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wmdamadeof · 1 year ago

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D&D Is Sexy (Gaz/Jackson)

Description: All that Gaz's boyfriend wants to do for his birthday is DM a short one-shot for the 141. Gaz doesn't expect to be turned on while playing a game he was sure he wouldn't like.

Warnings: Trans! Gaz, Unprotected Sex, Fluff and Smut, Clothed Sex (One clothed, one unclothed), Couch Sex, Fingering

Notes: For my darling @wmdamadeof

It was Roach who had finally convinced the 141 to sit down and play D&D with Jackson. Jackson had been begging for months, practically on his knees whenever the subject was brought up. According to Roach, Jackson hadn’t gotten to play D&D since he’d elected to leave the military because of his leg. If Gaz did the math for that, he’d say it had been at least four years since his boyfriend had played the game.

He didn’t particularly understand why his boyfriend liked the game so much. He always spotted him watching or listening to one of those online D&D podcasts, and he just couldn’t get it. Sitting around a table, pretending to be someone else, being forced to do math (simple as it was, it was still math). It didn’t sound like an ideal evening or, based on how Jackson had described it, an ideal day.

Still, it was clearly something that Jackson loved, something that he practically adored. Roach seemed to like it too, which was why he’d suggested that as a gift for Jackson on his birthday, they should all allow him to DM a short one-shot for them. It had taken some convincing, particularly for Price, but in the end, he’d given in just like the rest of them had.

When they’d told Jackson, you’d have thought they had given him a billion pounds and told him that Gaz was lying on top of it all naked and covered in whipped cream. He’d looked like he was going to collapse on the spot and Gaz had noticed that he was shaking when he’d hugged him. It was only then that Gaz had finally realized just how important D&D was to his boyfriend.

It made the long process of designing his character and filling out the sheet feel a little less pointless.

“You guys are going to love this,” Jackson swore for what had to be the fifth time since they’d all sat down at the table. It seemed more like he was trying to convince himself than he was them. They’d all agreed to, at the very least, pretend to enjoy themselves today. Gaz was reminded of that specifically when Roach shot them all a harsh look, silently telling them all to behave and put on their best faces.

Jackson gave the group a general overview of game rules and encouraged them to ask any questions that they needed to as they went along. With that, he checked in to make sure that everyone was good to go before beginning with slow words, building an environment around them, and slowly introducing their characters into the mix.

Gaz didn’t know that his boyfriend had such a way with words. Listening to him speak was like watching a spider spinning their web, an expert and intricate weaving of lines and descriptions that had even Price on the edge of his seat, waiting for what he would say next. What exactly would he do to their little characters next? It was as surprising as it was intriguing.

They were at a banquet now. Their entire party had been captured and now they were chained to their chairs in some big fancy mansion. So far, Jackson had done nothing but set the scene for them. He painted a vivid picture of a large banquet table overflowing with their favorite foods. Their glasses were each filled to the brim with a dark red liquid.

“Across the banquet hall, you hear the large double doors begin to creak open slowly. The wood scrapes the floor, adding to the noise of the room. It's a cacophony, echoing around in the silence. When the doors open fully, your eyes find a tall figure with short black hair. He looks like a charming young man and you each notice his beauty. He wears clothing similar to something that you would find from royalty.”

Jackson stood up taller then and his entire demeanor changed. It was rather impressive and Gaz watched him with curious eyes as he began to march around the table, watching them all closely.

“What a group,” he spoke after a moment. His voice carried a thick accent and was much deeper than Gaz had been expecting. “Such powerful warriors. All come to my banquet. I am quite honored.”

“Who are you?” Roach hissed, completely in character. Despite knowing it was only his boyfriend, Gaz felt suddenly intimidated by Jackson. The look that he fixed Roach with was downright disgusted.

“Has it really been so long Talor? So long that you no longer recognize my face? My eyes?” Just as suddenly as he’d gotten into character and Jackson was out of it, he went back to describing the moment for them. “The air around you all seems to spark with energy as this man steps closer to Talor.” Jackson rounded the table and leaned close to Roach, getting right in his face, “Take a look.”

The two paused for a moment as Jackson wrote something out on a notecard, folded it, and handed it to Roach. The message was clear. “For your eyes only.”

Everyone at the table watched as Roach unfolded the paper, his eyes widening as he read what was written. A moment passed before he folded the note and glared up at Jackson. “It takes Talor a moment, but eventually realization goes across his face. Everyone can see as he tenses before he just goes,” Roach leaned forward against the table and bared his teeth at Jackson, “You!”

Jackson gave a short wicked laugh before leaning over the table again, “So you do recognize me, Talor. Good.” He pushed himself up and started to circle the table again. “New friends you have made.”

“Free us, now,” Roach demanded, “This will only cause trouble for you.”

“The only thing that consistently causes me trouble, is you,” Jackson wheeled on Roach with a snarl. “You never learn, you never stop.” He slammed his hands down on the table and met Roach’s glare with a harsh one of his own. It was an impressive act by the two men and one that only served to draw Gaz further into the story that Jackson was crafting for them. “That is why we are here. So I can finally be free of you.”

Jackson pushed himself to stand just as Soap replied, “Free of him? You’d do best not to touch him or any of us and do as he says. Better for you if we all make it out alive.”

Soap had been the member of the group who’d taken to the game the best, so it was no surprise that he joined in on the two’s conversation, his character voice near identical to his actual voice, only slightly deeper of course.

Jackson turned to him with a snap, a gleeful grin on his face. Gaz wondered how much of it was the character and how much of it was his delight at having a member of the 141 actively participate in the story he was telling. “Ah,” he stood up straight and made his way over to Soap, “The half-orc speaks. A monster made only for rage and yet…” He trailed off and came to rest behind Soap. He let his hands fall on Soap’s shoulder, giving a slow shake, “I sense…care. Do you fear for your friend Boyman?”

Gaz was nearly taken out of the moment by the reminder of Soap’s character name, but he was soon brought back to it by Soap’s low growl, “I fear what I’ll do to you if you touch him.”

“I can sense it, I can practically smell the fear radiating off of you,” he leaned down, letting himself get right next to Soap’s ear before he responded, “Just as I can taste the love that you feel for him. Affection. Adoration. A beast in love with a beauty. Tell me, Boyman McFury, do you think that an elf, that Talor could ever truly love you?”

There was a pause and Gaz could see as Soap’s mouth fell open, his face going a tinge pink as though he’d been caught. It wasn’t a secret, everyone at the table had been able to tell that he was fighting hard for his and Roach’s characters to end up together. Gaz had even peeked over and seen him drawing little doodles of their characters together in his notebook.

Jackson was an expert at crafting his story, so he gave Soap no chance to catch up and respond before moving over to Ghost. “And you, Ravencroft. Do you believe that your gods will protect you from me? Protect your friends? Everything you have built for yourself. You believe you know loss? I will show you loss.”

“You will die before you touch anyone in this group,” Ghost only responded in a monotone voice, but it was clear that Jackson was pleased with even that response.

