🎤Hair Ties🦎

sorry i cant hang out i forgot how to mimic human like behaviour

I've read your fics multipul times! So much so that I just... forgot to follow you (So sorry!!) But your stuff with Tonowari and Ronal is what really opened my eyes to them. did NOT know what I was missing. ngl you're turning to to Jake now too But I'd love to hear your general na'vi headcanons. I've seen you mention things like courting/courtship, sent marking, differerent instincts, stuff like that and I'd love to hear as much as you're willing to give, like anything you wanna talk about inside and outside this ask. All of it. please. If you don't mind. That stuff is like my bread and butter.

(and sorry for my spelling mistakes! I'm just not good at spelling)

this made me laugh lmao i imagine there's a lot of people who read my stuff but don't follow me, so don't worry!!

i don't know if i have a lot of general courting headcanons, but here's some of them!

courting is typically marked by a gift exchange; traditionally, a piece of jewelry. this jewelry is usually designed exclusively by the na'vi seeking a mate, but it is common for family and friends to contribute to its construction by donating beads, feathers, textiles etc. towards it. this symbolises the acceptance and support of the future bond by the future in laws

the beginning of courtship periods are often celebrated, but courting can actually take quite a long time. the na'vi mate for life, after all, and making tsaheylu with their intended mate is a sacred act, so they don't believe in rushing it. (this is what makes jake and neytiri's sudden mating so scandalous)

throughout the courtship period, gifts and acts are service are exchanged in order to prove their worth as a mate. hunters/warriors will gift their intended mates with their kills to prove they can provide for them. carved wooden figures and tools are common too, as well as textiles and clothes woven by hand.

scent is big for the na'vi! my favourite headcanon is that the na'vi are like cats, and that they have scent glands in their noses, cheeks, foreheads, and chins! so you'll see a lot of nuzzling their faces into their mate's face, neck, shoulders, etc. in order to coat them in their scent. it's a form of claiming, and it's big among courting couples who haven't yet made their mating official!

(i like to think that's what neytiri's doing below)

like please leave me alone and take a shower

When it comes to the pact marks that line your body the brothers can't help but be entranced

If you find yourself relaxing with Asmo, he has a habit of coloring them in with makeup the intricate patterns practically glow with the shimmers in the eyeshadow.

Levi can't help but stare at them at his, he still can't believe that you'd liked him enough to have a permanent reminder on your body. But he can't lie he thinks it's beautiful.

Beel loves all of them his and his brother's, a enchanting reminder that you would stay, that you chose to stay with him. He'll follow you till the ends of the earth, please let that mark remind you that he loves you.

Belphie has trouble looking at his mark. He knows what he did too you how could you want a reminder of it? But when you grabbed his hand and let him trace the pattern, he couldn't help but blush.

Satan at first had a feeling that he wouldn't like the way his mark looked. Boy, was he wrong. The intricate pattern had him entrance and enchanted. Was this really for him? It's gorgeous.

Mammon can't lie he misses when his mark was the only one that Decorated your body. But it doesn't matter his was first! And well if you ask him, his is the most beautiful after all gold always did suit you the best.

A pack mark Lucifer used to scoff at the thought. But then he saw his. The way it wrapped around your form, the slight shimmer in the intricate Linework, it just looked right on you.

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)

I like the idea that Simon has one go-to way of cheering himself up and after Johnny is down about some reprimand he decides to share it with him.

It's you. After a rough day, he shoves his face between your thighs.

He comes home with his friend, "Jawnny had a bad 'ne. Can you cheer 'im up? The way you do me?"

The look of shock doesn't go unnoticed by Johnny.

"Jus' once?" Simon curls himself around you, pecking your temple.

You're sitting with Simon at your back, running his hands down your shoulders while Johnny finds that blissful pressure of your thighs squeezing his head.

You're still clothed, he's just laying between your thighs, half asleep as you squeezing his head gently.

OM! Pet HC’s part 1!

Lucifer:

Cerberus, a tri-headed Chow. Similar in appearance to a Human World ChowChow save for his three heads, Cerberus weighs in around 10,000 kg (11 tons), and is larger than an adult African elephant. Though aggressive and cold towards strangers, Cerberus has nothing but love towards it owner, enjoying a relaxed walk, or rest along side Lucifer. Despite their good guarding skill, Cerbie is rather aloof and calm when not working.

