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#reader x cod
random0lover · 11 months
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Hello !! Am I allowed to request for maybe all of 141 (If possible with your schedule !! I undestand if its not !!) or just Price and Ghost (separate) with a reader whos a military kid so theyre kinda just used to them going away for long periods of time with deployment. Bonus points if they werent aware of reader being a military kid till they break down and confess as to how abandoned and angry they feel when they leave :,)) Fluffy Hurt/Comfort thats SFW, please :)) Thank you ^^
TF141 x Gn!Reader That Was a Military Kid
Pairings: John Price x gn!reader & Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Angst with Comfort, SFW, reader is mean, talk of parental death, crying, reader is called: sweetheart, love, dove. Hints at depression, John and Simon are both big softies for reader, established relationships. That should be it! Let me know if I missed any <3
Things to know: Some hc’s with mini fic parts. Should be Gn!reader as I tried to avoid talking about readers body or anything that could indicate anything other than gn!reader! Also POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡, Also a warning to anyone that decides to follow me- if you do not have your age in your bio or a pinned post I will block you… just a fair warning.
Notes: Thank you for requesting this anon! I loved the idea so much so I hope this does your request justice! I kinda went a little soft with the Price one because for some reason I can’t stand the thought of reader being mean to that sweet man (if you want though send me another request and I can write one that’s more angst filled 😊) although I did bring out the reader being angry in Simons. Another thing, I wrote this for Simon and not ghost but if you want I can write another one that has reader dealing with Ghost but be warned it will be angsty with lots of hurt from both parties! Sorry if the editing is bad I did try though lol and there will be more parts to this!
Tags: @homicidal-slvt (promised I’d tag you so here we are)
Price & Simon (You’re here!), Soap & Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy & König
(I will add the links as I post each part!)
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John Price
-I feel like he may have wondered if you were a military kid since you didn’t seem to be phased by him having to leave so often
-There were other things that also made him wonder, like how you always made your bed in the mornings, how schedules were majorly important to you to the point that if you knew you were going to be late, you'd get majorly upset, and how you also seemed to understand military lingo up to a certain point. He never asked though since you didn’t talk about your childhood much so he just figured that if you wanted to tell him that you would -But he started to notice that lately, you started to seem off when you found out he would have to be deployed soon.
~~
John had been awake since the early hours of the morning. He couldn't seem to get much sleep in the few days before his next deployment. He had left the warmth of your shared bed before even the morning birds could be heard outside, hoping not to wake you with his restlessness, but little did he know that you hadn't slept at all.
By the time you stumbled out of bed with bags under your eyes and your mind feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep and your own brain tearing itself apart, it was well past 10 a.m., which wasn’t the most unusual for you, but on the day before John would be deploying it was a little odd since usually you were up trying to help him get his stuff together and would make a huge breakfast since you both weren’t sure how long it would be until he would get to enjoy a home-cooked meal again.
You had hoped to get to the kitchen and make yourself a cup of coffee before seeing John, but he was standing at the fridge, putting groceries away from multiple brown paper bags.
You made your way to the coffee pot that seemed to have a fresh pot being made and got a cup from the cabinet before he started to talk, “I noticed we were getting low on some things so I thought I’d save you a trip to—,” he pauses, causing you to turn to face him, “Sweetheart?”
You were pressing your hands into your eyes, trying to relieve the aching pressure that was remaining consistent behind them, when he made his way across the kitchen and gently cupped your cheeks, “Are you feeling alright, love?”
You didn’t mean to do it, but you flinched away from his hands, taking a few steps back so that there was some distance between you both. You could see the hurt in his eyes before they were overcome with confusion and you hated that he was looking at you as if you were a skittish kitten that would run at the smallest movement.
He reaches an arm out slowly, as if to not startle you.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head, pulling your arms tight around you, and try to focus on keeping your breathing calm, like your parents taught you when you were little.
He takes a small step forward so that his fingers are almost grazing your arm but stops when sees you curling in on yourself, “Sweetheart, something is obviously wrong. You're crying, and your body is shaking.”
“Hey,” you finally look up into his eyes, “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but at least let me help you.”
Your heart breaks from the pain you can see in his eyes. In all the time you've been together, you’ve never pulled away from him like this. Usually, you were the one open about your emotions and what you were feeling while having to coax John into telling you what was going on in his mind, “Please, darling.”
You let yourself fall into his open arms at that point, sobbing into his neck. He presses you against his chest, gently speaking into your ear, assuring you that everything is fine, that he is here for you, and that he will always be there.
You mumble into his neck, causing him to gently pull you back so that he can hear you: “What was that, sweetheart?”
You try to concentrate on the sensation of his calm heartbeat against your chest before finally saying, "My parents promised me the same thing."
He pulls away, puzzled, and you notice him looking at you in the corner of your eye, so you burrow your face into his chest and say, "They were both military. They died when I was 14," you finish, taking a deep breath. “They were deployed together when it happened… They said that it was an accident, that my mom got stuck on a timed land mine, and my dad wouldn’t leave her no matter what.”