“Won’t I?” He reached over then, placing a hand on Price’s shoulder, “I already have. And you sit here powerless. Useless.” He turned his head then, looking at Price with a raised eyebrow, “How does it feel to be powerless Captain? Once the commander of a great army and now,” Jackson fixed him with a look of disgust and removed his hand from his shoulder, “Now look at you. Pathetic. Captain Jonathan Pearce is a folk hero. A god. Look now how a god falls.”

He pushed himself away from the table and started to pace around again, only stopping for a moment when Roach asked, “What are your intentions here, Adzeiros? You think you will kill us with ease?”

“Yes,” Jackson answered simply. He continued moving around the table and after a moment came to a rest behind Gaz, his hands landing softly on Gaz’s shoulders. “I intend to kill you all. All to finally rid myself of your stain Talor.”

“My friends have done nothing!”

“They have aligned themselves with you,” Jackson’s hands tightened on Gaz’s shoulders and, for a moment, Gaz could feel a chill go down his spine, “That is enough. I will rid myself of all of you. Tear you limb from limb until I can feed your worthless meat to my dogs. I will be the death of each of you.” He paused for a moment before, “Well, perhaps most of you.” Gaz felt one of his fingers begin to trace up his neck gently and he felt himself go warm. “Perhaps I will keep one,” Jackson leaned down and Gaz could feel his breath against his ear and the warmth of his lips only inches from his skin. He felt overwhelmingly hot for a moment and goosebumps seemed to raise along his skin. “I have other, more pleasurable, uses for you.”

As soon as Jackson had touched him and he’d gone, lifted back up to move on with the story, detailing to the group as the tall elf exited, leaving them alone to try and find a way out of their binds. With it, Gaz felt as though he’d been left on an edge, left high and dry with a boiling desire flooding through his bloodstream all to pool between his legs.

He hadn’t known that his boyfriend could play a part like that. He hadn’t known that D&D could be so…sexy.

The so-called “short” one-shot had lasted the entire day. From ten in the morning to almost eight at night before they’d finally finished, killing Azdeiros and earning each of their characters a happy ending. Gaz had been sure that Soap was going to cry when Jackson had detailed the small homestead that his character and Roach’s character had built together to live in when they wanted a break from adventuring.

Everyone had seemed quite pleased with the game and, by the end, even Ghost had gotten more involved, getting more into his character and the gameplay than anyone else. Jackson had even allowed Ghost to paint a vivid picture of his character using magic to crush a wyvern they’d been made to fight between two boulders. It had been rather graphic, but both Jackson and Ghost had been more than excited as they played off of each other to build the death for the creature. Jackson had excitedly told Ghost that he should try to dm sometime, that he had a natural talent for it. Ghost had shrugged it off, but they’d all seen the small smile that tugged at his lips from the words.

And now, as Gaz waved goodbye to Roach, Soap, and Ghost from the door of his and Jackson’s shared apartment, the day was over. Gaz was left alone with his darling boyfriend who was still buzzing with energy from the day's activity.

Normally, Gaz would have questioned where his boyfriend found all of the energy, normally he would have been surprised to still see Jackson so chipper at the end of the night as he worked on removing his prosthetic to switch into his wheelchair. Normally, Gaz wouldn’t have felt such a strong buzzing of energy under his own skin, calling for the man he was watching from the doorway of the living room.

“Well,” Jackson called to him, shooting him a quick grin as he set his prosthetic to the side, “what do you think? How was your first D&D experience?”

Gaz gave him a small smile and crossed the room, picking up his prosthetic and moving it to the usual place for him. “I didn’t know you were such an actor, it was…impressive.”

“That?” Jackson gave a chuckle, “All roleplaying love. ‘Fraid I wouldn’t be able to do any of that in any other situation. Something about D&D, you know?”

“Not in any other situation?” Gaz questioned, turning around with a carefully raised eyebrow. “Nothing other than D&D?” He could feel his face warming up again, but he did his best to squash any of the nerves he felt back down into his chest.

Jackson watched him for a moment, tilting his head curiously. “What are you thinking?”

Gaz gave a quick shrug, trying to appear nonchalant as he spoke, “I just thought your…performance was good. I, um, I enjoyed it.”

A moment of silence passed between the two before a look of knowing seemed to cross Jackson’s face, followed by an easy grin. Gaz shuffled a bit as he watched his boyfriend lean back casually against the couch, spreading his legs wide in a position that was all too enticing. His hips lifted for just a moment, allowing him to get more comfortable in his seat. Gaz’s eyes were drawn to the movement, his mouth going a bit dry.

“Kyle, baby,” Jackson’s voice had dropped just a bit, going a touch deeper. It was something much closer to the voice he’d used for the villain of their campaign and Gaz found himself resisting the urge to squirm. Jackson watched him for a moment, a twinkle of delight in his eyes, “You must have really enjoyed my performance, huh?” His eyes raked down Gaz’s form and Gaz knew that he knew.

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, feeling all too embarrassed at himself. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“What part of it got you?” Jackson gave him a teasing grin and tilted his head curiously, “The character? Or was it just me talking about using you for my pleasure?” Gaz could feel heat burning at his face and he glanced away quickly, refusing to meet Jackson’s eyes. “Maybe a bit of both?”

“Alright now,” Gaz brushed him off and went to move toward the kitchen, “It’s late, we should get ready for bed.”

“Kyle.”

Gaz stopped in his place, turning slowly to face the other man, something warm settling into his bones as he met the low look that the other man gave to him. There was a short moment of silence before Jackson lifted a hand and quirked two of his fingers, motioning for Gaz to come to him.

Gaz could feel his breathing stutter for a moment before he caught himself, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves. His hands were still shaking as he obediently stepped closer to Jackson, moving until he was standing between the other’s parted legs.

Jackson leaned forward and looked up at Gaz with low pleading eyes. One of his hands found Gaz’s hip, taking hold and rubbing soft circles with his thumb. For a brief moment, his fingers slipped below the material of Gaz’s shirt. He seemed to think for a moment before he spoke, “I have such pleasurable uses for you, my love.”

Gaz could feel himself shake as Jackson’s voice matched that of the character he’d done earlier. It was so similar to his own, yet there was this tone to it, some sort of warm sultry touch that tainted every word and wormed itself into Gaz’s brain. “You,” Jackson began to tug Gaz toward him, “mean more to me alive. You are more than the others, worth more. Perfect. Beautiful. Enchanting.” He paused, “Made for my pleasure.”

Slowly, he guided Gaz onto his lap, forcing his knees to each side of his thighs and their hips to press just lightly against one another. Just that slight movement was enough to cause a hitch in Gaz’s breath, warmth curling in his gut as the words that Jackson spoke rushed right between his legs.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, looking down at the look of pure confidence and smug amusement that his boyfriend wore. It was clear that Jackson was channeling some of the character that he’d teased Gaz with during the entire game and it was still working, still making Gaz warm and bothered and all too willing to do whatever Jackson asked of him. “What, um,” he let his hands rest on Jackson’s shoulders for a moment before beginning to trail them down over his chest slowly, “what do you want me to do.”