Fire spouts from his ears eyes and mouth when in combat or when excited.

Only the main head of Cerberus is Sentient. The other two being controlled by the main head, thus Cerberus is referred to as a him rather then with they/them pronouns. The main head is primarily used for eating and drinking, with the other two heads functioning as intimidation and also used for attacking prey.

Gets along with: Lucifer, Satan, Luke.

Dislikes: Mammon

ALSO!

Yes I know canonically Cerberus is some Doberman/bully breed, but I thought I’d lean more in to the comedy aspects of OM! By making Cerbie a ChowChow, something far more fluffy, goofy and over all adorable. I still imagine them to be able to be quite intimidating, I mean even a chihuahua the size of an elephant would be scary, but I just wanted them to be a more regal yet cute dog. Plus I’m not for the framing of Bully Breeds and Doberman as “scary dogs” and so I wanted to break the stereotype of them always being intimidating hellhounds.

The Poly!141 Egg Fic

Words: ~4.4k

Tags: Poly!141, top!Price, trans!Soap, switch!Ghost, bottom!Gaz, PWP, oviposition, monster!Price, oral (m!receiving), anal, piv sex, fingering, gaping, spit, aphrodisiac come, eggs, photography, pre-mission prep, eggs, I cannot stress enough that this is an egg fic.

Summary: Price is full of eggs, thankfully he has three eager incubators ready to take them off his hands.

Price doesn't make many, doesn't make them often, but the ones he does are heavy enough to make it necessary to... extract them before missions. Honestly, any of the men making up the 141 would be lying if they said the sight of their Captain looking a little heavier, moving a little slower, didn't have them a little hard. Excitement is palpable in the air in the days leading up to deployment, each man waiting to be called to the captain's room, each man spending hours with his cock fisted in tight fingers. Too many for one person to deal with when they need to hop on a plane, but spread between three people? Well, the saying is "don't put all your eggs in one basket" for a reason.

Ghost sits on his knees, nose pressed into the thick dark curls at the base of Price's cock and drool dripping from his swollen lips. He stares up at Price, hums around the intrusion and shakes his head to try and nudge the the tip further down his throat. He sucks hard, swallows, works his tongue over the thick length. He can feel the first few eggs starting to line up. Soft jellied things that inch their way down the long thick cock on their way to his stomach. He always gets to go first, Price's second in command, the one that needs the most hand holding through the process, the one that has to swallow where the others can simply bend over. Not that Price minds. Ghost's throat works just as well, and the hard suction helps to get things moving.

The first egg works its way down his length, bulging against Ghost's tongue. Ghost bobs his head, laves his tongue against it, tries to coax it further, further, until he can push his head to the base again and swallow. The first egg stretches past his gag reflex, bulges his throat. He swallows, tries to keep the lack of oxygen from making him panic. It's just like taking a shot. Relax the throat and swallow. The gelatinous blob crawls down his throat, he can feel every slow centimeter it moves before the slick that follows seeps around the edges and slicks his throat. Then it rolls down easy and settles heavy in his stomach.

The remaining slick tingles in his throat, warms him to his core. His cheeks burn, his cock twitches eagerly. One down. Price pats his stomach, plenty more to go.

The second egg makes its way down. Again Ghost bobs his head, sucks down oxygen while he can and tries to ease the egg into his throat. His lips drag up Price's length, and the egg pops out onto his tongue. It fills his mouth, presses against his hard pallet, soft and squishy where his tongue pushes against it. Ghost wraps a hand around Price's length to stop the next one, and tips his head back. He opens his mouth to show his captain the soft jelly egg before it slips down his open throat. Price hums, his lips quirking up into a smile as he scratches his fingers through Ghost's short cropped hair. Ghost rests the tip of his cock against his tongue to let the slick that follows pool in his mouth, numbing his throat.

