#i hate sharing my man with the military

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[alwaysshallow]

boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

[theyluvkarolina]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐒

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` who is that girl? ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes!

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Secrets are amazing between two people. But people can’t help but wonder who that girl is with Lance, and why she randomly shows up every so often. Well, maybe it’s time for this secret is to be shared.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lance Stroll x Military!Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of the military, online hate (Hate and Lance are a package deal) but nothing serious. Also, the time frame is 2023 but photos may not be accurate!

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ i have little to no knowledge of the military so i tried my best! I decided to make Y/N one of the 1,200 Canadian troops deployed to Latvia. Lots and lots of love to you all 🩷 I did some research and found mixed responses about text messaging while in the military but for the sake of the fic, we will make it able to text friends, family and be on socials! Not my longest fic, but definitely one of my favorites.

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lance_stroll ✔︎

liked by astonmartin, y/n_l/n, fernandoalo_offical and others

lance_stroll not a bad race day! glad to have some support despite the time difference 😊

2,310 comments

username1 THERE SHE IS AGAIN

username2 lancey strolly has a secret… and it’s not about him being on top

→ username3 being on top?? 😏 → username2 enough.

username4 no bc the way she comes on his socials and then just leaves again??

→ username5 maybe they are a on and off couple 🤷 → username6 no bc it’s soooo fishy?? → username7 i wouldn’t be surprised if she’s using lance for his money like all the other wags are → username8 or… or just maybe… she has a job and her life doesn’t revolve around her boyfriend 😱 😱 → username9 @ username7 bold of you to assume that they go after money as if the drivers don’t go after looks 💀

username10 does literally ANYONE know who in the world this girl is?? she’s been with lance since he started but then he posts her like a couple times a year and we never seen her in the paddock

→ username11 managed to find a old photo lance and some girl when lance first joined williams and lance had he tagged! apparently, her name is Y/N L/N but because he account is private, we don’t know much else about this maybe being the same girl. → username12 im sorry you are just sound STALKERISH. if i was his gf like y/n rn, i wouldn’t wanna show my accounts or who i am either.

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lance_stroll ✔︎

liked by estebanocon, y/n_l/n, astonmartin and others

lance_stroll the real prize of montreal this year 🏆 My girlfriend definitely gave me the support i needed this weekend after our time spent apart. For everyone wondering, this is my amazing girlfriend Y/N who does the unthinkable. The reason why you barely see us together is because Y/N works as a engineer in the military. I always miss her, but her support means the world to me (whether it be online calls or seeing her for such a short amount of time 😅) and I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for her support and belief in me since we were kids. Love you, and i cannot wait for the big day 🩷

3,495 comments

username13 OKAY LANCE “HARD LAUNCH” STROLL

username14 SHES A MILITARY GIRL

→ username15 no bc a being in the military and being a engineer is so badass?? → y/n_l/n stop im blushing so hard rn 🥹🥹

username16 i love how everyone is ignoring that lance just announced they are getting married in such a subtle way.

fernandoalo_official such a nice couple 😊 can’t wait for the wedding!

→ username17 WEDDING??? → username18 WTF DO YOU MEAN WEDDING??

landonorris ✔︎ FERNANDO KNOWS BUT THE REST OF US DON’T???

→ estebanocon ✔︎ we feel betrayed over here 😞 → mickshumacher ✔︎ very hurt. → lance_stroll ✔︎ whoops..? → landonorris ✔︎ DONT YOU “whoops” US YOUNG MAN??? → lance_stroll ✔︎ i’m literally a year older than you??? → landonorris ✔︎ you get what i mean.

y/n_l/n AHHHHH LANCEY STROLLEY :((

→ username19 LANCEY STROLLEY WILL MAKE HIS WAY ON TOP!!

y/n_l/n sir lancelot 💔 🥹

y/n_l/n i’m so happy rn you don’t get it 🩷 it sucks how different our lives are because of our jobs but i’m so glad i have you 🫶

Liked by lance_stroll!

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ right back at you 🫶 → username20 what if i started crying rn.

username21 THE GF REVEAL!!!

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ *fiance now :)

username22 she served. literally.

username23 the way her being on and off rn makes so much more sense…

username24 okay… they are pretty cute..

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: “Hi girl. This just randomly popped in my head so I’ve decided to ask if you can write it since I love your works.Lance x military fiance, no one knows their together expect his father and he just randomly soft launches every now and again when she’s home and it always catches people off guard. Anyways she’s been gone for like a year or two and she’s finally getting to come home for a while so she decided to surprise him at his home race and a video gets leaked or sm and then he hard launches. This could be a mix of smau and real life if you want. Thanks. I can't wait to read the charles x ballerina fic your writing. Your fics never disappoint 🫶” - Anon

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men with a Housewife - Preferences

Simon Riley, John MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick, König x Fem! Reader

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

Simon Riley

The thought of going back home and you are just there is enough to keep him going for months.

He loved the idea of having someone home at all times, during the hard times, he would just need to imagine you in your shared house, curled up on the couch, watching a movie. It was enough for him.

But coming home and actually being there is everything.

He always gets this feeling in his stomach as he drives home, fear. The fear of finding an empty home or worse, a burnt-down home.

But each time, the house is still there, with you inside.

Each time you would run into his arms and kiss him. Each time you would tell him to eat something because you cooked.

Because of course, you cooked.

Johnny MacTavish

When you met Johnny you had a nice job, you were overly fond of it, but you did have one. But after your marriage, Johnny asked you to stay home. He explained he earned enough, you wouldn’t have to worry. He said it was so that he can be sure you are safe.

And how can you say no when he is asking so nicely?

You noticed just how much calmer he was after you agreed. But you also noticed that there was nothing to keep your mind truly busy when he wasn’t home.

You began to worry a lot for his safety and feared that any phone call or letter you received might be bad news.

But he always came home to you.

You even learned how to cook the dishes he enjoys the most. He would often call you “Little Wife” which was a very cute nickname, you thought.

Kyle Garrick

It wasn’t fully his idea for you to stay home and stop working. It just… happened. 

He adopted a cat, which couldn’t be left alone while he was gone, then you got married and you quit your job which you hated.

But Kyle loved it.

You would send him pictures of you and your cat, Cinnamon.

Kyle loved to arrive home to a warm house and your smile.

John Price

John is a very cautious man.

He has probably five houses each location confidential, so much so, that you don’t even know half of their actual place.

But let’s be honest, he would be upfront and tell you that he wants you to stay home long before you marry him.

He would let you choose a house and give you everything you want.

John would come home to you, smelling of cigars, gunpowder and death.

But you never tell him that you know. You let him shower while you prepare a simple meal for him.

Alejandro Vargas

He probably has a huge family, I can see his mother being a housewife herself. So he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of you being one, but if you want a job, he wouldn’t mind that either.

So when you ultimately decided to stay home, he wasn’t fully on board. He wanted you to have everything in his absence. 

And when he was gone, he was worried, he hated to leave you alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be wearing his ring proudly. He was a proud husband, and you were hidden, even with the ring, no one would find you if anything happened.

But nothing ever did.

Alejandro always came home to you, asked you to join him in a hot bath, and neither of you would put on any clothes after.

König

He actually begged you to stay home and work from home. Later on, you decided to take over the house and became a full-on housewife.