Jackson’s hands tightened for a split second before they guided his hips forward, encouraging him to grind their clothed bodies together. Gaz gave a small sigh of delight at the bit of friction against his aching cunt. He could tell that he was already growing slicker, the simple movement and words from Jackson were enough to have his body reacting without hardly any stimulation.

“Just this,” Jackson continued guiding Gaz’s hips against his for several moments before he finally pulled back, spreading his arms over the back of the couch to relax back and watch Gaz with a smirk on his face. “Show me how much you want me, how you’ll do anything to please me. Then I’ll touch you.”

Gaz let his head fall back, a groan pulling from his throat at those words. He continued moving his hips, grinding down harder against Jackson and enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend growing harder against him. “Yes,” he breathed, his hips jumping a bit as the seam of his pants rubbed deliciously against his clit. “Fuck, yes. Yes.”

Jackson watched him with careful eyes, twinged with a bit of darkened desire that Gaz had never quite seen there before. It pulled a shiver down his spine and had his cunt pulsing with the desire to be filled. He was sure his boxers were going to be soaked by the time Jackson finally stopped torturing him and touched him.

As Gaz rolled his hips again Jackson shifted, lifting his own hips up to meet Gaz’s movement. Twin groans fell from their lips, desire painting Jackson’s face as he let his mask slip just a bit. It wasn’t for long, only just enough to allow Gaz to see just how much his boyfriend was also affected by the little game that they were playing.

“So perfect,” Jackson breathed. His hands caressed Gaz’s face before trailing down his neck and over his chest. They kept moving lower, only stopping as they reached the edge of Gaz’s shirt. “Take this off,” he growled after a moment, “I want to see all of what is mine.”

Gaz didn’t think he’d ever stripped himself of his shirt quicker than he did at that moment. The useless piece of clothing was discarded with a toss, lost to the void until he went looking for it. As soon as his skin was exposed, Jackson’s hands were on him.

Despite the possessive mask that Jackson had put on, his touch didn’t change. It was the same as it always was when he touched Gaz: sweet and reverent. Filled with so much adoration that it made Gaz feel dizzy. He adored it, leaning further into Jackson’s hands with a small groan, his hips stuttering for a moment.

“Look at you,” Jackson muttered, his fingers tracing teasingly along the underside of Gaz’s pectorals, skating oh so close to his nipples but never touching. It was near torturous for Gaz, who was desperate for some sort of stimulation from his boyfriend’s hands. “So fucking perfect.”

“Paul,” Gaz panted the other's name, prepared to beg for what he wanted, “Touch me, please. I need it. I need you.”

“Ah,” Jackson pulled his hands away completely. Gaz gave a pathetic whine and sent his boyfriend a pleading look. When Jackson didn’t respond, he took one of his boyfriend’s hands in his own, trying to tug him forward to force him to touch. Within a second, Gaz found his hands restrained behind his back and his body flipped around.

Jackson pulled him back, manhandling him until he was back on his lap, only now his back was pressed flush to Jackson’s chest and he could feel his boyfriend’s beard rubbing against his neck. It was enticing and more than enough to have him squirming in desperation. Now Jackson had taken all of the stimulation away from his aching cunt and he was near the point of getting to his knees and begging.

“Remember love,” Jackson pressed a careful kiss to Gaz’s neck, “You’re here for my pleasure. Not the other way around.”

“But-”

“No.” Jackson's voice was harsh and Gaz found that he enjoyed his boyfriend being so firm with him. He never thought it would be something he would be into, never even considered it a possibility. But he assumed that the day was just a good one for discovering new things about himself. Like the fact that he quite enjoyed it when his boyfriend took such tight control.

Jackson held Gaz in place for a quiet moment before he let one of his hands slip down to the waistband of his pants. He toyed for a moment with the top button before swiftly undoing it and allowing his hand to slip below Gaz’s pants and boxers.

Gaz squirmed a bit in Jackson’s hold again, though Jackson still hadn’t even touched him, Gaz could feel his warmth. He was so close, his hand so close to where he desperately needed to be touched. Where his body was practically aching just for the man behind him. “Paul,” he pleaded again with the man behind him, adding a small whimper to the end of his words, “please.”

“You beg so sweetly for me.” Gaz gasped as he finally felt Jackson’s fingers touch his aching cunt. It was only a small caress, just a simple touch along his dripping slit, but it was enough to have his hips bucking up and his head tossed back against Jackson’s shoulder. His mouth fell open as Jackson dipped one of his fingers just inside of him before tracing them up to begin rubbing slow circles against his clit.

He was panting, sweat slicking at his skin as Jackson made a point of touching him slowly, dragging out every bit of pleasure that he could from Gaz’s body. It was already overwhelming enough, but Jackson wasn’t satisfied. He let his free hands trace along Gaz’s naked chest for several moments before his hand found Gaz’s nipples and began to slowly play with them.

He teased them with careful flicks and pinches, all while his other hand continued to finger and tease at Gaz’s cunt, nearly making him cum just from finally having his pent-up fantasies from the day fulfilled. “So wet, love. Let me guess, you’ve been dripping like this all day for me.” Gaz could feel himself go impossibly hotter at the low words whispered into his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. My pleasure is your pleasure.”

“Paul, I,” Gaz cut himself off with a desperate gasp as Jackson slipped a finger fully inside of his cunt. Jackson’s thumb was still toying with his clit, but his finger was working slowly at stretching out his sopping wet hole, working to prepare Gaz to take his cock. “Fuck, fuck,” he whined a bit, “please, baby, I want to take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

“I will,” Jackson assured him, a soothing kiss pressed to his neck. “First I have to get you ready baby. Let me enjoy myself. Let yourself enjoy this.” He started carefully working a second finger into Gaz’s cunt, scissoring him open slowly as he did so. Gaz’s eyes nearly rolled back at the pleasure that struck him from Jackson’s hands teasing his body. The hand playing with his nipples was just as good as the hand playing with his cunt and all of it was swirling together to create a tightly wound tension just above his cunt that threatened to snap more with every growing moment.

Gaz had no choice but to try and fight his shaking legs and desire to buck his hips into Jackson's hand and force the harsh pace that his body was desperate for. He could only toss his head back and hope that Jackson would take pity on his needy body soon.

Jackson was hard himself and Gaz was sure that he could feel the other’s cock aching through his jeans. He could also feel the subtle thrusts of Jackson’s hips, a simple attempt to give himself some sort of stimulation to his cock as he stole pleasure from Gaz’s body.

Jackson curled his fingers inside of Gaz for a moment, the whine pulled from Gaz’s lips was nearly sinful and it was enough to pull a matching groan from Jackson’s lips before he pulled his fingers from Gaz’s body and away from his cunt. He gave a quick slap to Gaz’s thigh before ordering, “Get rid of the rest of those clothes, unless you want them shredded.”

