened, hiding his wounded hand behind his back, avoiding your gaze.

“I-It’s fine,” he said, his voice deep and rumbly but riddled with an accent.

You cocked a brow and with a sigh, you approached the soldier, slapping him on the shoulder, having to fully extend your arm in order to reach.

“Let’s go get that checked out soldier, can't you catch tetanus before the big mission,” you said, trying to sound firm.

Konig looked down at Roze in shock, before turning to follow you, even though you had no idea where you were going in his foreign base.

The group watched the duo disappear into the building, Price with a permanent frown.

“You sure it’s a good idea having that guy on this?” He said skeptically.

Roze’s expression became serious, “he’s one of the best -- his methods may be a bit unorthodox, but he gets the job done.”

“Yea, we heard of his methods,” Price said, “and know that we’ll be keeping a close eye on ‘im.”

“We’ve heard our own rumors, Captain,” Roze’s gaze became serious. “Rumors that you’re harboring some precious cargo. Something that can’t make it into the enemy's hands.”

Price frowned, “rumors aren’t word.”

“I’m just saying, if KorTac and the 141 are going to be working together, transparency is only fair,” Roze said.

Price crossed his arms with a small smirk, “that’s need to know, Sergeant.”

→

König pushed open the door into the infirmary office, away from the row of beds that lay empty. He stepped aside, allowing you entry first, his posture rigid. You walked past, dropping your pack by the desk with a heavy sigh. You rolled one of the chairs over, plopping down into it before rummaging through your pack. Your eyes cast over to the door, finding the hooded man had not even crossed the threshold.

“Hey big guy,” you called with a smile, “can’t fix your hand from the door.”

You could almost see the man thinking before finally entering the room, having to duck his head under the entrance. He still kept his distance, so you pulled the second chair across from you before patting the seat.

“Take a seat,” you said, your voice calming. “I promise I won't bite.”

The man didn’t move for another second, before finally conceding and sat across from you, his knees curled underneath him. You continued to prep your utensils, grabbing rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and gauze. Finally looking up at the man, you held up your palm with a small smile, wordlessly asking for his wound. The hooded man held open his hand, revealing the bloody gauze poorly wrapped around his palm. His hand alone dwarfed yours and for a moment, you pitied the man who was caught in between them.

You carefully began your work, your gaze trained at the messy work. König watched you carefully, his eyes lifting from your hands to your eyes, and then back again. He was shocked at your gentleness, it felt like a small bird jumping around in his palm.

“Sie sind kein großer Redner, oder?” You said, never taking your gaze from his palm.

König felt his spine stiffen as his eyes widened in shock. He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

“Sie können Deutsch?” he said.

You did well to hide your shock from the man’s deep voice, rumbling deep within his wide chest. You nodded nonetheless.

“Ich war eine Zeit lang in Berlin stationiert…picked up a few things,” you smiled.

König cursed himself for getting so excited over a little German, but for some reason…it sounded sweeter coming from your lips. The temperature rose from under his mask.

“They call me Wren.” You dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball on the cut. “Don’t ask me why, because I don’t even know. What do they call you?”

Wren…like the bird. It’s…fitting, Konig smiled underneath his hood.

“König,” he answered.

You nodded with a smile, “king. I can see it.”

Your gaze lifted up to the few scars peeking up from under the man’s long sleeve. They were small, most likely superficial.

“You suffer from anxiety, don’t you?” You frowned, seeing the man squirm under your gaze. “I can tell, you pick at your scabs when you heal, that’s why they scar.”

König stumbled over his words, “I-I-”

You smiled, patting him on the soldier, “it’s alright, I’ve seen it before. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

König gaze stayed pinned on your small hand on his shoulder, feeling his skin becoming uncomfortably hot. Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, your hand returning to wrapping his hand up properly this time. You were finished in no time, quicker than König would have hoped. You grinned, placing your hands on your knees, admiring your work.

“All finished,” you said, “the wound didn’t go too deep but I’ll prescribe you some antibiotics to help with the swelling. If you need some painkillers don’t hesitate to ask.”

König nodded, standing to his feet, “thank you, Wren.”

You nodded your head, “anytime, but maybe not all the time. If you were in here all the time, I think I’ll get a little worried.”

König felt his heart skip a beat. Worried? About him? No one worried about him. He broke eye contact, desperately taking his leave, lowering his head as he left the office, leaving you to your own devices. You listened as he left into the hall, his heavy footsteps fading away until nothing. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, swinging to face your desk. The man was no less than intimidating with his tear-streaked hood. You were almost positive that his enemies saw that hood in their nightmares, and you prayed to whatever god that you wouldn’t succumb to that punishment.

“Well, better get to work.”

→

You had finished unpacking all of your medical supplies in the very barren infirmary, deciding to do some sprucing up around the beds, even opening up a few of the curtains to let in the fading sunlight. The infirmary seemed like it was almost abandoned, making you wonder if KorTac even had a resident medic to begin with.

“Well that would explain the poorly treated cut,” you grumbled, folding one of the sheets before placing it on the cot.

You head turned hearing a knock on the door frame, seeing Soap standing at the threshold.

“‘Bout time you got in,” you smiled.

“Not my fault, Gaz got the coordinates wrong,” Soap smirked.

“I highly doubt our Gaz had anything to do with it,” you snorted. “How can I help you, McTavish?”

You watched his expression become a bit more serious, which was a rare feat from the Scot. He leaned against the frame, his arms crossed.

“Wanted to check in on ya, lass. See how you’re holding up,” he said.

You frowned, before picking up another blanket to fold to distract yourself.