He had a huge house even before you married him, so the home became your DIY project very early.

It did help to keep your mind off of him not being home, you always had a room to decorate, paint or rearrange to your liking. It became your project that each time he left, you did one room so that when he came home, he could be surprised.

König is a huge man with many years of experience in the military which did make him into a hard man.

But with you, he could be so soft and kind. 

Much like how he was when he arrived home after every mission.

He loved to come home, seeing you sleeping in your bed or on the couch, it would fill him with warmth.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[bits-and-babs]

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : könig’s job affords him an air of authority and power that few other professions can. an admission that you find this particularly attractive piques his interest.

pairing : könig x f!civilian!reader (‘perle’)

warnings : 18+ mdni. gun kink!!! this is zero plot, 100% filth, i got a little carried away- gun in mouth. könig is flirty and cheeky because he is, damn it. domxsub dynamics, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (m receiving). size kink, degradation kink, uniform kink all present if you really squint.

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Forest green eyes gaze at you through a black, threadbare veil, an eyebrow arching in silent query. Despite the draped cloth obscuring his expression, you can imagine he's smirking, the edge of his lips pulling up as he grapples with your admission. Pride and self-satisfaction roll off König's massive shoulders in waves, though the sheer immensity of his frame makes it feel far more like an avalanche. 

"You like my uniform?" He repeats your admittance, his thick accent lilting in amusement. It's mortifying, you think, to let König into your mind and show the elite soldier just how much he affects you.

You'd hate to seem disrespectful, to reduce his valorous job to some kind of uniform kink- 

"Schatzi?" König pushes gently, watching you squirm under his interrogation from across the room. Chewing on your lip, you note how it smarts slightly, tender from worrying it with your teeth. 

"Mhm- It's more... That I like it on you." The confession makes you cringe internally, expecting König to laugh or reduce your fantasy to that of a 'civvy stereotype'. 

König appears momentarily caught off guard. You see both dark eyebrows arch in mild surprise before a sort of realisation and subsequent amusement settle into those viridescent irises. 

"You mean I am special?" He muses, setting towards you ever so slowly. For such a hulking mass of man, König moves stealthily, delicate footwork almost inaudible. "Not just any soldier?"

"No!" You insist instantly, cheeks heating up under his inquisitive gaze, "No... It's just you- Just you in the uniform."

König hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement as he advances towards you slowly. The intimidation you feel drips down your spine and settles in the pit of your stomach. He's not as threatening as a lion, with brute force and indiscriminate power. No, he reminds you of a hyena, cunning and wily. The knowing look in his eye only adds to the feeling that he's up to something, and your heart thumps in your chest when he continues to search your expression. 

"Tell me. What about the uniform do you like so?" He urges you to detail your desires. You're beginning to wish you'd never mentioned anything because König looks like he's dangling bait between your eyes to coax you into a trap.

"Uhm," you fumble for an answer, those lush eyes calmly studying your trembling frame. When you drag your eyes over König’s body for an answer, you observe the strain of his shirt buttons and the revolver holster strapped to his thigh. He's sown extra length to the leather ties with scraps from a belt, standard military equipment far too small for his tremendous frame.

"I like- The way it fits you? The power, the guns, an-"

"The guns?" He wonders aloud, but there's a sly inflection to his question, guileful. Swallowing thickly, you wonder if you've overstepped a mark, opening and closing your mouth like a witless fish as you attempt to piece together some kind of backtrack-

"You understand their danger, of course?" König quizzes rhetorically, seemingly sated by your vehement nod, "You think they look good? Then... I am willing to share a glimpse of one. That is, if you continue to be so open and honest with me." 

It's an odd sensation, the feeling of your blood running cold but the pit of your stomach burning hot with arousal. König doesn't even give you a moment to dispute, halting his advancing footsteps and deciding instead to revert, putting distance between you and taking a seat. 

"K- König-" You want to ask him to tell you what he has planned, but the words wither on your tongue when you see him draw the stainless steel revolver from its holster. It glints in the fluorescent lighting above your head, coaxing you forward. It's as though he's pushed cotton between your lips, drying your mouth. 

"Perle," he copies you, shifting his hips forward in the seat and slowly letting his colossal thighs part. From here, his eyes look darker, his pupils swallowing his irises as he drops his hand and places the revolver in his lap. "Come take a look."

It cracks up the length of your spine, sparking white hot and burning in your cheeks. W-What? You let out a nervous giggle, stepping forward to begin your approach. 

König doesn't seem to like it, though. He tilts his head in silent warning, and you stop dead in your tracks. He told you-

"Crawl for me, Liebchen," König murmurs, resting his bicep against the seat's headrest. Every inch of his body is relaxed, muscles lazy as his eyes drag across the length of his body. You're almost certain you can feel their path across your skin, leaving burning embers in their wake. God, it's genuinely pathetic; how quickly you fall to your knees. 

The intensity of his gaze bores into you as you settle on your hand and knees. Embarrassment no longer controls you, your arousal overriding any possible humiliation as you crawl across the floor towards him. König's eyes are an open book, pleased and proud of your willingness to take orders–– it encourages you, prompting you to put a slight sway to your hips. 

You'd have to be blind to notice it; the generous length bobbing and straining against the khaki trousers. Despite his obvious discomfort, König does nothing to satiate his arousal, focusing all his attention on you alone when you finally kneel between his feet. 

"Mein kleiner Schatz," the purr rumbles in his chest as König reaches forward, stroking the barrel of the gun across your cheekbone. The chromed steel is cold, chilling your skin and breaking goosebumps across your arms. "You look so pretty like this."

Anticipation prickles down your spine, whimpering softly. You lean into König's touch, turning towards the pistol and pressing a kiss to the steel barrel. You see the flicker of arousal in König's green eyes and how his eyelids grow heavy. 

"Scheiße, you like that?" he groans, dragging the nose of the gun across your lips like the bullet of a lipstick. "My weapon big enough for my girl?" He smirks when you nod, looking up at your lover through your lashes. 

It's downright vulgar, utterly disgusting, but you can't help yourself anymore. The way König looks down at you with this look in his eyes, like he could swallow you whole, makes arousal curl so hot and thick in your stomach that you can't deny your throbbing clit any longer. Sliding your fingers underneath your waistband, you rub small circles on your clit. 

"Oh," König sighs, watching as you let out a gasp of relief. The breath expels from your lungs hot and heavy, misting up the reflective steel surface of the revolver. "Look at you, Perle. Share with me; I want to watch." 

Fumbling with the buttons on your pants, you desperately work out of them and yank them over your hips, panties and all. The searing gaze above you settles on your pussy as you play with your clit, adding to the bliss that sparks across your skin. 

"Mhmm," König hums again, like you've placed an exquisite meal before him. "All wet for me, Schatzi; it's all across your thighs." 

You nod weakly, breath shuddering as you grind into your palm with a whimper. "P-Please-"

"Kiss the gun again, Perle. I'll make you feel good," he promised you, his voice thick and deep with his arousal. You nod thoughtlessly, far too overwhelmed by the need to feel his hands on you to deny his request. You press your lips to the barrel of the gun over and over, slowly and sensually, as though you were kissing his cock. 

"Good girl," he praises, though his words catch in his throat when you take a leap. Opening your mouth, you bring the barrel tip between your teeth, looking up at König through your lashes and letting out a wanton moan. 