"Oh, love." You feel his body tense before relaxing.
He gently grips the back of your neck and pulls you back so that you're looking into his eyes; the softness in them is almost enough to send you running as far as possible so that you never have to feel the type of pain that you did the day that you found out your parents died.
“Love, I'm not going anywhere,” you go to speak but he shushes you, “You are my world, the person I’m fighting for.”
He brings his hand under your chin so that he is gripping it gently and says, “You are the reason I’m still alive. The reason why I feel like life is still worth living and fighting for.”
He tips his head down so that his lips are grazing yours, “I’ll always come home, love.”
You push forward so that your lips are fully pressing against his, then he pulls back, “Why don’t we go take a bath, get you feeling better?”
~~~~
The next morning you wake frantically looking around, hoping that he didn’t leave without saying goodbye, when he walks in carrying a tray of food, “John? I thought you had to leave this morning.”
He smiles gently, his eyes lighting up, “Called Kate, they don’t actually need me for another week, and I figured my love needs me a little bit more than my job at the moment.” He sets the tray down on the bed, and you jump into his arms with a happy squeal, “I love you, John.”
"I love you too, sweetheart," he says as he gently kisses you.
~
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
-So we all know Simon is amazing at reading people, but I don’t think he would know that you were a military kid. He could see all the signs that you may have had a difficult childhood, but he personally knows what it’s like to have a childhood you don’t want to talk about, so he never has and never will question you about your past. -Pasts are a hard topic for Simon in the first place, so I could honestly see him being a bit grateful that you didn’t share the bad parts of your childhood, meaning that he also didn’t have to share his. It was almost a silent agreement between you both to not talk about the negative parts of things unless one of you came to the other wanting to talk about it.
~~~~
Back to him being great at reading people: He could tell that over the past few days, your body language had been changing, becoming more standoffish. Not being as open to cuddling and kisses, not even wanting him to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you, which you usually loved.
He figured that maybe you were just having a few rough days, which was normal for anyone; hell, he knew he had them quite often, and you were always there for him no matter how bad they got, so he wanted to do the same for you.
Today had been the worst day of all, though. You were almost refusing to talk to him completely unless it was one-word answers, which he was able to roll with pretty easily. You would move rooms almost every time he would come in, not even saying anything, just picking up your things and going.
This made him decide on leaving you alone for the most part, other than when he would bring you a fresh cup of tea or was just checking in on you. So he decided on cleaning up the house a little bit, he was going to be deploying again in a week and he wanted to help however he could, knowing that it was a rough transition from having him around to it being an empty house again.
He had just finished cleaning the dishes when he looked at the time and decided on ordering out for dinner, which would hopefully raise your mood a bit and it would also be an easy enough mess to clean up. He found you in the living room watching a movie on Netflix with a blanket wrapped tightly around you and stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring you when you paused it.
When you snap at him, "What do you want, Simon?" Your eyes aren't even on him but on your phone, which is on your lap.
He feels his eye twitch but he keeps himself calm and makes sure that it shows in his tone that your attitude is leaving him unaffected, “I was just goin’ to ask what you wanted for takeout, love.”
You huff and try to pull yourself up from the couch while also trying to unwrap the blanket from around you, almost falling, but Simon rushes forward and straightens you up, but you quickly pull away.
You look at him with fury in your eyes, “Can't you just leave me the hell alone?” Your voice is rising slightly, and your face is flushed with rage. “It’s what you constantly do anyway!”
You can see Simon's eyes widen, but you don't care; the words are just spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them, "You're never actually here when I need you, but when you are, you can't take the fucking hint of when I just want you to leave me alone!"
"Sometimes Simon," you pause, feeling the tears flood into your vision, making the floor blurry, "I wonder why I even stay when you are just going to end up hurting me exactly like he did," you whisper, staring hard at the ground, your chest puffing in and out quickly, trying to pull in air after your large outburst.
The words come out in a whisper, the room becoming so silent that you can almost hear the gears in his head turning, wondering who the hell you were talking about.
You hear him take a step forward on the wood flooring, his voice incredibly soft, “Dove.”
You look up through the tears and see his hands reaching out for you, and for the first time in all the time you two have been together, Simon Riley almost looks scared—not scared of you but as if his world was coming apart.
When his hand gently touches your arm, it pulls you out of your stupor, making you pull away, frantically shaking your head, “Don’t touch me.”
The words come out shaky and broken, but they make him freeze nonetheless, and you can see in his eyes that he’s trying to pull himself together, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do in a situation like this.
He takes a small step back, his gaze fixed on yours, and he holds his hands out in front of him, as if to demonstrate that he is not a threat. "Okay, I won't touch you." He comes to a halt, seeing the fear in your eyes, the look of a frightened animal ready to flee at any moment. "It's okay, love, everything's fine-"
He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're flying down the hallway, grabbing your bag from the hooks by the front door and bolting out the door, slamming it loudly behind you, leaving him standing halfway down the hallway, his mouth slack-jawed, unsure of what the hell just happened.