“I’m fine, as fine as one could be in my situation,” you sighed.

“It’s okay not to be,” Soap approached. “No one would blame you.”

“Oh,” anger bubbled in your gut, “but I do.”

“Wren-”

“If I had just stayed put,” you nearly whispered, eyes screwed shut, “hell, even closed my fucking eyes, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It’s your fault, Wren,” Soap said sternly. “It couldn’t have been prevented. It was just…wrong place, bad timing.”

You scoffed, a sad smile on your lips, happy your back was turned to your comrade so he couldn’t see the tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah. Bad timing.”

Soap frowned, “listen, grub’s at 1800 hours. Price doesn’t feel really comfortable having to move around this big base on your own, so he’ll send someone for you.”

Hearing this you whirred around, your brow furrowed, “now I need a babysitter?”

Soap scratched his nape, “not my orders, Wren.”

You felt your shoulder slump in defeat. Soap puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle shake.

“Don’t worry, things will be back to normal in no time, you’ll see,” he said with a hopeful smile.

All you could do was nod, “and what about my sleeping quarters?”

“König will take you,” Soap waved, “big fella practically volunteered.”

Your ears perked at the mention of the tall Austrian.

“Just…be careful around ‘im? The man gives me the heebie jeebies,” Soap grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed the thought.

From the short time you sat with the man, he seemed to have not a bad bone in his body. But of course, there had to be, or else he wouldn’t be here. Again, at the thought of the behemoth, you thanked him for being on your team. He volunteered? You felt like a giddy school girl, but you quickly squash such feelings, busying yourself back into fixing up the infirmary.

→

The sunlight had all but faded from the windows as you sat back at your desk, typing away at some files you needed to catch up on. Files weren’t the only thing to catch up on. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good night’s sleep. You tried at first, but the nights dissolved into restless turning, riddled with nightmares. What you saw that day replaying over and over again behind your eyelids. Eventually it was just easier to just stay awake.

Your exhaustion was more than evident on your face. Dark bags underneath your eyes, your complexion paler than normal. It definitely had caught the attention of the others, Price sending you a pitying look now and then, ordering you to take a break. But you couldn’t. Work was the only thing that took your mind off things. Whether it be the gym, the range, or any meaningless task, you needed them all. You wished for things to go back to normal, the days where you could laugh wholeheartedly when Soap and Ghost would compete to see who had the worst jokes. You missed betting with Gaz at the range, missed being able to take a shower without the worry of someone waiting to take you out, standing just behind the curtain.

You let out a yelp hearing a gentle knock on the door, your head whipping around to see König standing within it, his head lowered.

“I’m sorry,” his watery gaze never wavered from yours, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You raised a hand to your chest, willing your breathing to slow before smiling up at him.

“For a big guy, you sure have light feet,” you laughed, sliding your glasses from the bridge of your nose. “Is it grub time already?”

König shook his head, “not quite. I wanted to show you to your room before then.”

You nodded, standing and picking up your pack, that was much lighter than before, thankfully.

“Sounds like a plan, lead the way,” you gestured.

You followed König down the hall, fighting off the exhaustion that made your head fuzzy. You walked on, turning corner after corner, hardly coming by anyone until finally König stopped in front of a door, stepping aside. You nodded in thanks, stepping inside. The room was bare bones, to be expected, only having a single bed and a desk. You threw your pack on the desk, stretching your arms over your head, some of your bones cracking causing you to let out a small whimper.

König felt his mouth go dry hearing you. He couldn’t stop when he mind quickly went somewhere it shouldn’t have been. Thoughts of you trapped underneath his hulking body, dragging more whimpers, louder ones. König choked on his saliva, catching your doe like eyes to his.

“Something wrong?” You asked.

König shook his head, holding up his palms, “a-ah, nothing! I’ll be out here once you’re ready.”

With that, König left the room, closing the door behind him. You smiled, shaking your head. You peeled off your armor, piece by piece. Finally you completely stripped down, letting out a groan at the long awaited freedom. You looked over your body, feeling over the scattered scars, big and small. You let out a sigh, digging out another set of clothes, something you could be a little more comfortable in.

You placed your glasses back on the desk, before turning to open the door. Konig stood against the wall, his arms folded behind his back as if he were a guard. Well, for all intended purposes, he was. Konig turned to you, wrapping up your hair into a messy bun, looking up at him.

“Ready, König?”

The man felt his chest tighten as you looked up at him. Have you always been this small? Compared to him you were tiny, like a-

“Maus,” the word slipped past his lips before he could even stop it.

König could feel his face become hot as he instantly took his gaze off your shocked expression, trying to find the words to make an excuse. Anything, any excuse.

“Mouse?” You said with a teasing smile, leaning over to look up into his eyes. “Hm, I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” König said, not daring to look you in the eye.

You chuckled, patting the poor man on the shoulder.

“It’s alright, not offended at all, Bär.”

You brushed past him, looking over your shoulder at him.

“As long as we can keep it between us,” your eyes squinted as you smiled, “gotta make sure these idiots stay in line somehow, right?”

König felt his chest swell and you could see his eyes squint, telling you there was a smile underneath the threatening hood. “Natürlich Maus.”

Want to be on the tag list? Leave a comment! Thanks for reading!

#konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig #cod modern warfare #konig smut #konig x you #ghost #soap #gaz #price #cod fanfic #seraphim collections: gentle giant

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plumbobpaparazzi · 11 months ago

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Adding one more to my never-ending list of WIPs. Making some recolors of the call box converted by @simdertalia (from the same post as the soap dispenser) Cleaned and cleared up the textures, then added transparency to the mesh so the area behind the buttons can have a fun pattern or something. Still need to fine tweak the base texture, add a normal map, and edit the specular... but it's a good start.