Big mistake. 

König uses the balls of his heels to skirt forward in the seat, his knees on either side of your head. He stares down at you, chest heaving as he leans down and pats your hip sharply. 

"Stand up on your knees," he orders, the severity in his voice similar to how he speaks to his KorTac team. You can’t help but wonder if he gets a kick out of it too– some kind of power surge thanks to his promotion.

"Yes, colonel," you address him by his title as you rise, and König growls so deep and low that you're sure the floor rumbles beneath you. He works his massive hand over your own, taking control and slowing your fingers' ministrations to a maddeningly slow cycle. 

"Such a good girl, Shatz," he coos, and once again, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he watches your body crumple with the wave of arousal his control shoots through you. "So receptive. Would you like it in your mouth?"

Whimpering softly, you look up at him in question. Was it safe? Well- Of course it wasn't safe; none of this was. 

"Trust me," he urges you softly, finally replacing the swirling touch of your finger with his own. There's no escaping the drag of his fingerprint, the digit so much larger than your own. 

You nod again, the blissful arousal so mind-numbing that it overrides your fear. Then, letting your jaw hang loose, your eyes practically roll back into your skull when König rests the barrel of the deadly weapon across your tongue.

"Hahh," König groans, sinking his fingers into your soaked cunt. You wail, body bracing and shuddering at the intrusion as his fingers alone stretch you out. "Is that good, Mein kleiner Schatz? Hmm? Does it feel cold in your mouth?"

You nod slightly, managing a quiet 'mhm-hm' to answer your Colonel vocally. Excitement blooms in your chest when you see it pleases him, his fingers sliding deeper into you while working your clit ever so slowly. 

"Does it feel good, though?" He checks in with you, still adamant about your comfort despite his dominant role. You nod again. 

"Good," he chuckles, staring down at you with such an intensity that you almost forget his eyes are green, his pupil dilated so much that they've practically devoured his verdant irises. It rocks you, another blissful wave of arousal sweeping from head to toe. 

Wrapping your lips around the barrel, you allow yourself to get carried away even further. You hollow your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering as you put on the erotic display to work König up even more. 

"Schei- Filthy girl!" You're unsure if he meant to scold you, but König sounds far too wrecked for it to land the way he intends. He rocks his fingers up inside of you suddenly, instantly finding your G-spot and working it ruthlessly. "Alway distracting me, making me lose my min..."

His words are drowning out as your heartbeat thuds against your sternum and in your ears, something sickly sweet and thick like molasses trickling through your veins as your orgasm begins to surge in your abdomen. 

The squelching, wet sounds of König's fingers working in and out of your tight cunt are deafeningly loud, though, audible enough that they reach your ears even over the thumping of your heart and heavy gasps of breath. "K- König-"

"Can you take it deep in your throat for me, Mein Perle?" He asks, sounding utterly wrecked and haggard. Your vision blurs, but you definitely see the lurch of his cock in his khaki cargo trousers. "Please- Please, just for me-"

He doesn't need to ask you twice; his begging is interrupted by a filthy groan of your name when you easily take the barrel further down your throat to the point your upper lip could almost brush his thumb on the hammer of the gun.

"Hahhh, fuck!" König spits, watching tears well in your eyes at the stretch in your throat and cunt. He gently pulls the gun from your mouth, careful not to hurt you but knocking your teeth thanks to his trembling hand. "I'm making you cum, and then you'll do that to me, Shatz. Filthy girl-"

The moment the gun leaves your lips, König's fingers arch against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit simultaneously. It's devastating, and you're barely able to hold yourself up as the ecstasy bursts through you brightly. It's as though a grenade has gone off, but it keeps building and building- 

" König-... KönigKönigKo-ooh-" You squeak his name, his brutal, sniper precision knocking the oxygen from your lungs as your tears drip down your face. "I'm cummmmugh-!"

It’s like static in your ears and across your skin when it burns through you. It crackles across your nerve endings, arcs up your spine until you’re leaning back against it, arching your back as if attempting to escape the intensity of the ecstasy he draws from you. You want to scream his name, begging him to stop, to carry on, but the words drown among the wails and whines of bliss. 

It feels like it goes on forever, your body suspended in euphoria and caged, grounded, only by König’s thighs. 

When your vision straightens, your chest heaving violently, König's hands delicately push your hair from your face. He's careful with you in these moments, the vulnerable aftermath where your mind is drunk on hormones and your body is in shock from the extremity of your orgasm. There's no rush for your recovery; your lover lets you take all the time you need. 

It's only when you manage to straighten yourself somewhat, shaky hands resting on his knees in a wordless show of readiness, that König nods his head. 

"That's it, Schatzi," he whispers to you, holding his breath as he waits his turn anxiously. 

Your mouth waters at the ruddy colour of his thick, veiny dick, and you lean forward to take the head into your mouth in a repeat of your actions earlier. König's hips jolt forward, grasping the arms of the chair with a white-knuckle grip at the vibrations that rock down his shaft when you hum around him. 

"Oh- Oh fuck-!" He chokes out when you gently graze your teeth over the sensitive, velvety head, just as you did the gun barrel. You see König's eyes roll back, and one of his eyebrows arches as the sensation takes over. He's twitching in your mouth already, salty precum dribbling down the arch of his cock and spilling onto your tongue. 

You take your tantalising time, kissing at the head of his dick once more before slowwwly easing him into your wet, hot mouth. König's gasps of bliss are pathetic, the imposing man reduced to a clammy mess of whimpers and keens of your name. It's so simple to work him up, the simple act of your palms smoothing across his thighs enough to get his cock jumping against your tongue. 

The warmth of your mouth around König's dick is too much for him, his head lolling back in the chair. You see him squeeze his eyes shut, bracing against the heaving of his chest and the slight rocks of his hips into your mouth. 

Your hand finds his balls, gently trailing your nails over them, and König's hips suddenly jolt upwards. He slips deep, tip knocking the back of your throat and catching you off guard in a gag. 

Pulling back, you squeeze his knees tight and take a deep breath. 

"Oh fuck- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he apologises fervently, lifting his head like he's got weights tied to it, and it's far too heavy. He can't seem to hold it up straight, and it instantly falls back again with a spluttered wail when you shush him, wrapping your mouth around his cock and tracing his slit to taste his precum. 

He's close already; you can tell by the way his dominant energy dissipates and his balls draw up tight. He’s completely forgotten the act he’d been putting on, his revolver discarded on the beside you and desperate pines of your name falling from his lips.

"Scheiße," he gasps, the wooden arms of the chair creaking beneath the pressure of his grip. "Ah, Sch- shhhh-"

Anticipating his orgasm, you sink heavily onto him, taking as much of his impossible length into your throat as possible. König's hands fly from the chair, grasping the hair on the crown of your head and holding you on his cock like he's terrified you'll withdraw. 

“Ahah- Ah- Mein Perl- fuck!”

He cums with a lurch of his dick, a pathetic, trembling whine spilling from his lips as you swallow it down, the walls of your throat tightening around him. Ragged gasps of breath reach your ears, and your clit burns with the need for attention yet again as you continue to milk König. There's so much of him-

Suddenly, he's using his grip on your hair to pull you off, and he slips from your lips with a wet, audible pop. You look up at his languid body sprawled in the chair, wiping his wetness from your chin. 