Gaz wasted no time in following Jackson’s orders. He was too desperate to argue, much less feel annoyed at the implication that Jackson would destroy any of his clothes. They both knew it wouldn’t come to that, not when his thighs were damp and he was forced to peel his boxers from his body rather than simply kick them off like he normally would.

When he turned back to Jackson, he expected to find his boyfriend working on taking his own clothes off. Instead, he found Jackson still reclined on the couch, his legs spread wide with his hand around his hard cock. He hadn’t bothered to take anything off, only unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear enough that he could free his cock. Something about that made Gaz shudder, a low gasp pulling from his throat as his breathing went heavy.

Jackson watched Gaz for a moment, his eyes raking over him in a way that forced Gaz to resist the urge to squirm. Those eyes were filled with so much heat, so much lust. And, Gaz noted an enticingly sharp prick of possessiveness. He wanted that possessiveness carved into his bones, he wanted his body marked down to the molecules as belonging to Jackson. And Jackson knew it.

Jackson stroked his cock for a long moment, his eyes never leaving Gaz’s body, even as precum leaked from his slit, he just made a point to spread it down his shaft while staring Gaz down. It seemed like his gaze was just glued to Gaz’s body. Gaz couldn’t make any comments about it, his own heated gaze stuck on the sight of Jackson working his hard cock. Gaz could feel his cunt clenching at the thought of finally having his boyfriend inside of him.

Finally, Jackson raised a hand and motioned Gaz forward with two fingers, the same way he’d done it only ten or so minutes earlier. Gaz stumbled toward him, as though drawn with an invisible string connected to Jackson’s fingers.

With Jackson’s guidance, Gaz settled back on his lap, neither of them able to tear their gaze away from the other. “That’s a good boy,” Jackson rumbled, helping to slowly guide Gaz down, rubbing the tip of his cock along Gaz’s entrance for a short moment. With a simple roll of his hips, he let the head of his cock slip inside Gaz’s body.

Gaz struggled to breathe for a short moment at the feeling, but soon he was lowering himself down slowly, his breathing still heavy as he slowly sank down onto Jackson’s hard cock. Jackson did his best to guide him, gripping tight to Gaz’s plush thighs as they shook under his hands. “Fuck,” his head fell back just slightly, but his eyes stayed on Gaz’s face. “So good for me baby, such a good fuck toy for me.”

Gaz could only whimper at the words, feeling his cunt clench around Jackson’s cock in response to the heat that they caused. Jackson gave a choked-out laugh at the feeling, that smug look returning to his face with something wild in his eyes. “Liked that, did you?”

Gaz didn’t answer, he just let his eyes fall shut as he finally managed to sink all the way down on Jackson’s cock. He was completely out of it, the feeling of being so full and his clit just slightly rubbing against the hair at the base of Jackson’s cock, was so fucking good. He was just reveling in the feeling when a harsh smack landed on his ass, causing his eyes to fly open as he met Jackson’s gaze with a shocked look.

“I asked you a question.” Jackson punctuated his words with another quick roll of his hips, pulling a gasp from Gaz’s throat. “Answer me.” Jackson started to lift Gaz off of his cock, quickly setting a deep slow pace. His cock seemed to split Gaz open, near impaling him with a slow and steady pleasure.

“Yes!” Gaz’s mouth seemed to work despite the white static flooding his brain. Pleasure rushed through his body. A consistent slow-building pleasure that buzzed through his veins and made his legs shake and his toes curl. “Yes, yes, Paul, please! Need, need- fuck, need you to use me, take your pleasure from me!”

“I intend to, baby.” Jackson gripped Gaz’s bare hips tighter, fucking into him with gritted teeth and something akin to a growl ripped from his throat. His fingers dug into the fat of Gaz’s hips, hard enough that Gaz was sure there would be bruises decorating his skin in the morning. Beautiful blues and yellows and purples that would show Jackson’s claim on him. Painting him with his touch.

Jackson made good on his promise, guiding Gaz’s hips as he fucked into his tight cunt, groaning at the feeling of the other clenching and fluttering around his cock. Gaz did nothing but grip tight to Jackson’s shoulders and let himself be used. His mouth had dropped open and the only things he managed to get out were desperate pants and moans of Jackson’s name, dripping from his tongue like a sweet nectar. It only served to encourage Jackson to move quicker, fucking Gaz with greater desperation.

Gaz was pushed closer and closer to his end, the feeling of his cunt being filled over and over and his clit being abused with every thrust of Jackson’s cock and every brush of the hair at the base of his cock against him. It was too fucking good. Too fucking good and Gaz wasn’t going to last. He was too pent up from Jackson playing with his cunt and now finally having the other’s cock bullying its way inside of him…it was too fucking good.

Luckily for him, Jackson seemed to be stuck in the same boat because, before he could react, he found himself flipped to his back on the couch, Jackson’s body hovering over his as he began pounding into Gaz’s cunt, chasing his own release and driving Gaz closer to his own as he did.

“So perfect for me baby.” Words spilled from Jackson’s lips like a fountain, praises for Gaz, compliments piled on compliments, desperate thanks for doing something as simple as playing D&D with him on his birthday. It was less of the game they’d been playing and more of the Jackson that Gaz was used to having pressed between his thighs. He adored it. He adored his boyfriend.

Jackson made it much easier to adore him when one of his hands dropped between their bodies, frantically rubbing circles into Gaz’s clit. Gaz’s head knocked back at the feeling, his brain fizzing out as everything seemed to go higher and higher before finally coming down in a heavy crash, waves of pleasure flooding through his body as he shook and nearly screamed at the feeling.

He was so far gone that he hardly noticed as Jackson cursed, his hips stuttered for several moments before he finally buried himself deep into Gaz’s cunt, filling him with warm sticky cum.

There was a long moment of silence, the only sounds echoing in their silent apartment being the sounds of their labored breathing. Neither of them spoke, but Jackson was soon to practically collapse against Gaz’s chest, letting his mouth and tongue explore the sweat-slicked skin beneath his touch. Sweet kisses and swipes of his tongue, speaking volumes of his affection for Gaz with the reverence that he touched him with.

Gaz wrapped his arms around Jackson’s shoulders, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he pulled the other man up higher, bringing their mouths to just hover over one another’s. “Happy birthday, Paul.”

Jackson responded with a simple, “I love you,” before pressing their mouths together in a slow sweet kiss.

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wmdamadeof · 1 year ago

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A Misunderstanding of Character

Description: People seem to misunderstand the relationship between King Simon Riley and his husband Gary Sanderson. Behind closed doors, their relationship is much different than people would expect.

Warnings: Smut, Knifeplay, Blood kink, painplay, riding, trans! Roach, blood-licking

Word Count: 5.9k

Note: For my dearest @wmdamadeof adore you frfr <3

The common belief held outside of Ghost’s kingdom was that he’d kidnapped the innocent Prince Gary Sanderson from his kingdom and forced him into marriage to keep him trapped within the confines of his kingdom. To others, Ghost was evil and murderous. He took in disavowed knights who had committed crimes in other kingdoms and allowed them to run amok in his own kingdom so long as they would give him their loyalty.