#projects

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sopiao · 1 year ago

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ERRRRM GHOST MEETING SINGER!READER AT THIS OLD BAR OR FANCY LIL DINER.

hear me out.

the reader does dress kinda fem, but it’s still they/them. :3 ANYWAYS

It was routine for the team to get a drink after every mission. To unwind, relax, and get everything out of their system to get back to themselves again before going back to base.

The mission took place a little far from home so they couldn’t go to their usual pub. Either way, Soap recommended— well, insisted— that they go to this new bar he wanted to check out.

Upon entering, the whole mood was so warm and fluid. It was dimmed down, almost completely dark if it wasn’t for the low lighting of the bar and the bright spotlight of the small stage up front. There were tables littered with people that just stared and listened in awe, there were some low chattering and conversations throughout.

Taking a row of seats at the side bar, they all began to talk and ramble about the mission or how much they’re looking forward to getting back home to their partners/pets. Keeping it not too loud of course to be respectful to the performers. But for some reason, Ghost couldn’t bring himself to focus on the conversation or contribute, not like he contributes much.

His attention was always drawn back to the performance. Brown eyes just stared in a relaxed daze at the singer, weightlessly sitting at the edge of the piano. The pianist staring up at them with a cig hanging from his lip.

Almost like it was his last time seeing ever, Ghost took in every little detail of you. Black satin slip dress with a slit on the left leg, transparent stockings— if you look close enough you can see the subtle shine of glitter in them— black heels, a string of pearls lining your neck.

Leaning back against the bar, shoulders open and elbows resting on the wooden surface. The lieutenant entirely discarding the conversation and gave all of his attention to you. The band’s music was so soothing and fresh, enhancing how enchanting your performance was.

Somehow, feeling himself get sleepy, more relaxed and comfortable. Listening to you cover an Eartha Kitt song. After a couple minutes, the rest of the team realized how quiet and unresponsive their lieutenant was. Staring at him then back at each other.

From then on out, Ghost started coming more by frequently. At first it was once every two weeks, or so. He insisted it was because he needed to decompress. Then it was once a week, which turned to twice, then almost every day.

He’d come in, sit at the same spot on the bar, and order the exact same drink. He’d note and notice your different dresses and outfits, how you’d style your hair, how different you’d do your makeup, what song you sang, how passionate you were when you did.

His favorite part was listening to you talk and ramble about your life on mic to the audience or band after your performances when it got late.

And you’d notice him as well. The mysterious masked man that’d watch you during your night performances. Always too nervous to look at his direction, let alone eye contact.

Ghost made the first move. Not really a first move, but a way to show his adoration for you. When the bartender delivered a drink for you given by a kind stranger, you immediately knew it was him. He was the first person you looked at, and he was looking back.

(Y’all should listen and check out Eartha Kitt CUZ OMG)

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m00nxghost · 1 year ago

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Bakery love- Kyle Gaz Garrick x F!Reader; part one

My first fanfic! I'm totally excited to write this 🥧🌷

Tw: Swearing,mention of past abusive relationships,violence,rest is pure fluffiness,lovely topics

Kinds of O.O.C,She/her pronouns, use of you and y/n, enjoy! Just imagine yourself in this fic

The morning was more beautiful than yesterday, a beautiful blue sky without clouds and a radiant sun a great day to buy fresh bread but at that time the bakeries haven't opened yet except for one,a bakery with pastel lavender tones, transparent windows with lilies and lavender in clay pots,there were two tables outside with checkered tablecloths in pastel pink and white colors with little clay pots inside containing red roses with a soft scent that's what Gaz thought, a beautiful bakery, he didn't think twice before walking in the door and the bell rang The smell of fresh bread spread throughout the bakery, he took a good look inside, it was white with tables spread out like those outside. While Gaz looked at the bakery enchanted, he didn't notice that the bakery owner was approaching the counter.

Y/n: Hello welcome

gaz turned around looking at a young woman with a white apron with a lavender drawing on it

Gaz: Oh! Good morning, Gaz said, approaching the counter, taking a look at the fresh batch of bread on the bread shelf, while the counter display had pies and cakes and all types of pastries.

Gaz: Well, I'll have some fresh bread and a piece of strawberry pie.

The girl looked at him with a soft smile and said, of course, as she walked over to the bread rack behind the counter

Gaz waited calmly while she packed his order. He took another look at the bakery he felt like he was in heaven. She came back with the order in a bag, not plastic but paper, a very well decorated bag that was written "Sweet lavender bakery"

Gaz walked out of the bakery and couldn't contain a small smile and his face flushed as he walked back to base, his day was made totally happy with his discovery, he promised that whenever he could he would stop by for a coffee or buy a pie. On the way to the base. Gaz was totally feeling lighter when he entered and went straight to the break room whistling and greeting the recruits and other soldiers along the way.

Soap: Mornin' Gaz, how are you? Looks like you woke up well!

Gaz: Ah yes, it's just been a great morning, I haven't seen such good weather in a while, "he says as he puts the paper bag on the table

Soap: What good did you bring? fresh breads

Gaz: Yes, fresh bread and a strawberry pie

Soap: I thought that's when the bakeries opened or you made the bread and the pie the Scot laughed softly

Gaz: playfully rolling his eyes, a new bakery opened close to the city center not far away, as it was the only one open I went to check it out. It's well-groomed and has the owner, I never thought I'd see someone so…

someone so…

Soap: Pretty,cute,nice

Gaz: a kind and calm person

Soap: And pretty!