~~~
After nearly ten minutes of fast walking, you finally slowed down and stopped in the nearest store to clean your face of tear marks and, hopefully, make yourself look presentable. You sent a quick text to Simon, letting him know that you were safe and that you didn't know when you'd be back. You left your phone on long enough to see him read the message and the text bubble pop up before you shut the phone completely off and tucked it into the bottom of your bag.
You spent the next two hours wandering aimlessly, wondering if you'd just ruined your relationship with the only man you'll ever love, when you came across the small Italian restaurant where Simon had taken you on your first date. You remember the way you tried to pay for your half of the dinner, but he quickly slipped his card to the waitress before you could even argue, saying something about how if you decided not to go on a second date with him, you deserved to at least get a free meal from it, and you teased him by asking him if there was a reason you shouldn't want to go on another date with him.
The memories make your stomach queasy, making you want to kick yourself in the back for being so stupid, but you walk in and order your and Simon's favorite dishes and try to keep the food as warm as possible on your walk back to your shared home. One side of you hopes you’ll find him there, not an empty house, and the other side wants to avoid this conversation for as long as possible.
You walk up the steps, and most of the house seems to be dark except for the living room, where a single light is on. You unlock the door and try as quietly as possible to slip your shoes off while also trying not to drop the food.
You make your way towards the living room to find Simon sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. You look over to the coffee table and see bags with your favorite restaurant's logo tied off, trying to keep the heat in the bags, making your heart ache with the fact that he still thought of you after you treated him like complete trash.
He was the first man ever to treat you with so much love. Even while he was deployed, he was making efforts to show you that he cared, like scheduling a delivery of your favorite flowers to show up on your day off with a little note, paying for over a month's worth of your order at your favorite coffee shop, and bringing back little trinkets from the places he was deployed too.
You knew him being deployed wasn’t his fault; it was part of his job. You knew he wasn't your dad and that it wasn't Simon’s fault that the man who was supposed to love you treated you as if you weren't even his child but rather just another one of his soldiers.
It wasn’t his fault that your dad wouldn't be home for months on end; it wasn’t his fault that the last time you ever saw your dad, you told him you hated him for never being home; it wasn't his fault that the day your dad was supposed to come home from a four-month deployment, instead of hearing him come home, there were four hard knocks on the door; it wasn't his fault that two soldiers were standing at the door; it wasn’t his fault that they were holding a folded-up flag with your dad’s military dog tags on them.
It. Wasn’t. His. Fault.
Yet you treated him as if it were. You didn't know which was worse, the fact that he didn't already know about what happened to your dad or the fact that you wished he did so that he could have a reason to hate you for lashing out.
You step into the room, setting the food you got by the food he ordered. “Simon?”
He doesn’t move for a second, then he looks up at you, and you feel your heart shatter for the umpteenth time tonight. “Oh, Simon,” you whisper, moving so that you’re standing in front of him and drop down onto your knees, “I am so fucking sorry. I don't even have the words to tell you how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you… I should’ve just talked to you instead of letting it build up.”
You move your hands up to gently cradle his face in both your hands and connect your eyes with his molten ones, which usually provided you with comfort. Now, though, all you can see is the look he gave you after you yelled at him, “I— I never should have let my feelings bottle up about me being upset about you having to be gone. I know it's not your fault. I knew what I was getting myself into when we made things official all those years ago. I knew what your job would bring before then; I made the choice to be with you. I'll never regret that.’’
You move your eyes across his face, trying to gauge his emotions, but you get nothing.
“Si, baby?” you whisper.
His eyes move away from you. “Who were you talking about when you said I'm just going to hurt you like he did?’’
You look away, your eyes settling on a loose string on his pants. “I was talking about my dad.” You take a deep breath before continuing, knowing that you have to tell him, “H– He was military like you.”
His hand reaches out to gently lift your chin, bringing your gaze to his. “He died,” you continue, “He died and the last time I ever saw him, I told him I hated him because he was always gone. He…I let him go that day without saying goodbye or telling him I loved him, and the next time I saw him, his body was in a casket."
"Love," he says with a gentle frown.
"No, Simon," you say, shaking your head. Just because I’m scared—no, fucking terrified—of that happening again with you doesn't give me the right to treat you that way. I am so sorry.”
He leans back in the couch and pulls you up into his lap; once you're comfortable, he brings his hands up so that one is cupping your cheek and the other trails down your arm to hold your hand. "Dove, I know what it's like to lose family. I know what it can do to you. I understand that pain more than you know. Pain like that is unlike anything else.”
Tears well up in your eyes, and you blink them away quickly before they fall. "You've lost family, too?"
He nods gently, and you can see deep emotions that seemed to have been buried for a long time beginning to surface. “My mum, my younger brother Tommy, and his wife Beth.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they are filled with unshed tears. “My nephew Joseph.”
You can feel the back of your throat starting to burn from keeping your tears in, but you push your forehead against his anyway. “Simon.”