There seemed to be a common misunderstanding when it came to the relationship between King Simon Riley, commonly referred to by his title as the “Ghost King,” and his consort Gary “Roach” Sanderson.

They knew he would kill any rescue parties they sent after Roach. They knew that the king was likely taking his joy in torturing the young sweet prince and keeping him for himself to feed his own sadistic pleasures. After all, to them, Roach was only an innocent victim chained to the Ghost King’s side.

It was an easy misunderstanding, an easy mistake to make. Ghost had made the mistake himself at one point - believing that Roach was innocent. He knew better now. He’d learned time and time again with blood on his hands and a sweet voice in his ear egging him on. He’d learned time and time again with a tight heat around his cock and blood on his tongue.

“And what do you plan to do with that?” Ghost raised a careful eyebrow at the man currently pacing around his room twirling a knife in his hand. Roach slowed down at his question and turned to face him, his stance wide.

Roach was certainly not what he would call innocent.

He lifted the knife up, letting the metal of the blade shine in the room's dim lighting. Carefully, he stepped closer to Ghost, making sure the man would have a good view. With a single move, he pricked his finger, pulling a little well of blood to his skin. He locked eyes with Ghost and brought his tongue out before running the finger across it, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. He brought his tongue back into his mouth with a slight moan, tilting his head back as he did.

Ghost's eyes were drawn to the line of Roach's throat and he attempted to readjust himself, but the rope biting into his wrists made it quite difficult. His eyes traced over the thin nightshirt that Roach had already untied fully. The fabric of it was hanging off of his shoulders and exposing more of his chest, Ghost’s mouth watered at the sight of it. The long nights he’d spent marking that exposed skin could do nothing to quench his craving for more.

After a few moments, Roach tilted his head up so he could look at Ghost again, something low and seductive lurking in his eyes. Ghost knew that look and he knew it could only mean pleasing things for him. Torturous things, but pleasing nonetheless. “What I plan to do,” Roach started toward him slowly and Ghost’s eyes were drawn to the swishing of his sleepshirt around the tops of his thighs. His mouth watered a bit at the muscular legs that were on full display for him to enjoy. Roach snapped suddenly and Ghost’s eyes shot back up to his face.

Roach gave a sigh and shook his head, though it was clear he was quite amused with Ghost. “Pay attention, Simon. I’m talking.” He resumed his steps forward until, finally, he was hovering over Ghost, looking down at his vulnerable form beneath him. “What I plan to do,” he continued, “Is to use your own knife on you.”

He brandished the blade again and Ghost could feel himself growing hotter. He was sure at this point that the thin sheet covering his modesty was doing nothing to hide the clear arousal that he was feeling. That was made only more obvious when Roach’s eyes raked down his body to land on the clear tent in the sheet covering his dignity. “Oh,” Roach shifted his weight to one foot, “did someone like that?” He lifted his foot and let it carefully trace over Ghost’s thighs before pressing into his crotch.

The pressure was soft, at first. Nothing more than a slow massage that had Ghost jolting forward, a low moan building in his throat. Then, ever so slowly, the pressure increased. It was more pleasurable, then more, and then finally it began to border on painful. Ghost couldn’t tell if the pain was making him harder or if it was the little laugh that Roach gave in response to his pained groan.

Roach held the pressure for several more long moments, a grin on his face as he watched Ghost groan. Then, suddenly, he’d stepped away and returned himself back to two feet. It gave Ghost only a few moments to catch his breath before there was a weight dropping onto his lap and a knife held up for his eyes to see.

A moment of silence sat between the two. Ghost watched as Roach twisted the dagger every which way, allowing him to observe it. It wasn’t necessary, Ghost knew the blade like the back of his hand. It was his own, after all. Roach brought the blade closer to him, pressing the cool of the flat side against his neck. They sat like that for a long moment, just staring at one another as Roach held the knife to Ghost. Then, Roach rolled his hips.

Ghost tilted his head back at the feeling of his cock brushing against Roach’s bare thighs through the sheet. It felt far too good. Far too right. He could feel as Roach pulled the knife away and in response, he lifted his head to look at the other once again. “That blade,” he started, watching as Roach brushed the sharp edges against his fingers, “has killed more people than you know.”

The words caused Roach to roll his hips forward again, this time pulling a slow gasp from his own lips. Ghost could see the flush that spread over his face and down his neck. It was faint, but slowly growing. “And tell me, my love, how many screams has this blade heard? How many people’s flesh has it taken?”

“Countless,” Ghost answered easily, his eyes locking on to Roach’s. More of that red pulled to flush at Roach’s skin and Ghost could feel the shiver that he tried to repress. Slowly, he ground their hips together again, only this time Roach didn’t stop, he just kept moving his hips in a slow and steady rhythm.

“And,” he gave a small gasp at the friction of the sheet between them, “has the blade ever tasted your flesh?”

Ghost watched him with careful eyes, little punched-out breaths pulling from his lips at the careful movements between the thin layer of fabric resting over his cock. “No,” he finally managed to gasp, “It hasn’t.”

Roach gave a tut and shook his head slowly, faux disappointment on his face. “Such a shame,” he started, one of his hands reaching out to trace down Ghost’s chest, “Such a shame that such fine steel hasn’t had the chance to taste such fine flesh.” The words pulled a shiver down Ghost’s spine and a bright grin from Roach. Slowly, Roach brought the knife down to press against Ghost’s skin once again. This time, however, he let the sharp side scrape across one of Ghost’s pecs, pulling a deliciously dangerous sensation as it traced across his skin. Any further pressure and he’d be bleeding.

“You,” Ghost struggled just a bit against the binds that kept him in place. He found himself rather miffed that he’d been so easily distracted to allow himself to be restrained in such a way. With only a flutter of his lashes and promises of sweet touches, Ghost had given in to the request from Roach. The tight ropes kept him from just grabbing the other man, pinning him under his body, and making him beg his name. A terrible torture considering how his cock was already hard and leaking.

He pulled in a slow breath in an effort to calm the near-overwhelming arousal burning his skin. He felt liquid hot in comparison to the cool steel of the dagger as it followed the lines of his skin and traced the muscles of his chest. “You should not think to use my own blade against me,” Ghost warned slowly. His voice betrayed his desire and Roach answered it with a slight scrape of his blunt nails over one of Ghost’s nipples, pulling a choked-out moan from his throat.

“No?” he continued to roll his hips for several slow moments, working the friction of the sheet and the pressure of Ghost’s hard cock against his aching cunt. Between the two of them, they’d worked up a small wet spot on the little sheet, a mix of their arousal through the very thing that kept them separated. Little hums of pleasure pulled from Roach’s mouth, he tilted his head back after a moment, his focus moving to his own pleasure for several brief seconds. Ghost could only pant and jerk his hips up to meet Roach’s slow grinding. It wasn’t enough for him, not enough on his cock, and not enough of Roach. He wanted to feel those muscular thighs trembling around him as he fucked that sweet cunt.