Soap: Dae yer found a pretty lass?

Gaz: Okay, soap stop for now

Soap: Don't be like that, Gaz. She probably likes you!

Gaz: I don't know, I just met her! That's not how it works, but I wanted it. The day passed and gaz couldn't get her out of his head, ending the day gaz looked at the pie and decided to eat a piece savoring the soft strawberry flavor remembering the girl, when he forgot to ask her name damn because it was something easy but tomorrow I'll do it he said to himself as he ate pie. When Gaz realized he fell in love with the girl but he was happy, excited and anxious about these feelings, he would dream about her as he smiled and finished the pie. The next day he woke up early and got up, thinking step by step how to approach the beautiful girl and ask her name and then her number but with a little anxiety he thought well but he is determined and nothing will stop him. Gaz left his tidy room and walked down the hallway saying good morning to whoever passed by, Price noticed how the young boy looked and raised an eyebrow, wondering why he looked like that

Price: Is everything ok with Gaz? he seems to be excited

Soap: Yes, he's fine, he's just in love

Price: In love with who? with one of the girls here at the base

Soap: No captain, he's in love with a bakery owner, a lass,yesterday he went to her bakery, and it looks like Cupid shot him with the arrow of love

Price: Smirks So Kyle is in love, I never thought that would happen despite him being a good guy, but will he be able to confess? I'm rooting for him and that he gets at least the girl's number

Soap: Same, he's a good friend I'm rooting for him too

After a while gaz arrives at the bakery and goes in but didn't expect the following scene: the girl was at the counter with her arms covering her face as she sobbed gaz's heart tightened as he approached the girl and with his soft voice speaking in a whisper Miss, are you okay? There was no response as he gently touched her arm making her lift her head.

Y/n: S-sorry I didn't see you come in she was trying to wipe her tears but with shaking hands and a scared voice I-I-can I make your order ?

Gaz: Look, I don't know you but by the look on your face, you're not feeling well, my order doesn't matter much now but you do

Y/n: Are you sure? I'm sure you're busy and I don't want to bother you with that

Gaz: Yes I'm sure, now let's take you out for some fresh air with a glass of ice water

Y/n: Thank you very much, seriously I will owe you this until the end of time

Gaz: No, you don't owe me this, but now tell me why you were crying,something happened? someone hurt you or did something for you? His voice carried a tone of concern.

Y/n: Well my ex boyfriend came here with the same bullshit that he has changed and that he is ready to restart our old relationship but I know it's a lie when I said I would never fall for his trick again...he grabbed my arm tightly. He tried to hurt me but I managed to pull my arm and throw him away I never thought I would see him again you said in a shaky voice

Gaz: I'm sorry I hope you're better now

Y/n: Yes, I'm thanks to you, seriously, you calmed me down, look, because of that you can choose anything from the bakery and you don't have to pay anything

Gaz: No need, I'm glad you're better now

Y/n: Please don't refuse, it's a thank you and a small treat for my first client You said with a soft laugh. After that gaz left there completely happy he didn't imagine this would happen. On his way he met Soap who was smiling because Soap heard everything.

End of the first part of "Bakery love" I'm still going to write the second part! I'm still going to improve it and sorry for the mistakes, I'll improve that too

A/N: I ended up being carried away by the writing that I didn't even think would be long but I'm totally happy about it <33

Tag list !! @spicyspicyliving @kkaaaagt @puff0o0

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x you #cod x female reader #114 x reader #cod writer #call of duty writer

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frillyfacefins · 1 year ago

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Fun-Filled Fizzie Fucking - Chapter 4

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ozzie/Fizzarolli Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Drugged Sex, long elaborate smut in multiple chapters, Heavy BDSM, BondageOther Additional Tags to Be Added, Weed Brownies, no beta we‘re already in hell, Food Play, not really food kink this time though, nausea play in second chapter but it‘s completely skippable, kind of bad bdsm etiquette, ozzie tries his best but fizzy is still fizzy, Rimming, Showers, Dirty Talk, So Much Dirty Talk Additional Tags for Chapter 4: Fucking Machines, Dom/sub, Subdrop, only beginning though they catch it before it goes too far, Gags, Bratting, Sex Toys, Daddy Dom Ozzie, Bratty Sub Fizzarolli Word Count Chapter 4: 4,796

Also on AO3

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3

Summary:

Photoshoots always left Fizz feeling as if somebody had shoved a TENS-unit up his ass and followed it with an espresso enema. ~~~ Fizzarolli comes home high off adrenaline after a big day and gets lovingly brought down by Ozzie with the help of some weed brownies and a new toy Ozzie has been working on…

Well, posting the last chapter of a fic about a pairing that was still a rare-pair when you started/wrote most of it and that is now such a big thing sure is a new experience for me :')

I'm always happy to get nice comments on ao3, but also if you reblog this here I absolutely love that too!

Anyway, here's the last chapter, have fun and mind the new tags!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was immediately cocooned in a gigantic fluffy towel and rubbed down with the same gentle thoroughness Ozzie had used to soap him up earlier. He was already too warm, so the towel made him feel even more stifled, but he accepted the care, especially since he could feel Ozzie walk out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom while he was gently drying his head.

The towel landed on the floor by the bedroom‘s entrance, and so did the shower cap, to be cleaned up by one of the succu-housemaids later. Ozzie, still wet from the shower, nuzzled against Fizz’ forehead for a moment before he put him down on the bed and quickly heated up his own body so the moisture still in his feathers would evaporate. The gust of hot air made Fizz wiggle in a mixture of discomfort and anticipation. The satin sheets only felt pleasantly cool against his skin for a second before his own body heat leeched into them.