"Putting on quite the show lieutenant," Price rumbles. Ghost shrugs, swallows, drags his tongue from base to tip before taking him back in his mouth. Price's boot is wedged between his legs, giving his lieutenant something to grind his aching cock against while he works. Price has always been diligent in the care he gives his subordinates, pays them back properly for all they care they give him. The short cant of Ghost's hips, the flutter of the larger man's lashes, feels like a reward for that care.

Ghost's irises are swallowed by his pupils, his attention solely on the eggs that slip down Price's shaft. The only answer, if it is an answer at all, from him is to push his head down Price's cock once more. He keeps his mouth open, his tongue licking along the underside of Price's length as he slurps at it, filling the room with obscene sounds. Putting on a show, just like his Captain said.

"Steamin' 'ell," Soap groans.

"You'll get your turn," Price tells him, his fingers still stroking through Ghost's hair. His thumb moves to swipe at the slight wetness under Ghost's eye, barely there tears from the rough intrusion of his throat. Ghost swallows a third egg, his eyes locked on his captain as it bulges out his throat. "Good boy." The words, succor sweet, make Ghost's eyes roll, his hips bucking against Price's boot in response.

Ghost's eyes dart to the sergeants. Gaz's fingers are wrapped tight around his cock, head lolled to the side as he watches his lieutenant throat his captain's cock. Ghost knows he's plugged, the only one of the two that ever shows up prepared. The only one that gets to take the big eggs, the last ones in the line that make him shoot ropes of come over the floor. Drooling is a good look on him. Beside him Soap's fingers plunge into his sopping hole, diligently working to open himself up, lucky in a different respect that he has a warm cunt to hold his clutch in.

Ghost nearly chokes as a fourth egg taps his gag reflex. His eyes water, his breath coming quick through his nose as he attempts to swallow the gelatinous sphere. He whines- moans around the egg, feels Price press his boot more firmly against his cock. It's a distraction, one that makes him gag, spit pooling around the edges of his mouth, his stomach rolling at the intrusions already weighing it down. Price's eyes are firm when he meets them, unyielding. The fingers gripping his hair tighten, force him to keep his nose buried in Price's coarse pubic curls and swallow.

Price only lets him off when he's sure the egg has settled firmly in Ghost's stomach. Ghost's tongue lolls out, drool dripping off of it in thick rivulets as he pants. His eyes are still misty with unshed tears, his fatigues boasting a growing wet spot where his cock leaks against them.

"Loosen Garrick up," Price orders, patting Ghost's cheek. The lieutenant nods, and turns his attention towards Gaz, as Price wraps his own hand around his cock to halt the descent of his eggs.

One look from the captain has Soap scrambling to find his position. "Better for the Captain's back," Gaz had told him one as he'd helped him kneel on the edge of the bed. Price pushes his legs together, settles a big hand on the base of his neck to push his face into the mattress as his legs bracket Soap's. Soap reaches between his legs to spread the folds of his cunt, letting his superior officer see the slick dripping off of him. Price hums, sliding his hand down Soap's back to squeeze his ass and spread him further.

"Thought you'd want them in the back," Price confirms, his thumb stroking over Soap's tightly puckered hole. Soap swallows thickly, resists the urge to push back into the feeling, and shakes his head.

"Feels be'er," He mumbles. Another hum from Price as he inspects his sergeant's hole.

"Does it?" Price grunts, nudging the head of his cock against Soap's entrance.

"Yessir," Soap groans, feeling the burning stretch of Price's fat cock spreading him open. The pain makes his eyes roll, the heat of it coursing through his body with the roll of Price's hips. He can feel the next egg already making its way down the shaft, no longer held back by Price's tight fist and oh-so-eager to lodge itself in Soap's warm hole.

Price pulls out, leaving just the tip of his cock inside, before pushing in again. The bump of the egg stretches Soap's hole wider, and he lets out a groan. It rubs against his g-spot, pushing at his gummy walls with each stroke. Maddening. The friction of it, the pressure, makes his cunt feel hot. His cock tingles, stood at attention and begging to be touched. Soap wraps his fingers around it, giving it short strokes as he feels his folds wrapping around Price's cock. Christ he always forgets how different it feels when he takes a clutch this way. Always forgets the way slick drips and foams out of him, the way his stomach tightens and his cunt clenches greedily.