He looks into your eyes before whispering, “I wish I could tell you it would stop hurting eventually, but I can’t. I’m not going to lie to you and say I’ll always make it back home to you; that's not something I can guarantee, but one thing I can promise is that I will always try my damn hardest to make it back. I will always fight with everything in my soul to make it back to you.”
Tears are softly running down your face at this point, falling to land on Simon’s hoodie. “I love you so much, sweets. I never want to lose you.”
You let out a choked cry before you kissed him gingerly, and you could taste the saltiness of your tears mixed in with all the flavors that reminded you of Simon. Of home.
“I love you so much too, Si.”
He leans in to kiss you again with a light press of his lips to yours before he pulls away and looks at the forgotten food on the coffee table and lets out a light chuckle, “I see we both had the same idea.”
You let out a shaky laugh and nod your head before snuggling your head into the warm crook of his neck. He runs a large hand up and down your back, slowly stopping at the bottom to rub gentle circles into a spot that usually bothers you. "Well, why don’t we eat, and maybe in the morning we can talk a little bit more.”
Yawning into his neck, you pull back and ask, “Can we finish the movie I was watching earlier? It was just getting to the good part before I stopped it.”
He nods, and you excitedly get out of his lap to get your blanket and the TV remote before he pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so that he can start opening the containers. Once you start the movie, you look over to Simon to find him already watching you with a soft look, and all you can think is how thankful you are to have found a man who loves you through all your faults and you through his.
You were grateful for ever getting the chance to be loved by Simon Riley, a man who truly believed that he couldn’t love and that he wasn’t worth loving. You knew that it would probably take your whole lives to heal from the things you've both been through, but as long as you were together, that was all that mattered.
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Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this hc for Price and Simon! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. <3
Requests are open so feel free to send in some! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡
895 notes · View notes
mcntsee · 12 days
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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rowarn · 8 months
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EXPERIENCE (m.)
könig x inexperienced!reader
tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn
cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting
note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!
;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man
9.5k
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When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 
You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 
He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 
On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 
He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 
You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 
The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 
By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 
“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 
“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.
“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”
You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 
You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 
You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 
“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.
“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 
He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 
You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 
“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”
“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”
That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.
“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 
“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 
“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”
“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”
You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 
You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 
You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 
So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 
But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 
At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 
As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 
The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 
You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 
You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 
As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 
“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”
The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.
‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 
Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 
You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 
You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 
He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.
“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 
“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 
“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 
“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”
He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 
But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.
“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 
He doesn’t respond. 
Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 
It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 
The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 
Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 
Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.
“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.
“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 
You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 
The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 
You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 
“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.
“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”
He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 
A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 
It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”
“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”
“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”
He frowns at you, “Something silly?”
“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 
He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.
Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 
But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.
“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”
You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.
“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 
You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”
Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 
“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”
You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 
He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 
It’s for the best, he assures himself. 
It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 
It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 
You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 
König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 
But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 
You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.
But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 
You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 
Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 
As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.
You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.
“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.
He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”
He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”
“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 
You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.
It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 
After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 
He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.
“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 
“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 
He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”
That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.
“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”
By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 
But he doesn’t.
It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 
The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 
You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 
König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.
But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 
He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 
“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”
“Should we?” you quip back.
He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 
“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”
He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.
“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”
The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”
“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”
“So you mentioned before…” you reply.
“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”
“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”
“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.
“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”
He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”
“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 
“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”
“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”
“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”
You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”
He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”
You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 
You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 
With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.
You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 
“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.
“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”
“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”
He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”
You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 
The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 
He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 
He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 
“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”
You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 
You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 
Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.
He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 
“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”
That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”
“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 
He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”
He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 
“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.
“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”
You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 
After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 
However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.
“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.
You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 
König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 
His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 
“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”
You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 
“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”
You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 
He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.
You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.
You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.
You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 
“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.
“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.
“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 
“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”
You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 
He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 
He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”
You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 
“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.
You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.
“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.
He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.
Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.
You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 
His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.
“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”
You clumsily nod your head.
“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.
“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.
He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”
“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.
“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.
You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 
“Tell me,” he says.
You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”
He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 
“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.
König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.
“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”
Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 
He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”
“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”
You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.
He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 
“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”
You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”
“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.
“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”
You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.
He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 
“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.
He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”
When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 
“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”
“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 
“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”
You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 
“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”
The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.
“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”
“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”
He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.
The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 
“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”
“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.
“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”
You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 
“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”
He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.
“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.
“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”
As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 
“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”
You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.
Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”
He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.
“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”
“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”
“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”
“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 
You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 
Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 
You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 
“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”
He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.
Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 
Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.
But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.
The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 
“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.
You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”
He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”
“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.
“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”
The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 
“W-Wait!” you wail.
“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.
“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 
“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”
Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 
“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”
“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.
It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 
He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”
You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.
You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.
“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”
“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.
“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.
You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.
“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.
You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 
It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.
“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”
You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”
He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” you agree.