“Ozzieeee,” he whined, his eyes glued to his royal lover‘s back. He had walked over to a shelf and was fucking around with something that wasn’t Fizz’s ass and thus obviously completely irrelevant in Fizz’ lust-addled mind. He felt soft, pliant, hot, like a tray of brownies ten minutes out of the oven, and somebody really fucking needed to eat him or he was going to turn to fucking stone.

(The weed having kicked in fully by now didn’t help his already whirling mind come up with decent metaphors, either.)

“Don’t worry baby, daddy’s here,“ Ozzie cooed somewhere to his right as the mattress sagged with his weight. Fizz realized only now that he had closed his eyes, and he opened them just in time to see Ozzie grab his leg before he pulled him into position so he could get to his ass more comfortably. Fizzarolli immediately grabbed his own legs and pulled them open to give Ozzie plenty of access.

He hadn’t seen what Ozzie had grabbed from the shelf, but he wasn‘t surprised to feel a generously lubed finger push into him. Ozzie finger-fucked him for a few delightful moments, then he pulled out and came back with more lube. That repeated another two times, and Fizz was just about to make a stink about how he didn’t need any more lube but he really needed more than a finger, when finally something else was pushing against his entrance. He looked down to see the base of the transparent beaded butt plug with the glitter in it. He frowned as the first two beads slipped into his hyper-slippery hole with hardly even a squelch.

“Ozzie, I swear to fucking Satan, why the fuck is that not your dick?!”

Ozzie winced, but pushed one more bead into him; at least this one, Fizz actually felt. “We talked about this, Fizzlecakes, no other Sin’s names in the bedroom…”

Fizz rolled his eyes and pushed back to make the next bead push into him faster. Oh, yes, that was more like it. Still not as good as Ozzie’s cock would have felt, though.

“Yeah yeah, gonna swear to fucking Bobo the Clown next time, but seriously, Ozzie??”

Ozzie leaned forward and nuzzled against his face. Fizz wanted to stay angry with him, but both the nuzzle and the next bead – this one a little bigger than the size of his own fist – made the addition of anger to his fuzzy mind way too complicated.

“I told you earlier that I’ve got a specific kind of game in mind, right? I need you really, really lose for that, baby.”

Fizz had a fuzzy memory of Ozzie talking about “very specific fun”, but that might as well have been a month ago with how completely unrelated it felt to his current situation.

He still let out a stubborn whine, even though the next bead made him feel nearly full enough to stop the pain of the unbearable vacuum inside of him where Ozzie’s cock should be.

“I know, baby,” Ozzie soothed him as he started to work in the last and biggest bead of the plug – more a ball than a bead, really. “I’m gonna fill you up all nice, then I’m going to put a blindfold on you and get the toy I’ve been working on, alright? And then you’ll get the pounding of your life, I promise.”

“Ozziiieee, that’s gonna take way too looong,” Fizz sobbed, raising his hips hungrily to make the rest of the plug slip in faster. His arms shot out to grab at Ozzie’s fluff and pull him in to just fuck him right now, immediately (not a thought in his head about how much time it would take to pull out the beaded plug again safely).

But Ozzie just let out a few gentle clucks and untangled his robotic hands from his mane as gently as if they had actual fingers that could get hurt if they got stuck.

“Either you’re good now, or daddy’s gonna stick a vibe egg right here,” he pushed at the base of the plug and finally slipped the rest of the last, grapefruit-sized bead in. “And then you’ll lie here and think long and hard about why it would have been better to let daddy stick to his plans instead of being a greedy, impatient little brat…”

Fizz let out a desperate keen, both from the absolutely delicious stretch and the excruciating thought of having to lie here with all of that silicone not only inside of him, but a vibrator making all of those beads judder and torturing his sensitive, hungry hole while it was still not getting fucked…

“So what’s it gonna be, baby?” Ozzie asked, his long, slippery fingers rubbing through his crack up to his tail and giving the sensitive bit of skin right below a firm, nearly punishing massage.

“Gonna be good, big daddy,” Fizz mewled, desperately gasping for air, unable to keep his ass from trying to wriggle away from Ozzie’s fingers on that oversensitive spot. That wriggling of course just made him feel the plug’s tip deep in his guts, punching another overwhelmed gasp out of him.

The touch below his tail stopped.

“That‘s my good Fizzy-frog,” he rumbled, then he leaned forward to nuzzle against Fizz’ cheek. His fingers rubbed up and down his cock twice, in a nearly soothing rhythm, before he finally gave his hip a squeeze and pulled away.

Fizz had thought he had been too hot earlier, but now that Ozzie’s body heat completely retreated, he felt suddenly very, very cold.

“Don‘t leave, Ozzie…” His voice came out weaker than before, hardly more than a whimper.

Ozzie immediately looked up from where he had been taking a blindfold out of the nightstand drawer. He dropped the blindfold on the bed and leaned over Fizzy again, cupping his face gently as he looked him in the eyes.

Fizz felt the cold retreat.

“I just need to be gone for a minute at most, baby,“ Ozzie said, and immediately the dread crept back into Fizz’ chest. It must have also crept onto his face, because Ozzie kissed his cheeks and his forehead and gently ran his hand over his hat. “How about I give you the bubble sheet? You can count the bubbles, and I’ll be back in no time.”

Fizz made a face. His discomfort was pushing him into a slightly different headspace, but at least that made him feel more mopey than, well… alone.