Pressure builds behind his dick, his stomach pulling tight. The way the egg pushes against his g-spot... There's no suction helping it along like with Ghost's mouth, just the repetitive motion of Price's thrusts. The soft egg slips into him as Price pulls out, nestled tight against his entrance before Price pushes it deeper with a spurt of slick. Soap's eyes roll feeling the foreign body roll against his walls, pushed tight against his cervix by Price's cock. Price circles his hips, grinding the egg against that deep aching spot inside of Soap as he waits for the next egg to drop. It shoots like electricity up his spine, tightens the molten heat behind his stomach.

Soap presses his face against the mattress in an attempt to muffle the moan the feeling punches out of him. He presses his hips back into Price's thrusts, his eyes rolling and his jaw slack as he feels Price's cock trying to push the egg deeper, forcing his cunt to accommodate both of them. He can feel the next egg catching at his entrance, trying to push its way into his clenched cunt. Price's thumb rubs at his hip, his fingers tight to hold him in place.

"Relax Sergeant," a firm reminder of his place that makes heat prickle over Soap's skin. He can almost hear the way it makes Price smile seeing his skin pink up. Price bats his fingers off his cock and wraps his own callused fingers around it, stroking him quick and dry. It hurts, Soap's moans hiccuping out of him as he tries to catch his breath. Price presses his weight down against him, forcing the arch of his back. "Can always force it," Price rumbles low in his ear.

Soap stiffens, jostle by the hard slap of Price's hips as he forces the next egg inside. He grinds his hips down into Soap, rubbing the egg against his soft spot and stroking his cock. Soap knows the wet feeling immediately, the dribble of heat out of him, the low chuckle from Price as he pulls back. He doesn't need to see the wet shine on Price's thighs, to recognize the way his muscles unspool for his Captain.

"There you go," Price patronizes, "just have to loosen you up." The second egg slides in alongside the first, a third already pushing against his entrance. It feels bigger, but it always is, a steady size increase that always leaves him and Gaz loose and dripping. This one though, Christ how long has Price been cooking these things. The way Soap clenches around the fat intrusion is involuntary, it hardly stops the egg. The squish of it doesn't make up for the way it stretches him open, or the way Price groans. It nearly locks their hips together, Price grinding his already thick cock inside of Soap as the egg makes it's slow descent into his wet channel.

Price pulls back, moaning as the egg is pulled by Soap's tight cunt. Lodged just inside his entrance, and forcing Price to pull out entirely just to deposit the thing inside of him. Soap's legs shake, the burn of being held open by the egg making heat wash over him. Price releases his cock to spread his folds with two hands, whistling low at the way his cunt gapes around the egg. Two thick finger press against the egg, forcing it to nestle itself with its siblings before those same fingers are jabbing against Soap's soft spot.

Soap tenses, feels his cunt try to clench around them with minimal success. He swears into Price's bedspread, his stomach rapidly tightening with another orgasm. It's too much, he feels loose, full and empty at the same time. The eggs are heavy, pushing against each other, pushing against his cervix, against the back of his cock, and Price's fingers are precise. He can feel his walls starting to flutter when Price shoves the full, girthy length of his cock back into his hole. The next egg popping into his stretched cunt with embarrassing ease as Price fucks him.

The fingers are around his cock again, stroking the short length as Price pushes a fourth egg into his sopping cunt. The walls of his cunt feel raw as hot slick fills the space between eggs. The warmth soaks into him, makes his limbs feel like jelly as it forces him through a second shuddering orgasm. Price's fingers grip his hair at the base, pulling his face from the bed to watch the way he sticks his tongue out for the man. Soap gets a glimpse of Ghost pulling his come covered cock from Gaz before his captain spits on his tongue and lets him collapse back on the bed. Soap rolls onto his side, pushing a hand between his legs to hold the eggs inside as Price turns his attention to Gaz.

"You're up," Price tells him, a firm hand grabbing Gaz's ankle to drag him closer.

"Can't give me a breather?" Gaz asks with a smile. Price shakes his head.

"Saved the best for ya, should be thankin' me."

“Should be thanking me for letting you put those things in me,” Gaz retorts before adding on a quick, “Captain.”