The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 
“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.
He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”
You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”
He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”
You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.
property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.
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cntloup · 16 days
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18+ MDNI Simon fucking you in a headlock
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You've been obsessed with his arms since day one.
And you finally asked him to do what you wanted for a while.
He made sure that you were comfortable, asking multiple times if you were ok.
And you breathed out 'yes' eagerly each time.
And now here you are as he fucks into your sopping pussy while having you in a headlock, thick veiny arm wrapped around your neck.
The burly mass of muscles puts enough pressure to make you dizzy, increasing the already intense pleasure of his fat cock splitting your weeping cunt open.
His other hand reaches around your body and lands on your sensitive puffy clit, rough fingers circling and pinching it while his wide hips slap against your rear with each ferocious plunge into you.
"You gonna be a good girl and cum f'me?" he grunts into your ear as he feels the ever increasing pressure of your pulsating pussy on his cock.
And you can only hum in response, the razing pleasure too much to bear, too much to let you form any coherent words.
You hold on to his strong arm wrapped around you, nails digging into his bicep and forearm, surely leaving crescent marks on his skin.
The delightful mix of sweet sensations, the aching drag of his thick cock along your sensitive walls repeatedly with the dizzying pleasure of his arm around your neck,
while his swollen red tip viciously attacks your gummy cervix and his calloused fingertips rub against your puffy clit send you to a state of pure engulfing euphoria.
And streams of your juices and cream gush out of you as you let out hiccupped moans, blended with his low growl of sheer pleasure as he fills up your welcoming womb with his seed.
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ghostly-whiskey · 11 days
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simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.
and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.
bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.
your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.
you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.
again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!
and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:
p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.
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You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”
He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”
“I want a big mac.”
He groans louder. 
“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”
He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”
You almost tear up. 
When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”
You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”
He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 
He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 
“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”
“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”
“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 
“Do ya think he’ll like me?”
“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
He leans down, kissing your belly. 
“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”
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ghouljams · 1 month
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Everyone wants Ghost to fuck the life outta them until he's been hitting you just right for the last 20 minutes and won't let up. Until he's fucking you like he's in the last stretch of pumps before he comes and you can barely breath with how hard he's fucking you. Until you're sobbing into the sheets because he keeps telling you, "Just one more love" but it's never just one more. Until he fucks you through his own orgasm and doesn't stop for breath. Until he's pinned you under his weight and wrapped a hand around your neck, pulling you up from where you're drooling against the mattress so he can hear all the pretty noises you make.
It's all fun and games until you actually see God and they look an awful lot like Simon Riley.
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tacticalprincess · 1 month
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simon and könig being unable to stop bickering for a second, even when they’re balls deep inside of you. they’ve got you in an Eiffel Tower, könig’s cock filling your glossy pussy while simon stuffs your mouth. it took ages of convincing for them to even consider this position, but eventually they decided to put their discrepancies aside for the sake of you, their precious, spoiled little thing. it didn’t last very long though…
“jackhammer much, mate? you’ve got her choking on me over here.” simon points out, his heavy hand stroking your hair soothingly. könig’s using your hips as leverage, bucking into you at a rabid pace, each of his thrusts lurching your body forward and forcing you to take more of simon’s dick down your poor throat. “what happened to treatin’ the princess with care?”
“it’s okay, she likes it. isn’t that right, maus?”
your cheeks warm up as you hum around simon’s dick noncommittally. nothing gets passed the l.t though, and suddenly he’s gripping you by your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock.
“wait, you let him fuck your face?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended.
you wipe the line of spit that trails from your swollen lips all the way to his still hard dick, hovering just out of reach. you huff. “he’s more sadistic than you…” you say sheepishly in response, voice staccato from könig’s thrusts.
“you tellin’ me i’m the soft sex guy? the aftercare fuck?”
“‘s alright, mate.” könig reaches over your naked body to pat his comrade on the shoulder. “youve got boyfriend dick. happens to the best of us.”
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deunmiu-dessie · 28 days
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pillow princess!reader who decides that they want to try being on top for once and anchors their small hands on ghost's chest, bouncing sloppily on his cock and whimpering at his praise. “that’s it. good girl, just like that.” pillow princess!reader who pants in small, short puffs, cheeks flushing red and legs cramping. pillow princess!reader whose movements start to get slower just when they're on the brink of cumming. “ i c-can't, m’tired, si.” bf!simon who rumbles deep in his chest at your whiney complaint, "ah, fuckin' hell." bf!simon who grabs the fat of your hips and fucks up into you, hard and fast, gravelly voice mocking. "look at you, can't even fuckin' ride me properly." bf!simon who simpers at your scrunched up face and bleary eyes, mouth open to let out pitiful sobs. "m' sorry, d-daddy--mmn!" he chuckles softly, "'s alright, pet. " ˙ᵕ˙
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ - 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓂𝑒! ⁽ nsfw ⁾
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mrsariariley · 1 month
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ghost and his tiny gf !