“Okay. Also the chewy-gag,” he said.

“Whatever my Fizzy-baby wants,“ Ozzie cooed, and Fizz was very proud of himself for not just answering that what he really wanted was for Ozzie to just fuck him. He knew that he’d be really glad that he had been patient later, because when Ozzie surprised him with something in the bedroom, it usually ended with Fizz getting both his mind and his back blown out in the most intense and devious way possible. But right now he felt like a mopey baby and he wanted Ozzie to be here, not somewhere that wasn’t here.

Ozzie cooed and kissed him for another few moments, then he got up to get the bubble sheet from Fizz’ fidget toy chest and the custom-made gag with the chewy mouth-bit from the same shelf the butt plug had come from. He sat back down and kissed his face a few more times, then he trailed more kisses down his chest, making Fizz feel all happy and soft again.

Suddenly Ozzie blew a raspberry on his belly and Fizz let out a yell and nearly propelled himself off the bed – which would have been a very dumb thing to do with that gigantic butt plug still inside of him. A good thing, then, that Ozzie was holding onto his legs at the same time so he couldn’t get away.

“Ozzie!!!” Fizz groused, but when he saw the grin on all three of Ozzie’s faces, he absolutely couldn’t be mad at him.

“That’s more like it,” Ozzie said, then he held the chewy pillow-shaped mouth part of the gag against his lips. “Say ah?”

Fizz rolled his eyes and did, indeed, say “Ah!” It was silly, but he did suddenly feel way better, as if he’d been slowly sinking into quicksand and that raspberry had been a cartoon kangaroo grabbing him and pulling him out in one powerful jump. He could still feel his heart beat in his ears when he closed his mouth around the gag and started to suck on it like an oversized binky.

Ozzie led the strap of the gag around behind Fizz’ head and secured it with the quick-release buckle on Fizz’ cheek. He pressed the bubble sheet into his hand, then he laid the padded leather eye-mask they used as blindfold on his face. Fizz could feel warm, large fingertips caress his cheek.

“You good, baby?” Ozzie asked.

Fizz buried his molars in the gag and nodded.

Ozzie gently lifted his head and fastened the velcro of the eye-mask. “See, I knew you could be good.” Fizz felt a kiss on his cheek, between the strap of the gag and the mask, then the fidget toy was put in his hand. A moment later, Ozzie’s weight vanished and his warmth retreated again.

Fizz kept gnawing on the chew toy and tried to map the bubble toy with one hand. He started to push bubbles in one by one, counting them while he did his best to slowly breath through his nose. The gag was making him drool, though it was better than with most ball gags. Fizz liked having gags in his mouth, more than Ozzie liked gagging him, actually (Ozzie generally preferred to hear any noises Fizz would gift him with), but he still had mixed feelings about the drooling. It was awesome when Ozzie’s dick was in his mouth, and drooling while he was getting fucked just added to the general feeling of debauchery, but when he was just waiting with a gag in his mouth, it sometimes did feel unpleasant, unattractive, helpless…

He could have used his hands to wipe the drool away. Ozzie hadn’t tied him down. But he didn’t want to touch the gag with his hands – that wasn’t his place, that was Ozzie’s privilege, the only part of him that got to touch the gag was his mouth. It was Ozzie’s job to clean him up. If Ozzie didn’t want him clean, Fizz wasn’t going to be clean.

That thought helped. Yes, the drool that was drying on his chin still felt unpleasant, but that was okay. Ozzie liked it when he got messy in bed. Ozzie liked the way Fizz looked when he lost control. It was alright. It was just like it was supposed to be.

He kept counting bubbles.

Just when he was finished with the second row, he heard Ozzie come back into the room. There was a noise like something heavy and metal was being put down, then some squeaking and grinding sounds.

The bed dipped, and Ozzie’s hand was back, opening the quick-release of Fizz’ gag.

“See, I’m back already. No time at all, right? Come on, spit that out, baby.”

Fizz opened his mouth wide so Ozzie could get the gag out without getting it caught on his sharp teeth. The blindfold didn’t come off, but Ozzie took the opportunity to push his thumb against Fizz’ tongue and caress his spit-slick cheek with his palm. Fizz sighed through his nose as he closed his lips around Ozzie’s finger and gave it a suckle. He tasted like metal.

He felt Ozzie bend over him, the fluff of his mane tickling his shoulders. Ozzie’s breath was on his face, a strange kind of silence hanging between them that he couldn’t read because he still couldn’t see shit, but then Ozzie pulled his thumb out of Fizz’ mouth and kissed him hard and deep.

Fizz let go of the bubble sheet and wrapped all of his limbs around Ozzie, his arms and legs looping twice around his body, his tail sliding up Ozzie’s arm and clinging to it like a climbing plant. All his apprehension melted in the heat of Ozzie’s body and he gave himself up to his mouth. For a moment he felt he might be able to liquify and seep into Ozzie, fuse with him like one of those creepy deep-sea fish, or like lichen on a tree, so he never had to be anywhere but right where Ozzie was.

Ozzie stood up without breaking the kiss and carried Fizz off the bed and in the direction of the bedroom window. He stopped after just two steps, though, and went down on his knees, as far as Fizz could tell just by feeling his movement.

“Retract,” he ordered, and Fizz immediately did. He completely let go of Ozzie, whose hands were securely cradling his body, and went limp as Ozzie turned him around. “Elbows and knees.”