Price lets out a huff of laughter and pulls Gaz to rest in front of him, his hands pushing up under the sergeant’s knees to fold him in half. Gaz can feel the way the pressure on his stomach forces Ghost’s come out of him, the warm slick dripping down his ass. Price is quick to catch it on the head of his cock, spreading the come over Gaz’s loosened hole before pushing in. Gaz winces a little, letting out a breath as he forces his body to relax. The burn and pressure of the new stretch knocks the wind out of him. Price may not be as thick around as Ghost is normally, but with an egg already primed… Gaz shudders feeling the ridge of it, the fat knot in the middle of Price’s cock that catches on his hole. Price wastes little time grinding it into him, working his hole back to the puffy softness that Ghost had fucked it to, until the egg can slip inside. 

It happens all at once. The egg catches at the thickest point, and then slips inside in a single movement. Gaz’s eyes flutter closed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling. The egg slips over his prostate and he gasps, jerks his hips against Price’s cock and forces him deeper. The first one is always the easiest. He opens his eyes to glance at Soap watching his fellow sergeant toying with his still gaped cunt. If Soap got an egg big enough to leave him open, big enough that Ghost is eyeing him, then Gaz’ll be in for worse. The first is just a taste of what’s to come.

That doesn’t make it any easier when it finally leaves Price’s cock, when he’s filled a second time with slick. Although he thanks his lucky stars for the way Price’s slick seems to seep into him, radiating warmth that makes his cock twitch. The egg nestles itself deep inside him, just deep enough to avoid settling where he really wants it. He won’t have to worry about that for long though. The tell tale bulge of another egg forces itself against his loosened hole. Even at the small end of it, it feels bigger than the last, and given the way Price grunts, pulls his cock out to try and force the thing in, it must be. 

Gaz wraps a hand around his own cock, squeezing the base. Damn thing is drooling worse than Soap does, just the prospect of his ass being stretched out is enough to get him going, but to actually feel it happening? To feel the way Price pushes the tip of the egg against the ring of muscle that swallows his cock? It’s divine. It burns, he can feel the way his ass is opened around the girth of the egg being forced inside. He imagines the swell of it, the way his skin stretches to accommodate, how wet it all must look as he’s stretched open around the egg. Each centimeter of it is thicker and thicker, until he reaches the thickest point and Price gives that last thrust the pops the whole thing inside. Gaz’s back arches off the bed feeling the egg settle so completely inside of him. He feels loose, barely aware of Price’s cock except where his head bumps against his prostate.

The only problem is Price pulling his cock out. Gaz clenches around the egg, the intrusion holding him open and plugging him up all in one go. Price attempts to pull out, and the egg lodges itself against Gaz’s opening, unwilling to leave the warm hole it’s found itself in. Gaz whines, opens his mouth to moan as Price relents to the thing and presses his hips tight against Gaz’s, grinding the egg into him. The thick gelatinous egg makes its slow, maddeningly slow way through Price’s cock, catching against his prostate and rolling against it for what feels like ages. Gaz’s grip around his cock tightens near painfully, his teeth grit against the waves of pleasure that course through him. Fucking hell. There’s sweat starting to bead on his forehead as slick fills him, another attempt to get the egg inside. 

The last few are the hardest for his captain, Gaz knows this, knows they don’t always come out nicely. That’s all too clear with the way the next one in line already presses against his entrance. The second egg isn’t even out, still grinds down in aching pleasure against his sweet spot, and he’s supposed to take another already? Price pulls out as best he can, using Gaz’s muscles against him. Milking his cock in Gaz’s clenching ass to ease the fat egg into him. Gaz’s breath catches in his throat, chokes him as his cock dribbles pre-come over his fingers, desperate to play a part in the desperation being fed to it. Price thrusts back inside, pushing the egg deeper, and Gaz feels the next in line press painfully tight against his hole. “Captain,” Gaz gasps, his voice cracking as Price batters his sweet spot, making sparks fly over his skin. Price leans his weight onto Gaz’s legs, his grip tightening as he fucks his cock into him, trying to coax the next egg down the line. Gaz shudders, his stomach flexing, tensing and untensing under Price’s weight.