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
simon riley, who is huge! he takes up half of the couch - but when he manspreads? you cant even see the couch under his enormous body!
simon riley, who has to bend down when entering a room otherwise he'll hit his head on the doorframe. he can't possibly live without a high ceiling!
and simon's girlfriend..
a tiny little thing, has hardly ever grown! youre so small, simon has to bend down to kiss you. simon has to lean down slightly to hold your hand - and even then, you can only wrap your hands over 3 large fingers!
when you wear his clothes, it pretty much fits as a blanket!
when the boys from the force first laid eyes on you, they were just so shocked. ghost? as in big lieutenant riley? with a small thing like you? no way!
simon loves seeing his girl all curled up on the bed when he gets home, hardly even taking up half. he loves seeing you nuzzle your face into his big chest when he wraps his large arms around your tiny frame, warming you up instantly.
but, he would be a liar if he said it didnt turn him on.
seeing you whimper and whine when he pushes half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, writhing and letting out small sobs of pleasure.
"mmf.. s-si..!! it wont fiitt!!" youd whine through slutty sobs.
"y'r taking me so well, doll.. y' can do it."
and when he does fit it all in, youre just a mess under him. completely braindead and rambling nonsense about how it just feels too good, and he's too big! all drool and tears :(
but dont worry, he'd be so good to you !
finishing inside of you and pulling out, removing his head from the crook of your neck. he'd kiss all up your body, leaving red hickeys that will eventually turn purple. he'd wipe away your tears, leaving you to rest as he runs you a bath.
and then, when youre back in bed, exhausted, he'll snuggle you into him - youd never sleep any better.
-
do not re-publish OR translate my work !
mdni / masterlist
a/n: first post kinda nervous !
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random0lover · 1 year
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Her Past Is Their Torture
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: Angst/No Comfort (yet), SFW, talk of death, readers fake funeral is mentioned, fake identity is mentioned, healing wound referenced, A gun is mentioned one time, words "terrorist group" is used once, nothing to serious!
Things to know: reader themself is never referenced looks wise so this is POC friendly! Also if you decide to follow me after reading, READ MY PINNED POST, thank you ♡
Notes: I wrote this in 3 hours after not writing anything for a while, so I hope this is okay! This somehow is getting turned into a mini-series, but I cannot make any promises on how fast each part will come out, but it will be a happy ending!! Kind of proof read but not really so sorry for any errors <3
Part 1 Part 2 (You’re here!)
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You were not supposed to be alive. Your heart had stopped while you were lying in the arms of the man you loved but somehow you were alive sneaking your way through the base that you used to call home. 
Today was the day of your funeral, a month after the incident, you knew it would be your only chance to make it onto base to grab a few of your main keepsakes from your room, and no matter how bad of an idea it was, you wanted to stop in Simon’s room one last time. 
Laswell didn't know you were here as far as she knew you were on your way to pick up everything to complete your temporary new identity. A 24-year-old from the States wanting to get some traveling in after completing nursing school before going back home to start their job as an ER nurse. Enough information to satisfy anyone that wanted to have a chat but nothing that would be too memorable. 
Kate was the first person you saw after you woke up in a room that was decorated with floral designs that reminded you of the worn couch that sat in your grandmother's living room until the day she passed away. She told you that your getting shot that night wasn’t a coincidence and that the same people you've spent the last few years running from were once again coming after you.
 Before you became part of Task Force 141 you had previously been part of a different unit, one that now has no evidence of existing after a mission that went haywire. You had all been tasked to eradicate a terrorist group that had supposedly made threats to multiple governments not knowing that you were not the first unit being sent in, that it was a death wish going after them. You and your captain had been the only ones to survive at first until four months later you woke in the middle of the night to a frantic phone call from him saying that they were going to come for you next, the sound of a shotgun being cocked, then the line went dead. Not ten minutes later you had packed a bag and were getting ready to go out the backdoor when you heard your front door being kicked in, if it hadn't been for your captain making that call you would've been dead too.
From that day you spent two years running, going everywhere from China to The United States, to Poland, to Japan, anywhere you could hide until Kate had you staying in the UK which is when she introduced you to Captain John Price and you officially became part of task force 141. Price was the only one that knew your full story until you told Simon but you never got the chance to tell him that you might have to keep running one day. That the people that were after you would only show up to try and kill you to then disappear without a trace until they decided to come after you again.
You had become too comfortable, too hopeful that they were not going to come after you again, that maybe it was all over but the healing bullet wound in your side states otherwise.
You shake your head to get out of your thoughts and continue to make your way through the base while keeping your head down.
~~**~~
This morning you had watched to make sure all of the task force members had left so that you didn't risk running into any of them. You had already been to your room making sure to grab the necklace Soap and Gaz had gifted you on your birthday last year, the little notebook Soap would doodle in when he would sit in your room with you, the t-shirt you had stolen from Simon’s closet, and a coffee mug that Price had jokingly given you that said “dad’s favorite”. 