"Hah, Schatz…” he watches you, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, "You are too good to me."

You shake your head gently, still sitting on your knees as you rest your head in his lap. They're aching after holding your weight for so long on such a hard floor, but you'll gladly take the bruises as a medal for your hard, valiant work. 

His hands immediately find your hair with a much softer, kinder touch, brushing through the threads and skirting his fingertips over your scalp. "No. I just want to show my appreciation for my heroic soldier, remember?" 

A soft, tired chuckle shakes his body, and you can't help the smile that splits your lips as a response. "Ah, of course. I remember. 'Not like others in uniform'."

"You're not," you insist gently, closing your eyes as he brushes his battle-calloused knuckles across your cheekbone, "None of them make the uniform look so sexy."

"Ah-hah! I knew it was the uniform!"

join the taglist here

Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare Taglist;

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[witchthewriter]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: not a poly relationship - I just decided to have them both in one post. Let me know if you want more xx Also I went through the tags for these guys and there is nothing but SMUT. So I wanted some sweet sfw headcanons for the boys

Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

INTJ

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

・This man is fucking dangerous behind the wheel. And although he is a hot-head occasionally, it isn't when he's driving.

・Simon knows he's shit, so when people honk at him, give him the finger - he just stone-faces it. Let's them berate him because really, he doesn't fucking care.

・However he has lost his licence a few times ... and so you told him he could be your &lt;3 passenger princess <3

・Simon wasn't amused ...

・Very much the protective type, verging on possessive. Not in an abusive way, but he wants everyone to know that you're his. So when anyone flirts with you - or even when they're a little too nice, his jealousy consumes him.

・Scary dog privledges, with and without the mask. This man is intimidating as fuck.

・6'4, wide shoulders and big hands, so it doesn't matter how you look, how tall you are etc - Simon is bigger, taller and stronger.

・Yes he can be a hardass, but when he loves someone, that roughness is somewhat smoothened out. He'd hate to hurt your feelings.

・He only wears his mask to hide his identity; he takes it off when missions are done.

・And when he's home, he rarely wears it.

・Absolutely HATES being jump-scared. And his reflexes take over (you've learnt from the first and last time)

・This goes with random kisses as well, sometimes you just have to make yourself known before touching Simon

・He isn't huge into PDA, but when outside he will gladly hold your hand, bump his shoulder into yours when you make a crappy dad joke.

・The biggest misconception is that he's cold. Well, at work - obviously he is. But at home, with you, he has so much warmth. A lot of life.

・He has great banter. Absolutely has both of you laughing your asses off.

・Calls you "love," "sweetheart," (all in his gruff, chiselled brit accent). And when you're alone, he calls you names like "my love," "hun," "sweet cheeks."

・You're slowly learning about Simon's past, which he shares little by little.

・Too much information and he's scared you might feel overwhelmed and leave him

・There's some deep trauma there, but the army has therapists and everyone gets checked out before they're deemed mentally healthy enough.

・He does want kids, but only after he's done with the military. He would hate to be an absent father in any way. And he wouldn't want you to have that full responsibility.

・A lot of people characterise him as this traumatised man who can barely look after himself. But that is far, faaaaar from the truth. He's very competent. And he eats a LOT. But he also works out (to keep in shape, he actually hates the gym) (also he doesn't expect you to do anything of that stuff. He loves you for you.)

・I also have this headcanon that Ghost/Riley would love Metallica, Slipknot, Black Sabbath etc. It's one of the things that calm him down. However, if he's had an overwhelming day, he needs no noise whatsoever.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Teases Them (You) x About To End Them (Ghost)

The Moon and His Star

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Opposites Attract

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier

Enter Sandman by Metallica

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, I bloody mean it. 

・There's almost like two sides of your s/o. The Ghost side, where the mask stays on, and he's rough, possessive, dominant. And then the Simon side, where he likes soft touches and when you gently stroke his face

・You've both discovered that Simon likes it when you wear his mask, gloves - nothing else - and touch yourself.

・Even with your cum juices on the mask, and gloves, he'll still wear them to work.

・It's the only kinky thing he brings with him while on deployment. You did want to take a naked polaroid for him but he didn't trust the other guys not to somehow see it.

・He likes keeping you as separate from army life as much as possible. Because you feel like home, and it gives him hope.

・Ghost loves taming your bratty side. He's short, demanding and can shut you up with one look.

"Keep on actin' like that, and see what happens."

・Of course you keep acting up, and when you get home, you pay for it tenfold.

・Ghost's hands are as big as a paddle, and when he has you over his knee, ass up in the air. He doesn't hesitate in leaving red marks (all consensual. He wouldn't do anything without having a conversation before hand).

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

・A 6'10 king, who suffers from social anxiety but has this soft, silly side that he loves showing you and only you (I will take no criticisms on his height. It is LAW. My law.)

・Because of his anxiety, social aspects of life are much harder than work. He's highly skilled in combat, and has a lot of confidence in his abilities to accomplish missions.

・However, when you tried to speak to him, all he could do was stutter.

・You allowed him to get the words out, but he was an absolute mess afterwards and went to go train.

・But this didn't deter you in the slightest. Hell, you had been trying to muster the courage to speak to him for weeks...

・It took a while for Konig to open up about his past, especially his adolescence.

・He's told you the jist of it, but there's details that you don't push him on.

・One of your favourite pastimes together is going to bakeries and eating the most delicious pastries.

・When you're feeling down, or there's something to celebrate, there's no cake but pastries instead

・Doesn't mind animals, but understands that when he's away you will get a bit lonely. So you surprised him by getting a pair of kittens!

・You showed him over video chat, one white kitten and one black.

"I haven't chosen names for them yet, but I thought maybe you could have some input?"

"Schatz! The kittens are cute but you have scratch marks all over your arms!"

"They're very playful!" And then you leant closer to the camera and whispered, "I leave scratches on your back ..." And with an innocent look on your face, you watched as Konig shivered.

・Likes to put you on his lap when he's cleaning weapons, or getting the marks out of his mask or shoes. Okay honestly, he just wants you on his lap all the time. Whatever excuse he can come up with - he'll goddamn use it

・Absolutely loves Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks. He thinks they have such a beautiful sound that you can find him with headphones on, swaying in the bedroom, silently in his feels

・All your pet names are in Austrian/German:

"Schatz", meaning 'treasure'.

"Maus," meaning 'mouse.'

"Liebling" meaning 'darling.'

"Hase" meaning 'bunny'.

"Liebe" meaning 'love.'

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Konig)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (You) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (Konig)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Hidden Identity & Forced Proximity

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Chain by Stevie Nicks

Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary (he loves movie scores as well. It's one of his fascinations).

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Konig is a bit awkward at first with the sexual interactions you guys have. He does have anxiety, but also, the build up of sexual tension had been going on for months.

・All he had during that time was his hands and the memories of how you looked, the way your eyes met his then flicked downward - almost like you had x-ray vision.

・There was no denying the heat.

・So when you first hooked up it was a fumbling mess of grunting, clothes ripping and fast hands trying to touch and grab at any bare piece of flesh.

・You did have a shocking revelation that first time however. Because this man's cock is not only thick, veiny but nearly 9 inches when he's hard.

・That first time wasn't a true first time as the look on your face told Konig everything - you weren't ready for that part of him ... just yet.