“No tapping out now Gaz,” Price grunts, “know what you signed up for.”

“Not tapping out,” Gaz let's his eyes roll back, his nails digging into Price's shoulders, “feels good, fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the molten heat in his stomach churn with each electric shock of pleasure from his prostate. Price rolls his hips, grinding against it, and the second egg finally fills him. Just in time for the next one to stretch him. He winces a little, his ass hurts, his cock twitches, the egg pushes and pushes. He’s forced open, held open by the egg. Too big to prep for, and only aided by the stretch of the last one. Lukewarm lube is dripped from the bottle in Price’s hand over his hole, only just easing the stretch. The slick heats up so quickly, warmed to near boiling by the heat of Gaz’s skin alone. The egg stops at the thickest point and holds him open.

Price’s thumb rubs against the ridges of his entrance, appreciative, and Gaz’s face burns. He wishes he could see it, wishes he could see the eggs ruining his hole the way he could watch Soap. It must be a pretty sight, his ass spread so wide around the egg’s middle he can feel it pressing under his balls. If he was on his knees he might ask for a picture, he still might. Price slides his hand back up over Gaz’s thigh, pushes it firm against his stomach and Gaz hitches a breath.

“One of you’s gonna take the whole thing eventually,” Gaz shudders, Price’s voice tugging at an unnamed greed deep in his chest, one he’s sure the rest of the team shares, “be fat with my eggs.” 

The next egg pops inside with a harsh slap of Price’s hips, and snaps the grip Gaz has on his cock. His back arches, or attempts to under Price’s hold, pleasure coursing through him as ropes of come hit his chest. Gaz moans open mouthed and needy, the sound tearing itself from his throat. His cock twitches and spits, drooling against his stomach as Price wipes it with his hand. They all know the drill, opening his mouth for his captain to help clean him up is the least Gaz can do really. Price’s fingers pushing his come into his mouth as he grinds his cock into him, easing the heavy egg down to join its siblings. Gaz’s muscles shake with the effort of maintaining position while Price abuses his insides, his tongue slick and dextrous as it works over Price’s fingers. He doesn’t need the praise that Ghost does, Gaz knows by the look in Price’s eyes that he’s good for him. 

He’s loose, gaping. He can feel the slide of Price’s cock against his rim, a friction that stirs the heat still lingering in his stomach. A whine pushes against Gaz’s lips. That can’t be all of them. He only got three, Soap and Ghost both got four. Eleven is an unlucky number, missions go south on eleven. Gaz lifts his head from the bed to look at Price, his eyes fixed on the softened planes of his captain’s stomach. He drops his head back with a sigh, fine, eleven. He lets his hands fall from Price’s shoulders, starts to get his head on.

Price gives a hard thrust into him, then another, and another. Feeling the eggs rub against his prostate is one thing but having that targeted jab to it over and over again makes his mind go fuzzy. All Gaz can do is grip the bedspread and try not to scream. It’s too much and not enough, his cock twitches with interest, still hard from the roll of the eggs inside of him, and his brain seems to melt out his ears. Then he feels it. Even just the head of it feels as big around as the last egg. Slow moving and just starting to nudge at his ruined hole. Gaz’s eyes go wide and his breathing quickens, his lips already moving in a needy, “yes, yes, yes, please captain, please.”

The egg presses so tightly against his hole that it shortens Price’s movements, his thrusts getting shallow as the egg attempts to invade Gaz’s body. He tries to angle his hips, to push into the feeling, but Price holds him down. Gravity works to his advantage, the head of the egg just nudging into him, only to pop out on the next move of Price’s hips. Gaz whines, it feels pathetic, it feels good. He whines as the egg stretches him a little and leaves, stretches and leaves, over and over as it slowly works more and more of itself in with each thrust. He can feel the weight of it, the unyielding mass of the thing. Bigger than any Gaz has taken so far, maybe the biggest he’s ever taken. He wants it, wants to be ruined by it, to have his ass stretched for days afterwards so his captain(and perhaps the lieutenant and sergeant he works with too) can fuck him again. He wants to feel the splitting stretch to worry that he might need to see medical.