You knew it was all pointless stuff but the little things had always meant the most to you especially when it was things that people that were as close to family as you'll get had given you.
Walking through the men's barracks would not be a good idea usually but today they were mostly barren for obvious reasons. You quickly made it to Simon’s room having to resist stopping in Gaz’s room and staying focused. Oddly enough the door was unlocked but you didn’t think much of it, mainly just thanking the stars that you got lucky enough that he forgot.
You make your way into the room gently shutting the door behind you and move until you're standing beside his bed closing your eyes for a moment taking a deep breath, taking in the smell of pine and cedar mixed with notes of vanilla and a small hint of smoke. 
You open your eyes and finally let your eyes drift across the room. The room itself is completely clean not a thing out of place almost as if it hadn't been touched since the morning before that last mission what catches your attention though is the small desk in the corner that is currently the dirtiest you've ever seen it, covered in a few stacks of paperwork, mugs that have dried-out tea bags in them, and not so shockingly your file. It was sitting on top of everything else but you could tell from the creases and a few dirt stains in the manilla folder that it had been opened multiple times and maybe even thrown or dropped a few times. 
You feel in your pocket for the folded note that you had written the night before and pull it out. You stare at it for a moment before opening the folder and sliding it in between some papers at the bottom of the stack hoping that he’ll find it. As soon as you close the folder you hear some voices coming down the hallway and make your way towards his closed closet waiting to see if you’ll need to hide. You hear the voice fade and let out the breath you were holding until you see the door handle turning and frantically throw yourself into the closet hiding behind his clothes and trying to shut the door.
Simon comes into your view for a moment and you see him looking around the room, you hear him let out a sigh before taking a deep breath and you see his body go rigid, you freeze hoping he didn’t hear you, and hear him sniff again almost as if he smells something weird. He turns towards the closet and you can see his eyes settle on the door, you want to slap yourself for not making sure to close it all the way and suck in a breath as he takes a step forward reaching out to open the door but before he can you hear his door open again.
“You got that file you were looking for Lt.?” Soap asks from the doorway.
Simon looks at the closet door one more time before turning to the desk and grabbing the file, “Yeah Johnny, let’s go.” 
You wait in the closet for another five minutes before you decide that it’s safe to venture out and quickly make your exit, locking the door behind you before you sneak off base. 
As soon as you reach your car the burner phone that was in the center console starts ringing the screen saying ‘GREEN’ in big bold letters meaning that it’s Kate. You pull out the phone and answer it while starting the car. “Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”
 “I'm almost there Kate, I’ll be there soon. Promise.” You sigh before hanging up.
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Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed the second part to Open Wounds and War Paint! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. &lt;3
As of right now I have a few requests, but requests are open! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡
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emoelvin · 1 month
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bigguyenthusiast · 2 months
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COD P★ LINKS
Yawll……dis is horny… so like fair warning
John price
Price tying you up after he catches you disobeying him by touching yourself :(
Overstimulation with John <3
Price eating you out after a loooooong mission
More price eating pussy (the guy LITERALLY looks like him or am I tripping)
Since you like using them so much, this shouldn’t be a punishment for you, correct ?
John getting you to ride his thigh
Theres a reason why they’re his favourite
Kyle Garrick
Gaz after ruthlessly fucking you for three hours ;3
What you get for flaunting yourself in front of his mates :(
Lazy night in with gaz
Shhh don’t want anyone to hear you
Late night humping with your clingy boyfriend
Roommate! Gaz getting tired of your horny whining
Simon Riley
Just a quick reminder of where you belong
Quick polishing’
A goodbye gift
A welcome home gift
Roommate! Ghost pounding you till you wake up :(
Owner! Ghost with his lil pup
Little film for later
Gettin’ crafty
John McTavish
Riding him until he’s dumb <3
Mornin sex with Johnny boy
Self restrain
Virgin! Johnny
Just his doll
Convincing your friend, Johnny to join your live 🫣
König
Hes just too big you needed a photo for confirmation
Need your colonel to reach you a lesson?
Just a quickie before he leaves for work
Quickie part 2
Good girls beg
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cntloup · 1 month
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18+ MDNI
imagine you're just chilling with simon on the couch watching trash tv while his hands rest on your waist
but one hand starts to drift lower and lower into your panties and his rough fingers begin to lazily toy with your clit, pinching and circling the sensitive bud
and his other hand trails higher under your shirt, playing with your boobs, kneading the soft flesh
you're just so warm and soft he can't help it :(
all the while his lips are pressed to your ear, cooing praises like "You're so pretty, baby... so soft... such a good girl f'me... jus' sittin' back and lettin' me play with you."
and now you're all worked up and whimpering, leaning closer into his touch
your pretty pussy all wet with your slick, begging to be filled up :(
and he rewards you by inserting two thick fingers into your weeping cunt
"Simon!" you gasp as he rolls and twists his calloused fingers against your sensitive sticky walls
he scissors his fingers inside you, making your sopping pussy squelch
your cheeks start to heat up at the sound
but soon the combination of his hand on your breasts, rough fingers rolling your perky pretty nipples between them and the pumping of his fingers inside your tight wet pussy makes your brain all foggy
and you're too far gone to care as your slick walls start to tighten around his fingers
"let go, baby. cum f'me." he murmurs while picking up the pace
and the all-consuming wave of your orgasm washes over you with a loud moan as your milky white cream coats his fingers
and he licks them clean off your juices
then brings his fingers to your lips and you lick the mix of your cum and his saliva off his fingers
i need him so bad it's not a joke anymore :(
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chaosandmarigolds · 20 days
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Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on
Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,
Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work
"Baby! The water won't turn off?"