Eventually, though, Roach stopped moving altogether. Ghost gave a low dissatisfied groan at the sudden stop of what pleasure there was against his hard cock. He tugged against the restraints once again but was given no slack from the merciless tightness of the rope around his wrists. He could only give a dark look to Roach as he shifted back so that his weight was no longer in Ghost’s lap. It did nothing but pull a small laugh from Roach, both of them knew that he could do nothing in that moment. He was powerless.

“Tell me, my love, why should I not use this blade against you?” Roach added a bit more pressure to the knife as he pulled it around Ghost’s skin. It was a threat, one Ghost recognized easily.

“Because,” Ghost started, “you are not so foolish to think that you can do it without punishment.” He tilted his head at Roach and the two locked eyes for several moments. Ghost could see the way that Roach’s breathing stuttered over itself and how his grip tightened on his knife. He knew it wasn’t from fear, it was never from fear with his darling husband.

Roach traced the knife along Ghost’s skin, his eyes watching the way that the flesh dipped under the point of the knife carefully. His tongue flicked out after a moment, wetting his lips as he readjusted his position in Ghost’s lap. “And what punishment should I expect from you?” He leaned closer, moving until their noses were practically touching.

Ghost tilted forward as much as he could with the rope around his wrists keeping him in place. Roach stayed where he was, leaving the two sharing slow but desperate breaths between them. “Perhaps I will turn the knife on you,” Ghost threatened, “you should never underestimate what I am capable of.”

“Believe me,” Roach breathed, “I do not.” With those words, he dug the knife into Ghost’s flesh, cutting a line into his skin just above his pec. Ghost could only gasp at the sudden pain and bare his teeth at Roach as blood began to drip down his chest. Slowly, Roach let up the pressure until he was pulling the knife away fully, his own breathing matching Ghost’s ragged intakes of air. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Ghost could only watch as the knife was abandoned on the floor next to his body. There was silence that lingered between them as Roach brought his hand up to collect some of the blood that had dripped down Ghost’s chest. He allowed it to color his fingers crimson and begin spilling down his hand before he pulled back. “So pretty,” he murmured, his eyes watching the red on his fingers. His free hand reached out to spread the blood over Ghost’s chest.

“Roach,” Ghost hissed in warning as the other’s hand brushed over his wound, collecting blood on his skin and causing a stinging pain to his chest. Roach only glanced up at his face before returning his attention to the delicious red of the blood that was now smeared along Ghost’s chest. He guided his hand down after a short moment, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Ghost could do nothing but watch as Roach stained the white sheet covering his cock with red as he slowly pulled it back, revealing his arousal to hungry eyes.

“You,” Roach leaned forward to wrap his hand around Ghost’s cock, pulling a gasping groan from the man beneath him, “are always accused of being so dark and evil my love, where is that darkness now?” He began a slow rise and fall of his hand over the heated skin of Ghost’s cock. He moved slowly, spreading Ghost’s leaking pre-cum over his shaft as he worked him over in slow steady strokes. Ghost attempted to buck up into the touch, seeking more than the slow pace that Roach was giving him. It was useless around the ropes keeping him in place.

The hand on his cock was patient and steady, keeping its pace carefully even as Roach leaned forward to kiss along Ghost’s cheek and trail those kisses down his neck. Bloodstained between both of them, some of it slicking Ghost’s cock from where Roach had run his hand through the mess of it. The rest of it had stained the white of Roach’s shirt as he pressed himself closer and, with every slight brush against the wound, Ghost could feel pulses of pain running down his spine and straight to his cock.

Roach let his mouth nip and suck at Ghost’s skin, uncaring of any marks that he left behind in his wake. After all, what wrong would there be in marking what was his, especially when Ghost could do nothing to stop him? It was quite perfect for him and he didn’t hold himself back from sinking his teeth into the flesh of Ghost’s shoulder hard, tasting little bits of blood that leaked from the skin at his rough treatment. He made sure to keep his hand moving in those slow strokes, allowing Ghost a torturous mixture of pleasure and pain as he worked him with his hand.

There was a moment that passed as Roach ran his tongue over the wound, collecting any of the blood that leaked from the new wound on Ghost’s skin. “My love,” he muttered against Ghost’s skin, “what has happened to the man who others believe kidnapped and forced me here? Where is this man who is claimed to torture me on the daily?” He gave a smug little laugh as Ghost struggled against the ropes again, tugging and twisting his wrists in an attempt to escape as he glared at Roach. His face was red, and the panting breaths he was giving did nothing to hide his clear enjoyment of Roach’s attack on his body.

“You should let them see you now,” Roach teased. He shifted his body, lining his dripping cunt up with Ghost’s cock. He pressed his lips to Ghost’s ear and let the head of his cock slip inside of him with a careful roll of his hips. He gasped in Ghost’s ear at the move, his breath hot against Ghost’s neck. “Let them see how their innocent Prince has brought his evil husband under his mercy.”

With those words, Roach allowed himself to begin slowly sinking down onto Ghost’s cock. He moved with a deliberate laziness, taking his sweet time in sliding Ghost’s cock inside of himself. With every roll of his hips, Ghost found more and more of himself surrounded and taken by the tight warmth that rested between his husband’s legs. A delightful pulsing warmth seemed to spread from his cock and down his legs and up to his chest and arms, though the majority of that heated arousal came to a rest just at his navel. It seemed to pool there, swirling together with the pain that Roach had forced onto his body, creating a cocktail of stinging hurt and desire.

With every inch of Ghost’s cock that seemed to sink inside his body, Roach would give a careful little gasp, each of them betraying his own enjoyment of the feeling. Ghost seemed to split him open, stretching his dripping hole around his length in a way that was all too satisfying for him. It was like he could feel every dip, curve, and vein as it brushed against the insides of him, and with every bit he grew more and more desperate for the man under him. When he finally managed to sink down fully, all of Ghost’s hard cock seated inside of him, it was almost like a relief. Ghost was right where he belonged inside of him.

Roach tilted himself forward, wrapping his arms around Ghost’s neck and pressing their bodies tight to one another. There was no room between them again, only their shared ragged breathing as Roach readjusted himself on Ghost’s lap, finding a more comfortable position for himself. It only served to pull a groan from Ghost’s lips.

“Roach,” Ghost started, his voice low and dangerous, “Untie me.”

Roach paused for a moment and tilted his head at Ghost, watching him with careful eyes. After a moment, he leaned forward and rolled his hips again, this time more purposefully. Both of them gasped at the same time, overwhelmed with the feeling of Ghost’s cock rocking further into the tight heat of Roach’s cunt. Roach began a steady and slow roll of his hips, driving both himself and Ghost with a slow build of pressure. With every move of his hips, his clit would brush against the hair at the base of Ghost’s cock, providing an extra bit of friction that had him shoving himself closer to Ghost and connecting their mouths in a heated kiss.