・Loves when you ride his thigh; they're absolutely huge. Just muscled and bulky and the first time you saw them (without the uniform) you audibly gasped.

・His body is absolutely divine

・Like it had been sculpted by the gods. Large biceps, long legs, small waist, large shoulders. His hands wrap your neck perfectly.

・You feel so safe with him.

・And you have to remind him that, because sometimes he worries he could hurt you without meaning to.

"I'm a grown up, Konig. I can handle myself."

"So when are you going to let me fuck you?"

"mmm... I think I still have to get used to that. Maybe we can do fingers first..." (his fingers are ... fucking huge).

[delirious-donna]

Call In The Cavalry [Levi Ackerman]

an: this is an entire rework of an old story for a different character/fandom. I felt like it fit Captain Levi and I enjoyed writing for him for the very first time. This is my first time writing in this fandom so be kind.

pairing: Levi Ackerman x female reader

warning: modern AU, military man Levi, phone sex, female masturbation, male masturbation, use of toys, bit of dirty talk, maybe a little OOC for Levi but I tried...

Masterlist

How perfectly infuriating, you couldn't quite get there.

You know, that blooming ache that resides so deep in your gut that it can only be reached by those with the most skilful of fingers or… well, the less said about the other possibilities the better, especially when you missed your partner more and more with each day that elapsed.

The gnawing need for sweet release mocked you, dancing out of reach of your dainty digits and even the incessant buzz of your vibrator wasn’t enough to see you fall off the cliff edge. Tension crowded the muscles in your abdomen and thighs, a continual pull behind your navel but always ebbing away at the last second. It was clear your mind was choosing to remind you of the absence of a certain someone and you cursed your brain for being so mean.

Finally, you kicked the sheets that were wrapped around your knees from the way you had thrashed around in experimentation. Frustration bubbled in your chest, and your head thumped wildly against the pillows. 

It had only been a week–one miserable week–since he had left. In fact, he was due home tomorrow morning. A thought popped into your mind… perhaps he was already home? Glancing at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the neon numbers illuminated that it was nearly midnight.

Your hand wrapped around your phone, the screen waking from its slumber and you worried your bottom lip with the edge of your teeth. Even if he wasn’t quite home, would he be awake for a call? A familiar smirk cut through the shadows and worries in your mind’s eye, the very slow and knowing smile that could curl your toes at the mere sight of it. 

With your heart hammering against your ribs, you ran the flat of your palm between your thighs to dig the heel into the bundle of nerves that needed him more than ever. It was enough for you to tap the call button, bringing the phone to your ear to listen to the agonising ring.

Long had you known that dating a military man would come with its fair share of sacrifices and this one was by far the worst. You hated when he was sent out on missions that took him away from you. Some times it was only a day or two but others could see him away for months at a time and that was hell on earth. The highs were euphoric but the lows were crushing. Thankfully there were far more highs than lows.

Your stomach flipped over with every ring, the buzz of anxiety teasing your needy anticipation into a frenzy. He might be asleep, might not see the call… so many possibilities.

“Can’t sleep, darling girl?”

Levi’s quiet drawl sent an immediate shiver down the length of your spine, a lowly moan passed your lips by way of response and there was a sudden hitch of breath on the other end.

It took you a moment to collect yourself and speak, all the while Levi waited with apparently endless patience. “I-I miss you, Levi.” 

Quickly, you hit the speaker button and gently placed the phone on the pillow, right next to your head. There was a coil of embarrassment to follow, knowing that you’d become so desperate to get off that you couldn’t even wait the few hours until you were reunited with your lover. What must he think of you?

There was a beat of silence, you almost checked to see if he had hung up on you but finally, he spoke again and it was worth the wait to hear the heated curiosity in his usually unaffected tone.

“Hm, is that so? You could have text me to tell me that. Was it my voice you missed, or perhaps… could it be something else?”

Arousal pooled from the entrance of your slowly clenching cunt, hips forced down into the mattress whilst your fingers painted through the wetness. How badly you wished those fingers to be his, to feel how he would spread your sticky lips apart to draw lazy patterns atop your delicate pearl.

“Miss your hands. Mouth. I-I miss everything,” you admitted with a whimper that only elicited a faint chuckle. You didn’t miss the sound of rustling sheets, knowing that he was in bed but not knowing whether it was his own or where he had spent the last week on his mission.

As a higher-ranking Captain, Levi had the luxury of his own one-bed apartment on the base and you were grateful for that fact. It had made things between the two of you much easier when you didn’t have to worry about being discovered in compromising situations by his comrades. Memories of the rare mornings you had spent wrapped in each other’s arms assailed you–whispered words of affection mingled with wandering hands that gave way to new discoveries and endless hours of bliss.

Whilst you were caught wandering down a hazy, rose-tinted memory lane, Levi was losing his mind. He couldn’t get past the broken way you sounded as you told him everything you missed, the needy inflection that was apparent and unabashed on your part. It had barely been an hour since he had slung his pack into his room and flopped atop his bed, but here he was considering throwing on the nearest pants he could locate and running to your apartment.

Instead, he scrubbed a palm down his face and eyed the traitorous erection lifting the elastic of his underwear. Images of you flickered in his brain like a bad home movie and he settled on a still of you laying in bed, legs spread with your pretty little fingers stuffed inside the very heart of you. He stroked over his clothed bulge and hissed, that was his duty, not yours.

“And what would my hands be feeling if I were there right now, sweetheart? Tell me, are you wearing the cute little bunny pyjamas you begged me to buy for you?”

You bit your lip, teeth sinking deep into your plush skin and your toes curled into the sheets before you lifted your knees and rutted your backside against the mattress.

“Nuh-uh, just a white camisole–s’too hot,” you breathed, listening for his reaction and delighting in the strained groan that fell onto your ears.

“Oh, naughty girl, not even panties? Are you wet for me, would my fingers come away sticky and clear-coated if I were you touch between your beautiful thighs?”

You followed his words as if they were instructions, imagining it was the pads of his fingers that brushed your glistening folds and smeared the sticky essence over the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

“Yes. Oh, Levi–fuck–I’m drenched. Need you inside me.” 

His head fell back on his pillow at your admission, taking out his leaking cock to languidly pump from base to tip as he listened to your words and wished to be with you. Levi didn’t want you to know how needy you were making him, he had a certain reputation to maintain and he couldn’t let you know so readily that he was just as close to whimpering as you were doing right this second. Besides, this was about you and he would get you off at any cost and worry about himself later.

“My poor sweetheart, I know you want me there to stretch you out like you deserve. Here’s what you’ll do instead…” he stated, watching as precum spilt from his angry slit and coated his shaft. “Have you got that little bullet vibrator you’re so fond of there?”

“Mhm.” You weren’t sure you had ever heard him speak so lewdly before and it was possibly the most intoxicating experience to date. His voice was as low and commanding as it ever was but there was a desperate longing underlying which made you feel empowered despite being completely at his mercy.

Fuck, you were killing him.

“Okay, I want you to put it in your mouth and suck on it like it’s one of my fingers, yeah? You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Your fingers shook as you lifted the small bullet vibrator into your wet mouth, tongue swirling around it in earnest to please. The smooth surface was no decoy for Levi’s finger but you reminded yourself of the times he had forced his digits into your mouth to keep you quiet and it quieted the reality of the device between your lips. Those memories heated your blood until it was close to boiling over.