"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.
Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name
Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price
"Oi, Cap-"
"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"
"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."
Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-
Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema
Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect
Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you
(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )
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bitten-fruit · 3 months
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Simon forgets how strong he is
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18+ MDNI - cw: bruising - ~700 words
just some Simon Riley NSFW brainrot ♥︎ - part 2-ish, and part 3-ish here!!
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Simon forgets how to be gentle.
When he's at war, fighting and shooting and killing day and night, all he knows is hardness. Brutality. Ruthlessness. His hands and heart grow calloused and rough in his months away from you. Using his unfathomable strength to survive is what he grows used to, it becomes second nature.
But it's your softness he remembers, to keep himself sane. It's all he thinks about. Dreams of.
The way the flesh of your hips, your ass, your breasts, your belly, pillows so deliciously between his fingers when he squeezes his handful - so warm, so supple. The way your vanilla-balmed lips graze his scarred skin so tenderly, however undeserved your sweetness is.
And when he finally returns home, after months of missing, craving you - when you stand in the door, honey thighs bare by virtue of the black panties you wore just to torture him, soft tummy peeking out from under your crop-top - he just can't restrain himself.
You greet him with your sugary smile, stretching up on your toes to curl your loving arms around his neck - your gentle voice, music; "Si, ah! I'm so glad you're okay…"
The moment your velvet skin touches his, his shackles crumble. Like a beast starved, he clutches you. Mammoth arms curl around you, constricting, gripping you eagerly like you might be a dream; liable to turn to a memory, to smoke.
His avaricious embrace lifts your feet from the ground, though he doesn't mean to - he burrows his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, lets the curls of your hair smother him and fill his chest with the faint scent of your fruity shampoo. Fights every urge to take a bite, like you're a ripe nectarine.
Growls into your skin, through his jaw; "I fuckin' missed you, love. Christ, you have no idea how much I missed you."
"I missed you too, baby…" you coo into his ear, even your breathing is tender - he can't take it.
So he ferries you immediately to the sitting room, scoops you up like you weigh nothing, lets you coil your buttery thighs around his waist as he sits you on his lap on the sofa.
His wide hands take their greedy handfuls of your body - of your waist, of your hips, of your thighs, of your ass. Finally indulging the impulses he had dreamed about for so long - the very image he had fucked his fist to more times than he could count while parted from you.
With his teeth on your shoulder, tongue laving your warm skin; "So fuckin' soft," he grumbles deeply, and urges, "pretty thing. So soft. Fuck, I missed you."
His cock is hasty to grow boulder-solid under his trousers, and he chastises himself - but you answer with a cloying giggle, grinding your mound against its rigidity as if to torment him.
"Mm, you did miss me," you tease, little brat.
Then in an instant, all he can think about is the softness of your syrupy pussy, the gumminess of the inside of your cunt as its walls caress and milk his cock like it was built just to fit him.
You make him fucking ravenous, so voraciously eager to have you that he doesn't even notice his hands turn to vices around your flesh - fingers burrowing so deeply into the cheek of your ass that he might break through the skin.
"Ah!" You yelp, "Ow - Simon - you're hurting me-"
Your squeak of pain is enough to immediately shatter him - so he rapidly lifts you off of him, protecting you from his impulse. Stands you on your feet so that you're no longer victim to his inability to control himself.
"Shit, I'm sorry-" he grunts under his breath, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, it's-" Your brows curl in worry, turning to look at where he had clawed you - and he sees the purple bruises where his hand had wrenched the flesh of your ass, the red lines where his fingernails had nearly punctured you. "Oh," you breathe at the sight, "…wow."
Drowning in visceral shame, he can barely bring himself to touch you again. But your soft hand caresses his hair, running through the sandy tresses - you, somehow, the one to comfort him.
"It's okay, baby, I know you didn't mean to," you purr fondly, and he leans forward to shamefully press as soft a kiss as he can into the bruise he gave you. Fucking monster.
"I'm sorry," he croaks into your skin, hoping his guilt will reverse his barbarity. "I just missed you."
"I know," you croon, turning to plant a loving kiss into his hair. "It's okay."
You guide him to lean back, mounting his lap again, letting your pelvis grind against the erection you were quick to reawaken.
His hands barely ghosting over your skin, he restrains himself, touches you carefully.
You whisper, into his stubbled cheek; "I'll show you how to be gentle again."
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