The kiss was biting, a harsh mix of teeth and tongues that contrasted the slow torturous roll of Roach’s hips. Roach wasn’t kind with his mouth, nipping at Ghost’s lip any time he could. Ghost returned the treatment by ravaging Roach’s mouth with his tongue and surging forward to pull him back any time he tried to catch his breath. After one particularly hard nip by Roach, Ghost responded by biting at Roach’s lip even harder. As soon as he did, Roach was surging back, a desperate whine spilling from his mouth as a bit of blood dripped down his chin from where Ghost had bitten him.

“Untie me,” Ghost demanded again. He punctuated his words with a quick roll of his hips, fucking himself up into Roach’s tight cunt and pulling a squeak from the man in his lap as he interrupted the slow rhythm that Roach had set for them. Roach responded by digging his fingers into the skin of Ghost’s shoulders and resuming his slow and steady pace. Any time that Ghost tried to buck his hips up, Roach would simply move away from him for several seconds, punishing him for trying to take control in his vulnerable state. “Roach,” Ghost growled, a low simmering of frustration boiling up next to the near-burning desire that he had to just fuck into his sweet husband and force him to beg for his forgiveness.

“Is this not,” Roach sped his hips up just a bit, somehow creating a more torturous sensation as he began to fully lift himself up off of and drop back down onto Ghost’s cock, “enjoyable my love? Are you not being pleased?”

“You,” Ghost cut himself off with a low moan, pleasure pulling down his spine harshly. He gave several desperate pants while glaring up at Roach, “Fuck, fuck,” he tugged at his restraints again, desperate to be free of them, desperate to touch Roach’s skin. He tugged at them harder. He could feel them give a little, but for the moment they held strong. “If you don’t untie me now, I will not be kind when I am freed.”

Roach tilted his head back at the words, exposing the line of his throat as he moaned. “Fuck, I enjoy the idea of that too much to let you go.” He began moving quicker, moaning and whining as he bounced himself on Ghost’s cock, taking pleasure from him. Ghost could only pant and watch him. It still wasn’t what he wanted, it wasn’t what he needed. He wanted to touch Roach. He needed to pin him beneath his body and fuck him. “You know how much I like it when you’re mean.”

Roach followed his words by dragging his hands over Ghost’s shoulder and down his chest. He wasn’t kind as he went over Ghost’s wound, poking and pulling at it until several of the places where the bleeding had stopped began to spill with blood again. The look on his face told Ghost exactly how much he enjoyed seeing the blood spilling over his chest. Just how much he enjoyed hearing Ghost’s pained gasp. Roach’s sudden desperate movements of his hips confirmed it.

The noises between them were downright filthy. The wet slapping sounds of Ghost’s cock fucking into Roach’s dripping cunt mixed with their own moans and gasps. Roach’s shirt and the sheet that had laid between them were both stained with blood and Roach’s chin was still dripping with a bit of the blood from where Ghost had bitten him. It was a filthy recipe, made just right to arouse and excite both of them.

Ghost began struggling more against his binds, desperate to take his control back. Roach only gave a small laugh at his struggle before surging down to connect their lips in another rough kiss. Ghost wasted no time licking into Roach’s mouth, enjoying the traces of blood that he could taste. Roach’s hands continued to trace along Ghost’s chest as the two pressed closer and closer. After a long moment and the pres of their lips together, Ghost sucked Roach’s bottom lip into his mouth, causing Roach to give a pained gasp and his cunt to clench tightly around Ghost’s cock.

The feeling of Roach clenching down around him, those tight velvety walls of his cunt surrounding him completely, was enough to drive him wild, and, with one last massive yank against his restraints, the rope finally gave way. It broke with a loud snap, not even giving Roach a second to properly react before Ghost was on him.

Ghost had warned Roach that he would not be kind and he knew how much the shorter man enjoyed it when he was mean, so he had no plans to hold back. It was that thought in mind that had him surging forward to pull Roach from his lap and slam him to the ground beneath his body. He didn’t give Roach a chance to catch his breath before he connected their mouths in a bruising kiss. He took control of the kiss, shoving his tongue into Roach’s mouth and forcing him to accept whatever he did by biting and sucking at his tongue and bottom lip.

Roach didn’t seem to mind the sudden change of position, a choked-out moan leaving his lips as Ghost ground their hips together, rutting his hard cock against Roach’s clit. Ghost didn’t give him any sort of reprieve, a harsh contrast to the torture that Roach had been pushing on him. Rather than withholding, Ghost intended to make Roach beg him for rest.

He wasn’t gentle as he shoved his cock back inside of Roach, he knew what his darling husband could take and he knew how much he enjoyed the stretch. He filled him with one swift move, sending shocks of pleasure down both of their spines. The feeling of being surrounded by Roach’s warmth once again forced Ghost’s mouth away as he panted and moaned. This was exactly what he’d wanted and he intended to have his way with Roach.

His hands traced down Roach’s body, feeling along the muscles hiding under his shirt before slipping down to grab at his thighs, tugging his body closer so that there was no space between his hips and Roach’s. His grip was bruising, as though he was trying to crush Roach’s thigh in his hand. Once he was sure that the flesh would be good and tender under his grasp, he pulled his hand back and brought it down onto the skin harshly, sending a loud smacking noise into the air.

“Simon!” Roach gasped, his hips jerking up against Ghost’s. Ghost leaned down, sinking his teeth into Roach’s shoulder until he tasted blood before rutting his hips forward. He set a harsh pace, slamming his cock into Roach’s cunt at an ever-increasing pace. He wasn’t kind as he fucked into him, grabbing and groping at his skin to his heart's delight. He’d been kept from touching for too long, kept from fucking himself into the tight heat of his darling husband. Now, he intended to take advantage and take his control.

He traced his tongue over the bleeding wound on Roach’s shoulder, enjoying how Roach shuttered and moaned at the near-constant panging pleasure of his cock bullying his cunt. With every thrust of his cock he could feel Roach clenching and fluttering around him, it was almost overwhelming for him. The sudden pleasure was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed. Hearing Roach moaning and begging his name was just a pleasing bonus.

“More!” Roach’s head hit the floor with a slight thud, though he only gave a slight moan in acknowledgment of it. His hand’s grabbed at Ghost’s shoulders and back, trying desperately to pull him closer and make him fuck him harder. “What happened to, oh fuck- what happened to not being kind?”

Ghost never usually reacted to taunts, usually, he was able to keep his composure. His husband always had a way of ruining his composure.

He reached out quickly, pressing his hand to the base of Roach’s throat, cutting off his air with just a slight bit of pressure. He could see the haze that fell over Roach’s face nearly instantly. The way that his cunt clenched around Ghost’s cock was enough to confirm that his husband was taking his joy in the move. “What was that?” Ghost leaned closer to him, pressing his face closer until Roach would be able to taste his breath on his tongue. “Do I need to remind you,” he reached to the side, his hand searching for the knife that Roach had discarded previously, “exactly who is in control here?”