“Lift that little top, let me feel those beautiful breasts. Be gentle, baby, no pinching. I can tell you’re impatient but just relax into it,” he coaxed softly.

Dainty fingers massaged the swell of your breasts, thumbs rolling over your taut nipples again and again in the exact way Levi would if he were here, and that reminder brought a howl of frustration to your lips.

The tired Captain massaged his aching balls in time with your muffled ministrations on your breasts, every one of your shaky inhales tightened his stomach and drew his sac higher until it was near unbearable.

“That’s it, doing so good. I think it’s more than time to work that bullet on your sweet little button, I bet it is so needy right now. Press it softly on your bud, darling, let the delicious pressure and vibrations build for me.”

“Levi!” You wailed in a pitiful display of your current state. “Shit–s’good, but it’s not enough. I… I need more!” You cried your frustration, and he could practically taste the salt of your tears on his tongue.

He fisted his throbbing cock, pumping so fast and tightly that it neared pain. The angry purple tip stared back at him and he knew that the only way to be truly satiated would be to find release with you, not alone as he was.

“Oh, baby, I know. How many fingers do you think you can take, hm? Two?”

Your every nerve ending was on fire. You were a struck match that was quickly burning down to nothing but ash and soot. Your soaked fingers reached for your entrance, the walls fluttered as you breached inside on a high keen.

Levi panted along with you and you knew that he was fucking his fist, that he wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to portray and you smiled at knowing you were the sole reason he was losing his composure.

Your two fingers twisted, flexing into your cunt and stretched the velvet walls apart, all whilst you slowly applied more pressure to your clit. The tension was there once more, similar to how it had felt earlier but there was hope this time. It was the same but it was different, your unfocused brain trying to decipher what was the change when you already knew it was him. Even miles apart, Levi could bring you the much-needed release when you couldn’t.

Where was his mettle? His courage and valour? All of it was AWOL as he admitted silently that you sounded fucking hot, so completely vulnerable with the eagerness to cum. Moaning long and loud, chants of his name falling from your lips all whilst he continued to fuck his fist and tried to pretend it was your tight cunt.

“That’s it, lemme hear you.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, the sound of his slick hand pumping up and down his thick cock heightened your imagination and allowed you to believe he really was here with you.

“Fuck–you’re gripping me so well,” he whined, feeding your painted delusions with a shudder evident in his voice. “Nearly there. Now crook those fingers, call me over with those fingers and lemme hear you fall apart.”

You exploded like a firework, sparks crackled behind your eyes the second you connected with your front wall and the mass of sensitive tissue engorged from your actions. The combination of the vibrator on your clit, your fingers stroking just right and the imagery that Levi fed you, was more than enough for your orgasm to finally–finally–hit.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as your body curled in on itself. You listened mournfully to the grunt on the other end of the phone and wished desperately that he was here so you could see his release if only to admire his features twisted into bliss before smoothing out into relaxation.

Levi was a mess; hot sticky seed had erupted from his cock like a force of nature. It covered his still-tight fist, splashed on his thighs and splattered his quivering abdomen. His muscles contracted from the severity of his orgasm, and he couldn’t clamp down on his reaction–how embarrassing. Amazing, but embarrassing all the same.

“Oh God, sweetheart. That was–that was amazing.”

You sniffled in response, feeling a little overwhelmed in the aftermath of your orgasm. Mostly from the relief of finally getting there, but also because you were sad that your boyfriend wasn’t here to cuddle you close and sweet talk you through the overwhelming sensations.

The line suddenly disconnected with a quick beep beep, and you grabbed the phone even though your fingers were still smeared in your essence.

A text popped up while you stared at the screen, a soft smile spreading over your face and you rolled over and pressed your now beaming face into the pillows.

“I’m on my way over. Unlock the door for me.”

[writemekpop]

Soldier | Lee Jeno

Summary: When your husband Jeno returns from the military, he treats you like a stranger. You won’t let your love go without a fight. 

Genre: Husband!Jeno, angst

Word Count: 2k

Your nerves were buzzing. 

After ten months, your husband Jeno was returning from military service in Afghanistan. The title ‘husband’ didn’t mean much, though. He had left just after you got married, so you barely knew him. 

He’d been gone so long that you’d started to forget things about him – the intimate details. Like the smell of his hair or the sounds he made during sex. You’d barely spoken since he’d left.

After hours of waiting, you heard three sharp knocks. 

You pulled open the front door, heart thumping. 

Jeno. 

Jeno’s black hair was shorter than you remembered, but his curly fringe was already beginning to grow back. He felt taller, more muscled in his military cargo. His honey skin was tanned from hours in the sun and there were deep purple bags under his eyes. 

“Hi,” you said, inexplicably breathless.  

“You changed the code on the door,” he said, frowning. “I couldn’t get in.”

The space between you flooded with awkwardness. 

“One of the neighbours had break-in a few months back, so we had to change all of our codes. Crazy story!” you said, laughing. 

Jeno just stared at you in stony silence. 

You moved to the side to let him in.

You followed Jeno into the living room. Your eyes fell on the firm bulge of his biceps under his cargo top, and your stomach fluttered. 

Jeno was staring at the checkerboard rug. “When did you get this? I liked the old rug we had better…” he grumbled.

You touched his arm lightly, choosing to ignore him. 

“I missed you,” you whispered. 

You reached in, trying to kiss Jeno’s lips – but your nose bumped against his. You tilted your head to the right, but the same thing happened. Left, no better. 

You felt Jeno’s strong hands grip your shoulders. 

Your entire body set alight. Would Jeno push you onto the couch and ravish you right there? 

But to your disappointment, Jeno just pushed you away from him.

“Y/n, I’m tired and I need to shower. Can we save the reunion for later?” 

His rejection came like a slap. 

“Sure!” you said, trying your best to sound chipper. “Want me to join you in the shower?” You bit your lip and winked in the way you knew Jeno loved. 

Jeno paused. “Umm…” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I sort of meant… alone.”

“Oh…”  You prayed that the ground would swallow you whole. 

Jeno walked off. When you heard the bathroom door shut, you slumped onto the sofa. This was so much harder than you had expected. Did Jeno not… want you anymore? 

Ten minutes later, you heard a yelp from the other room. 

You ran into the bedroom to see Jeno, dripping wet and naked apart from a towel wrapped around his hips, shaking like he’d seen a ghost.

“What’s the matter?” 

Jeno pointed to the corner. “What’s that… thing?” 

You giggled when you saw what he was pointing at. 

You picked up the black and white striped kitten and held her to your chest. 

“This is Kahleesi. I bought her with our wedding present money. It was lonely after you left… and she’s been keeping me company.” The kitten licked your chin lovingly.

Jeno grimaced. “I hate cats. They creep me the fuck out.” 

You held the cat out towards Jeno, but he jumped back, eyes wide. 

“You’ve literally been in a war but you’re afraid of a fluffy little cat? Some strong military man you are!” You laughed.

You looked at Jeno, expecting him to laugh too, but he was scowling. You cleared your throat. You clearly weren’t there yet. 

Jeno turned away and dried himself off. You stared at the expanse of muscles on his back. There was a deep scar on his shoulder blade. You shuddered. 

“Where does it sleep?” Jeno asked. 