Fizz let Ozzie put him down on something that felt like leather, very new leather, still a little stiff, but not uncomfortable, exactly the right size for his upper body. His metal limbs, which were hanging off the leather cushion or whatever it was, clinked against something that was also metal, maybe metal rods of some sort. He could feel them move, and then there were restraints, and he felt his limbs getting strapped against the rods. He tried to create a mental image of whatever device he was getting strapped into right now. It felt a lot like a normal spanking bench, though those usually didn’t let his crotch hang as freely as this one. And he’d also usually have his arms and legs bound to the legs of the bench itself, not these rods that were very much adjustable, as he soon figured out when the rods his legs were strapped to moved farther apart, forcing him to spread his thighs. The pressure of the plug inside of him was a little unpleasant now that he was lying on his belly, but it also pushed against his prostate way more insistently now. He squirmed while Ozzie did something that resulted in a few clicking sounds. His impatience was coming back, mixing with slight confusion and burning anticipation until he couldn’t help a pained little whine coming out of him.

There was a big hand on his back now, gently rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. “Are you alright, Fizzy? I need you to stay in this position for a while.”

“Ozzie, please,” Fizz whimpered. He tried to grab that hand with his tail to pull it farther down. “I’ve been so good, can’t you just—“

“Fizz, focus” Ozzie”s voice stopped him. He sounded serious, commanding, hot enough for Fizz’ cock to start dripping again. “I need to know if you can hold this position.”

Fizz took a deep breath and tried to check in with himself. Everything felt so loose and fluffy, more like cotton candy than flesh and bones. He tried to start at the bottom and go up. His hips were alright, bis back too, but…

“Shoulders,” he said.

“Up or down?”

“Down please.”

He could hear Ozzie’s smile in his voice. “Well done, baby.”

The adjustable rods that his arms were strapped to moved a little, pulling his arms down just an inch or so and allowing his shoulders to relax properly. Ozzie’s hand was still between his shoulder blades, feeling for the tension that had been bothering Fizz.

“Better?”

Fizz nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy…” Ozzie’s large hand ran down his back, skimming the base of his tail. “Now that you’re all cozy and loose, let’s get this thing out of you, hm?” He gave the base of the beaded plug a little tug, but instead of just pulling it out right away, Fizz heard him squeeze some more lube onto his fingers, which he immediately started to massage into the skin of Fizz’ stretched rim. Once his skin was slippery enough for Ozzie’s taste, he slowly started to pull out the first bead.

The beaded plug wasn’t quite as bad as regular anal beads, where pulling them out one by one was half the fun of the whole exercise. But it was still intense to feel his hole stretch once again to let that largest bead slip out. The relief that washed over him when it popped out was short-lived, because Ozzie immediately slipped a wet finger into his hole to rub more lube into the tissue just inside of him. Of course he appreciated that Ozzie just really didn‘t want him to tear, but it also made something deep in his loins bubble up. Ozzie was always careful, sure, but if he was being this thorough, it usually meant that something big was coming. This was pre-fisting behavior.

His speculations were interrupted when Ozzie pulled out the next bead, added some more lube, and then went for the next two in quick succession. Fizz’ body was boiling again, his mind by now too sluggish and woozy from the brownies to really concentrate on anything but the beads slipping out of him one by one. The only thought that did make it all the way from his brain into his awareness — a recollection of that time Ozzie had stuffed him with eggs and a good half-gallon of lube and had him squeeze out every single one of them — wasn‘t exactly helpful either.

“There we go,” Ozzie said as the last few beads dropped out of Fizz’ hole without any resistance. Fizz was kind of curious just how big his gape was right now. Judging by the way Ozzie had to use three fingers for him to actually feel any stretch, it had to be massive.

“You have been so good, Froggie baby, so patient…” Ozzie rumbled as he fingered even more lube into his open, waiting hole. “Are you ready to get your reward?”

Fizz nodded frantically and pushed his ass backwards as far as he could with his thighs tied to the metal rods. “Daddy, please,” he whined, though it came out more slurry and wet this time than before. The fingers and the cool lube inside of him made him shiver, and he could feel himself sweat where his upper body was pressed against the leather cushion and drip where his stiff cock was just far enough from that cushion that he could’t hump against it. He felt trapped and hot and as if he was about to fucking explode, too strung-out on both Ozzie’s foreplay and the anticipation of what he was working towards to even continue begging. He was on the brink of something, hanging by a thread, and even though he knew Ozzie had him, would always have him, he didn‘t know how much longer he could hang on.

But Ozzie knew. Ozzie always knew.

There was the noise of more metal parts being adjusted, then something that felt like the tip of a dildo slipped into Fizz’s waiting, open hole.

Fizz was about to break down in tears because that STILL wasn’t Ozzie’s cock. How much longer was he going to do this to him? Hadn’t he said that he had been good, that he was going to get a reward, so why was he still—

But then he heard the flip of a switch and the dildo started to move deeper.

And deeper.

It moved at such a consistent, unwavering speed, not only going deeper but stretching his rim wider and wider, that Fizz nearly started to panic when it kept moving beyond the point the plug had penetrated inside of him and stretched him more than the biggest bead had before. For a second he forgot where he was and who he was and that Ozzie was right beside him and thought that this thing was going to keep moving, that it was going to rip through his guts and into his lungs and his heart and force its way through blood and gore to come out of his mouth as if he was a chicken being roasted on a stick, but then the forward movement stopped, and it started to slowly move back again.

But once again Fizz didn’t have time to feel relieved — because that dildo had some kind of soft barbs at its underside that had been flush with its length when it had pushed in, but which were now dragging against his colon walls and especially his prostate on their way out of him. Fizz’ head snapped up when he felt that, and his mouth dropped open on a silent whimper.