He released the pressure on his hand, allowing Roach to take several gasping breaths. Ghost took the chance of his momentary distraction to reach out and grab the knife resting on the floor. He brought it up for Roach to see, twisting it in his hands in the same way that Roach had done earlier. Roach’s breathing was still labored, but Ghost could see the delight dancing in his eyes. “There’s the Ghost king,” he breathed, his hands tracing along Ghost’s arms carefully. “Go on,” he wrapped his hand around Ghost’s wrist before guiding the hand holding the knife closer to him, “torture me, my love.” He pulled his hand away, leaving Ghost with the knife in his hand, the tip pressed to Roach’s clothed chest.

“You would enjoy that wouldn’t you?” Ghost breathed out. For just a moment, he pressed the knife down harder, allowing just the tip to pierce through Roach’s shirt and skin. Roach arched up into the blade, pushing it further into his skin and causing blood to begin flowing down his chest. It was clear he was enjoying the pain from the gasping breaths he was taking and the way his hips seemed to be jumping up quickly.

He allowed the movement for several moments before pulling the knife away, denying Roach the stinging pain that he so clearly wanted. Sure enough, Roach gave a desperate whine at the loss of the knife against his skin. His fingers dug into Ghost’s arm harshly in response, Ghost didn’t even flinch at the move.

“I told you I would be unkind,” he muttered under his breath, watching as Roach looked up at him desperately. He admired the pleading look that Roach was giving him, adoring the clear panic that flashed across his eyes when he realized that Ghost had no intention of giving him what he so clearly wanted. He was desperate for Ghost’s wrath, Ghost was denying him what he so desperately wanted, and that in and of itself was torture for his darling Roach. “Now then,” he toss the knife to the side and dropped lower, licking and sucking at Roach’s neck for only a moment, “be a good little thing and let me hear you.”

He was quick to begin fucking his cock into his pretty husband once again. He set a harsh pace, exactly what he’d been craving all night, and allowed himself to indulge in the softness of the man underneath him. Roach felt perfect around him, felt perfect under him. His body shook with every thrust of Ghost’s hips, praises and pleas spilled from his lips like honey and Ghost relished in each of them. He was desperate to hear more from Roach, desperate to turn him into a babbling mess.

With a bruising strength, Ghost grabbed tight to Roach’s legs and used his grip to guide one of Roach’s legs to rest over his shoulder, the other held tightly against his hip. Roach could do nothing to fight against the new position as Ghost plowed into him faster, every thrust of his hips nearly bruising with its intensity. Immediately, shocks of arousal seemed to attack Ghost’s senses, tempting him to move impossibly faster in an attempt to chase the pleasure that had been denied to him earlier.

“Simon! Oh, fuck, please please I need, need,” a sob pulled from Roach’s throat, cutting his words off as he whined at one particularly perfect thrust inside of him. Ghost made a point to aim for that spot again, making it even more difficult for Roach to speak as his senses were assaulted with the heavy pleasure from Ghost’s cock fucking into him. “Please!”

“Please what?” Ghost taunted, his voice low and harsh, “Come on, use your words, love.”

“The,” Roach stuttered, “the knife! Please, please!” Ghost tilted his head at Roach, a small grin playing on his lips as he looked down at the desperate man beneath him. He didn’t say anything, he just continued to fuck himself into his cunt. “Simon! Please!”

“Do you,” Ghost gave a gasp, his hips stuttering a bit as he pressed himself closer to Roach and gripped his legs tighter. He could feel Roach’s legs shaking around him and something in that gave him a terrible sense of satisfaction. He loved driving the other man to the point of begging like this. “Do you want me to use the knife again? Come on, speak to me, my love.”

“Yes!” Roach finally managed to call out, tugging at Ghost’s shoulders and scrabbling for some sort of purchase as he continued to touch him. “Yes, please!”

“Good boy,” Ghost praised, his hand slipping to the side to grab tight to the knife on the ground. He brought it to Roach’s chest and made a quick cut through both his shirt and skin, pulling a desperate moan from Roach’s throat and causing his cunt to clench tight around his cock. Ghost could feel that the man was getting closer to his end, his legs jerking in his grasp as his hands dug tighter into his skin. The feelings of it all nearly knocked Ghost over with its intensity. This was perfect, Roach was perfect just like this. Helpless under his body.

“More!” Roach begged, his chest arching up into Ghost’s touch and the knife. “More, please! Please, I’m so-”

He cut himself off with a groan, his body spasming for a moment, his entire body shaking. “Getting close, love?” Ghost gave a strained chuckle, his hips still fucking harshly into Roach. “Come on love, come on, let me feel you.”

He gave another quick swipe of the knife across Roach’s chest, cutting a line across his skin. Blood began spilling and with it, Ghost could feel Roach’s body go tense before he came with a loud shout of his name. The feeling of Roach’s cunt spasming around his cock was enough to cause the pleasure building in Ghost to begin building to dangerous levels before finally reaching a boiling point.

His hips stuttered once then twice before, with one last thrust of his hips, he was spilling inside of Roach’s tight heat. He continued fucking into Roach, shoving himself deeper into his husband just to feel his cum seeping out around his cock. He continued fucking his hips into his husband, enjoying the sweet slide before beginning to slow his thrusts. He enjoyed the feeling of Roach twitching with every last one of his thrusts. He was already clawing at his back by the time he finally stopped moving, allowing him some reprieve for the time being.

He stayed buried inside of Roach, allowing his weight to rest on top of his body as they caught their breaths. He admired the red that flushed Roach’s skin and the blood that was seeping through his shirt to further stain the white. He looked a right mess pressed under Ghost’s body, fucked out and bleeding. A perfect little mess, just for him.

“Good?” His voice was no louder than a whisper, spoken only for Roach’s ears. He enjoyed being mean, but he loved his darling husband enough to make sure that he was still comfortable and happy with the situation. After all, their relationship was nothing like what people assumed.

Roach gave a low moan and slowly peeled his eyes open to look up at him. Ghost could feel his mouth ticking up into a smug little smirk as he admired the haze in Roach’s eyes. Seeing Roach looking so fucked out did wonders for his ego. “‘M fine,” his hands lazily stroked across Ghost’s skin, “And you? I wasn’t too mean?”

Ghost gave a slow chuckle, his eyes admiring the lazy grin that crossed Roach’s face. “Not in the slightest,” he leaned down to press a slow kiss against Roach’s lips, tasting the blood that lingered there. “Though I think it would have given anyone other than me a shock.”

“Let them be shocked,” Roach tugged Ghost closer to him, “I enjoyed that. You look so pretty when you bleed.”

“I could say the same to you, my love.” Ghost leaned down to press kisses to Roach’s face, pulling giggles from his throat. “My perfect husband.”

“My perfect husband,” Roach responded back. He gave a slow contented sigh and, for several long moments, the two just lay in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. Once Ghost felt rested enough, he allowed himself to slowly begin moving his hips again, pulling a slow gasp from Roach’s mouth. “Simon!”

“Come on,” Ghost gave a slow grin, “I’m not done with you, my love. I don’t think I’ve been mean enough yet.”

By the end of the night, Ghost had managed to fulfill his wish to hear Roach begging.

#chewing in the walls #This was so perfect!!!#im crawling in the ceiling

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