“Khaleesi sleeps in my… I mean, our bed.” 

“I can’t share with a cat. Doesn’t it have a- a cage or something?”

“A cage?” you laughed. But then you saw the deep bags under Jeno’s eyes, and your heart softened. You sighed. “Why don’t you take the bed tonight, and I’ll sleep on the couch with Kahleesi. She’ll need to be trained not to sleep on the bed. It’ll take time.” 

Jeno nodded and flopped down onto the bed.

You hoped Jeno would insist on cuddling you despite the cat, but he just rolled over and went to sleep. The Jeno you married promised to hold you in his strong arms every night of his life. The Jeno you saw now was… a stranger.  

After a cold night on the couch, your body aching with longing for Jeno, the sound of thumping woke you up. It was only 5AM. 

You could hear Jeno clattering about in the bedroom. It was strange. You were so used to living in silence that the noise from another human being shook you awake. Jeno must still be on military time. 

Jeno stormed into the living room, eyes red. 

“Y/n. Where’s all my stuff?”

“Good morning to you, too,” you grumbled, still groggy. You were not a morning person. 

“My things, Y/n.” Jeno snapped. “All my clothes have gone, I can’t find any of my books. What have you done with them?”

You stood up. “Oh… um, I moved them to a storage unit.” You gulped. “I didn’t know when you were coming back and- and, I have a lot of stuff.” You cringed.  

Jeno’s brows were furrowed deeply. He looked… genuinely hurt.  

You ran towards him and gripped his arm. You were surprised by the firmness of his muscles, but you pushed that thought away. 

“Jeno, I’m so sorry. I’ll get them for you this evening, I promise!”

Jeno yanked his arm out of your grip. “Clearly, you’ve moved on from me. Have you been fucking other guys too?” he spat. 

Your mouth fell open. “How can you say that? I asked you not to enlist so early on in our marriage. We barely even knew each other before you… you vanished!” 

Jeno just shrugged. “I owed it to my country. But I’m here now. And it’s obvious you don’t need me anymore. There isn’t even a single picture of me in here.”

You picked up the delicate locket that you were wearing. 

“Look!” You opened the silver heart and angled it towards Jeno. Inside was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. “I haven’t taken this off since the day you left!” 

Jeno raised his eyebrows. 

You yanked the necklace off and chucked it at his feet. “How dare you accuse me of cheating! You’ve been dodging my calls for the past ten months!” 

You ran into the hallway and put on your coat. 

Jeno followed you. He was gripping his hair with both hands. “W-where are you going?” 

“Work,” you snapped. 

“But it’s a Saturday?” he said, looking puzzled. 

You blushed. “Money’s been tight, okay? I’ve been picking up shifts at the convenience store.”  

In an ideal world, you’d have shared all your worries with Jeno – that was what partners were for. But this was no ideal. You slammed the door behind you. 

After work, you went by the storage unit, and dragged two large suitcases with Jeno’s stuff in through the front door.

“I’m back!” you called. “Jeno?”

There was no response. You heart dropped to your stomach. Had Jeno disappeared for good?

Tears pricked your eyes as you walked into the living room. 

When you looked inside, you gasped. 

Jeno was sitting on the rug, shirtless, holding a ball of string high in the air. Khaleesi was in his lap, her little paw stretched up towards the string. 

When you saw Jeno’s naked chest, your mouth went dry. His torso was lean, yet defined with rippling muscles. There were so many lines you didn’t even know existed. What shocked you the most were his thick forearms – they were covered in claw marks. 

“Oh my god, Jeno,” you cried. “What happened?”

“The kitten’s not so bad, you know,” Jeno said, chuckling. “She’s feisty, like her mama.” Jeno’s eyes darted towards yours, his cheeks darkening. “She tore my shirt to shreds.” 

You knelt on the floor beside your husband. The kitten jumped into your arms. You were increasingly aware of how close you were to Jeno’s starkly naked body. 

“She’s sitting on your lap… that means she loves you,” you said. “I…” you cleared your throat. “I love you too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.” 

Jeno’s expression turned serious. He held your hand gently. “I shouldn’t have yelled. And… I’m sorry for going away for so long. I’m done with the army - I can’t leave you again.”

The knot inside your stomach finally began to unwind. 

“Do you think… we’ll be okay?” You couldn’t bear to look at Jeno, so you stared down at your joined hands. 

“I know it.” Jeno’s voice was deep, confident… sexy. It made your entire body buzz. 

Jeno placed his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were smouldering.

“We just need to get to know each other again.” His gaze darted to your lips. “What makes us… click.” 

Your heart started to pound. 

Jeno leant forwards, closing the gap between you. His mouth pressed against yours, and he kissed you hungrily. 

His tongue grazed yours, making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and shuffled onto his lap. 

Jeno’s hands curled around your waist, holding you tight. You kissed him deeper, you couldn’t get enough of him -  his scent, his firm, warm body. It was intoxicating, and you wanted more. 

You brought one hand up to his black hair and pulled, hard. Jeno let out a deep groan that went straight to your core. 

You pushed him till he was lying flat on the floor. 

“Honey, we have a lot of catching up to do,” you purred, straddling his hips. 

Jeno smiled up from underneath you, black eyes crinkling. “Can’t wait.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[starsexplodeatnight]

John Price X Reader!

My first published piece!

Captain John Pricex Reader!

Minors do not engage!

You loved him, really. But, John Price is a lot to handle. Yes, he is a family man, a great husband, a wonderful provider. But he holds on too tight. Tight enough to strangle. You- You had to do it.

even though it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest when he found out... Oh, his poor watery blue eyes you loved so much...

You cried your eyes out in bed that night, alone.

Price is eh, heh- heh, heh, heh. He's not letting you go, love. Not ever.

You live in this incredible house, curtesy of your husband's high paying career in the military. It's the perfect place for children to grow up...

Toxic Ex-husband Price never leaves. "The house is ours, love. Ours is ours." And leaves no room for debate. He'll live in the in-law apartment above the detached garage, yeah? He's not happy about it and uses every instance he can to weaken your resolve and stop this silly 'separation' nonsense.

Walk's out onto the balcony in the morning in his robe, coffee in hand. The robe is open, exposing his chest to the neighborhood. He doesn't care that the women jogging by can see and stare. He only cares when he sees you stop and stare out your bedroom window, all alone. Before you aggressively close the curtains, trying not to fall for his tricks!

Semi Toxic Ex-husband Price, who still wants all the gossip you used to share with him when you were married. He'll just stroll into the house from the back door and hear you chatting with your friend from Pta.

He does what he used to, sit his ass right next to you and press his ear on the other side of your phone. Does he care about the gossip? Not really, it's amusing, but not really his thing. What he loves? He loves how you used to turn to him and go off. You look so happy, chattering on and on about what you'd just heard. Including him in your life...

He says he doesn't really like the gossip but will get upset if you don't tell him every detail. His job is to know, love. You can't just leave him hanging! He will demand to know more about Patricia from the parent-teacher conferences. She slept with the teacher! You can't leave him hanging on that, luv! Just to get you to talk to him the way you used to.

Semi Toxic Ex-husband Price, who is your mother's favorite.

She hates your sister's boyfriend; she hates your brother's wife. You? You landed the cream of the crop!!!