He heard Ozzie’s chuckle when the dildo stopped moving again, just deep enough inside of him for Fizz to still feel it. As the whole process started over, he felt Ozzie’s hand on his shoulder and then on the back of his head. He blinked into the dim light of their bedroom as Ozzie pulled off the eye mask.

Fizz wanted to say something. ‘You’re fucking killing me, Ozz’ maybe, or just a nice long string of ‘fuck’s, but the dildo came back faster this time and even though it did not actually push as far as his lungs, it still took his breath away. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a desperate keen like that of a dying animal when it pulled back again, also faster than before.

“You get why I needed you really, really relaxed, baby?” Ozzie cooed at him, cradling his jaw in one hand so he could push his chin up and see every tiny expression of his. His eyes looked like two thin slits of neon light in the deep blue of his face. The dildo started to move into him once more, again a little faster, but Fizz still had just enough of his mental capacity left to notice that Ozzie was breathing harder, too. A deep shiver ran through his body, a touch of lightning that warred with the expanding, boiling lust inside of him for just a second before the two merged. Ozzie was feeding off him, sharing his lust without any more of a touch than the finger under his chin. Fizz could see his hard cock from the corner of his eye and his mouth watered just before the dildo pulled back again and sent him into a new wave of ecstasy.

The movements of the dildo got faster and faster, and his mind was soon completely filled with the electric storm of an incredible fuck after thorough, torturous foreplay. But even as he started to moan and sob with every in- and out-movement, the scent of Ozzie’s arousal this close to him didn’t allow him to just completely let go.

“Ozzie,” he managed to push out around a low sob while the dildo’s soft barbs combed his insides, “fuck my — oh fuck!” He didn‘t manage to get all of it out, because the dildo was coming back and by now the thrusting was so fucking fast, just punching into him and pulling out, punching in, pulling out, faster and faster and faster…

There was no way he was going to be able to tell Ozzie what he wanted from him. So he just opened his mouth, let his tongue hang out and stared up at Ozzie through a veil of overwhelmed tears.

With his mouth open like this, Fizz couldn’t hold back any of the needy, wet, embarrassing noises or the dribbling of drool that the insistent, faster and faster thrusting of the fuck machine was forcing out of him. He was sobbing and grunting and squawking while he tried to hold eye-contact with Ozzie, who was still just watching him with an expression on his face as if he was looking at the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

He let out a deep, insistent whine, because words just were not an option anymore. He felt like he was about to come at any moment. The dildo was moving so fast that he could hardly tell whether it was thrusting in or pulling out at any given moment. He needed Ozzie’s cock in his mouth so badly that he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get it right this minute — for real this time, not like earlier when he had thought he’d die if he wasn’t going to get fucked soon, because obviously he had survived that long enough.

“Alright, baby…” Ozzie pressed out. His voice sounded like he was out of breath, his hand was trembling as he grabbed Fizz’ jaw harder, and when he used his other hand to finally, finally feed his cock into Fizz waiting, open mouth, it seemed like he missed on accident when he smeared his leaking tip over Fizz’ cheek before he locked in on the target.

The fuck machine was pistoning the dildo in and out of him at such a speed that Fizz stopped being a body and just became scalding, liquid energy. Ozzie filled his head with his cock and his taste and his scent, Fizz’ face was buried in the fuzz of his big, hard body, unable to breathe but also absolutely unable to care about that.

He didn’t know when he started to come, but it had to have happened at some point between him turning into liquid and the world bursting into white and red fireworks.

It would have been too much to say that he “blacked out”, but he also wasn’t really conscious for the next however many minutes. He only realized that the fuck machine had stopped and that Ozzie had untied him when he was lifted up and cradled against Ozzie’s fluffy chest, and he had no idea when exactly they had left the bedroom, but they were definitely in the bathroom now. There was a glass being pushed against his lips, and he realised that the inside of his mouth tasted like Ozzie’s jizz, which was a taste he loved when it was fresh but which was as vile as anybody else’s fluids the morning after. He took a sip of water, but apparently his throat was still shot from swallowing Ozzie all the way down while he was pretty literally getting fucked out of his mind, and he immediately started choking.

“Careful, froggy!” Ozzie immediately put the glass down and bent Fizz forward over one of his hands while he tapped his back with the other one. Fizz coughed up a good amount of jizz and spit before he finally felt like he could breathe again, then he let Ozzie give him some more water. This time he bent his head forward immediately after taking the sip and just shook it back and forth to rinse his mouth, then he spit again.

He shook his head the next time Ozzie offered him the glass, then he let himself be scooped up again. He buried his face in Ozzie’s chest while Ozzie carried him into the shower and slipped another shower cap over his hat. The warm water made him even more sleepy, and he began to drift in and out of consciousness while big, warm hands cleaned his completely fucked-out body. There was another big, fluffy towel, and the next time he managed to push his way through the heavy blanket of exhaustion, an actual blanket was covering him, and Ozzie was in the process of joining him under that blanket. He adjusted the cover over the both of them before he pulled Fizz close to him. Cocooned in warmth and softness and Ozzie’s beloved scent, Fizz finally let himself slip down into sleep.

#it's finally done!!! this chapter is long as fuck though #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss Fizzarolli #Helluva Boss Ozzie #Helluva Boss Asmodeus #Fizzarozzie #ozzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizzozzie #asmodeus x fizzarolli #fizz x ozzie #Helluva Boss fanfiction #fanfic #God please be nice I'm so nervous about posting this tbh #fun filled fizzy fucking

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