The egg spreads him wider and wider, each thrust of Price’s hips battering it against Gaz’s overworked hole as he chases the end of his release. Stretch and relax, stretch and relax, Gaz’s head spins with the warm ache of it, the shallower and shallower thrusts as the heavy egg moves down Price’s shaft. And pops inside of him in one sharp movement that has Gaz screaming, his cock dribbling out a second round of ruined come as his legs shake. His body pulls tight and he sees stars, feeling the rush of Price’s come fill him. The warmth of it burns against his insides, sinking into his muscles until he’s left pliant and hazy. 

Price pulls out, and almost as quickly is prodding at his hole with his fingers. Gaz feels held open, but that’s not from the hand inspecting him, it’s from the fat egg that Price pushes deeper inside of him. Price hauls his leg over to the side, flipping Gaz onto his stomach. He holds a hand out to Soap.

“He’ll want a picture of this,” the smile in Price’s voice makes fresh heat bloom over Gaz’s skin as he dutifully pushes up onto his knees. The snap of a phone camera could make him eager for another round if he wasn’t so focused on the way that last egg was rolling to meet its siblings. Four. Four was a good number. Price tosses Soap’s phone onto the bed next to Gaz’s head and he quickly grabs for it, staring down at the way his usually tight hole holds itself open to let everyone see his pink insides. Greedy for more, Gaz thinks to himself, zooming in to try and get a look at the egg inside of him. He’ll be putting that one in the group chat.

“Right,” Price grunts, “grab your rucks, plane won’t wait forever.”

“Cannae wait for me to get mah pants oan?” Soap jokes, swatting away Ghost’s hand. Price hums.

“Might wait that long.”

IM SHAKINH PLEADE WTOYE GOR SALLY FACR

YESSS 🫡🫡 I love writing for Sally Face, so this was something I had very fun writing around with🫶🤭

~~~

What would be their type of love language? {Sally Face Headcanons}

~ Sal Fisher ~

Physical touch

- He melts into your touch like a cat laying in the sun.

- He was very awkward with the first touch of anything hugs, kisses, hand holding, cuddles, and so on and so forth.

- Only growing more and more comfort in your overall aura.

- Holding hands or minimum pinky while walking and in public, feeling some sort of safety when having you close and being able to easily reach out if anything.

- This also happens with his lack of physical touch of growing up after his mother's passing.

- When your cuddles give him a sense of stability, even more so when waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. (sadly often so)

- The very first time your hands gently cupped his unmasked face, tears streamed down his face, warmth of someone's touch felt healing after such a long time.

Acts of service

- Loved to do even the simplest of tasks for you

- Would help with folding laundry, wash the dishes, making your bed

- Every task turned into a duo project with him around. He refused to let you do chores or anything in the matter of fact alone.

- You're doing the dishes, he finds out and boom he is next to you drying the dishes

- Even bringing you small little snacks or drinks as he noticed your lack of intake for the day

- Legit, if anything can make your day even just a little easier, he simply just does it.

~ Larry Johnson ~

Quality time

- You want to spend alone time in your room? Think again it's alone time WITH Larry in your room

- Even if there was no speaking or interaction as he could be painting and you doing who knows what

- Knowing you we're there, knowing he isn't alone only made him fall more in love with you. (If that's even possible?)

- Larry has to go to the store for his mother? He will drag you along with him.

- Jumps at any chance to have you by his side, even for a mere moment.

- Of course, if you genuinely need space, he respects it and comes back when you feel better. Just know he'll be a tiny bit clingy for the next hours or so depending on how long the time separated was.

Words of affirmation

- This man has a way with words like no other. It's almost as if he has been practising for this very moment

- Coming up behind you with no warning, giving you a compliment

- Daily reminds you how proud he is of you for doing your absolutely best, knowing there are hard times for everyone at many moments of their life

- When in more of a public places he can come up with a few smaller comments such as "You've truly been helpful all day." Or "Thank you for being here with me" and words such alike these.

- Now, when we talk more of private settings, he'll get more personal and sentimental. "You make every moment we spend feel like a breath of fresh air." Or "I am truly the luckiest boyfriend, with someone like you on my side"

~~~

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