How could you have left him??? Your grandma, your mother and your aunties LOVE him, smug bastard. He eats it the fuck up...

They greet him like the long-lost son they wish they had! Meeting him at the door with kisses on the cheek, beckoning him towards the kitchen, treating him like royalty. He is the favorite, and he's not even blood!

"Oh, such a handsome man! So nice!" "So polite!" "And respectful!" "Here, is she feeding you enough?" Oh, when they learn you've served him with divorce papers? They all cry out in alarm. Everyone, not just the women. Uncles, Grandpa, Cousins, all of them.

"What you talking 'bout divorce? fah! He still come to family parties!" They would totally be on his side… They all help in his case to get back together with you.

It'd make him so much worse….

Especially if your youngest kid is going to her first day of school. You both drop her off and you bawl your eyes out and he's there to comfort you, just like he had with all the times before… cradling you to his strong but soft chest. So warm... familiar... soothes the heartache you're experiencing.

Do you want another baby? You miss having a little one around now that your youngest is off to school, yeah? He can help with that…

Maybe- Maybe you... Maybe you were too harsh on him. Maybe, give him another chance...

[solecize]

fic preview: save the date | san x reader

from middle school walls to lecture halls, choi san was your ultimate nemesis that, for most of your life, fought to do everything better than you. even worse, there was no escape from him when your older sister and his older brother were childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love. years later, the inevitable wedding bells had now come around the corner for them and as her maid of honour, you had one goal: making sure nobody fucked up the wedding. specifically, you were not going to let san, the best man, fuck up the big day.

unfortunately, when the ring goes missing less than twenty hour hours before the wedding, you have no choice but to work with the said best man who you drunkenly slept with days before the wedding - yes, the same one that you hated for over a decade - to track down a ten thousand dollar ring. starting from midnight, it's a race against the clock for you and san to go on the wildest chase of your life to, well, save the date. 

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: san/female reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. non idol au, epic rom com, academic rivals, childhood enemies to lovers, fluff, slight angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. foul language, violence, blood, mention of drugs and drug use, general substance use (smoking and drinking), y/n and san get stranded in a foreign city together after embarking on adventure where they almost get scammed, jumped, etc., assigned seats on an airplane trope, unrequited pining, san gets a glo up after coming back from the military, more to be added 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. n/a 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. tbd.

  being entrusted with the role of maid of honour meant a lot of things to different people, but it was different for you. you happily accepted the title for your sister’s wedding with one main goal in mind: making sure that no one fucks up the big day. specifically, making sure that choi san did not fuck up the big day. 

  unfortunately, with less than twenty-four hours before the wedding due to ring for your sister and san’s older brother, you realized that you were the one that fucked up.

  if someone were to tell you that you ended up dodging a robbery, lugging around a broken e-scooter, outrunning a rabid wild animal, and losing your phone the night before your sister’s wedding, you would have asked them what drugs they were on. and given a year’s worth of stress in anticipating and planning and fittings, you’d likely even ask them to share some. the worse part was that, you’d actually fucked up forty-eight hours before your sister’s wedding and the night you were currently having was just the cherry on top.

  but, that is where you found yourself in a foreign city with no money and no idea how to get back to your hotel at four in the morning. the only thing you could do was stare at choi san, still in his clothes from the rehearsal dinner earlier that night and was preoccupied with nursing his bruised knuckles. 

  san was not a smoker, but he leaned against the wall of a closed coffee shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “you think this is all my fault, don’t you?” he grumbled, finally meeting your sharp gaze.

  this was not even the beginning of the story, though. the real beginning of the story begins in middle school circa 2012, when your first ever crush ruined everything before anything could even happen by simply opening his mouth. 

  choi san was the transfer student that all of the girls in your year whispered and giggled about. you only caught a glimpse of him on the first day of school when you could barely make out his face at the school assembly. 

  “he’s so freaking cute! did you get to see him, y/n?” 

  your best friend at the time jogged up to you at lunch and by this point in the day, you’d heard from nearly all your classmates about the mysterious new kid. you were a bit exasperated, feeling as though you were missing out.

  you shook your head. “no. i think i saw the side of his face, but that’s it.”

  “look at his instagram,” she swooned, tapping on her phone until his profile came up.

  you would never admit it aloud, but you thought your heart skip a beat. “that’s what he looks like? oh my god, he plays basketball, too?”

  that pretty much sealed the deal for you. without shame, you pulled out your own phone to follow san on social media, since it already looked like he was gaining mutuals from other people in your school. everyday from then on seemed to be a game of “can you spot your crush” at school and you got the closest when you lingered a little bit too long after gym class, long enough that you left as soon as basketball try-outs for the boys team began. 

  it was 2012 and nothing else mattered to you except crushing over choi san from respectable distance, gangnam style, one direction, and reading all of the hunger games books. it was like this for the first couple months at school, until you and san finally encountered one another.

  you heard from others that san was incredibly bright and academically gifted, so you were hoping that, he too, would join robotics club. it felt like a dream when your wishes came true and san walked into the first meeting of the season.

  “you’re totally staring at him,” whispered yeosang on this day, to which you elbowed him for. yes, you were definitely staring, but he could have just chose to keep his mouth shut.

  you’d avoided directly speaking to san for the first few meetings, just out of nerves alone. eventually, the club’s first major competition was to come around the corner and the club had to brainstorm their plan. 

  as one of the returning members from the year prior, you expected to be met with respect and have your opinions be considered important. the faculty supervisor had even told you that he had hopes for you taking over as captain in the next year, after the current leader, hongjoong, graduates. 

  “i can take charge of the programming team,” you offered, as hongjoong went over the challenge announcement of the competition.

  that was the moment everything went wrong.

  it looked there was no opposition, until you heard a chuckle from the other side of a room. you were confused, not recognizing the voice. spinning around, you saw that it was san and your heart dropped.

  “you? do you even know how to code?” his eyebrows were raised. 

  your jaw could have easily hit the floor, as you narrowed your eyes at him. “what?” was all you could say.

  “you’re a girl, there’s no way you should be in charge of programming.”

  that year, there were only three girls in robotics club, which was an improvement from the two the year before. it was you, who was the only female member with experience in the club, and then sunyoung and yena. 

  sunyoung never fucking spoke, she never even made eye contact with anyone. she kept to herself and was never going to speak up, but you knew that she was the highest ranking student in your year and had skipped an entire grade. you couldn’t believe sunyoung let that slide. meanwhile, yena always insisted that she was “one of the boys” and was the kind of girl to talk your head off about how she hates taylor swift. you might’ve even heard her murmur in agreement to what san said.

  “are you a fucking idiot?” your thirteen year old self snapped at san, eliciting gasps from around the room. 

  of course, your foul mouth came from none other than your headstrong older sister and at the same moment you began forming a life-long hatred for choi san, she was a couple blocks away at the high school, falling in love with choi san’s older brother during chemistry class. it was a classic high school love story, meeting as lab partners and experiencing first love in between shelves at the library. 

  one day, when your sister happily skipped into your room and sang that she now had a boyfriend, it had been weeks since you already declared san your nemesis. from what you remember, she was so head over heels for her lab partner that it was nauseating - she had to have been, since she was now marrying him over ten years later. 

  “he has a little brother your age, you know,” she said, later the same night. “goes to your school, maybe you’ve met him.”

  the two of you were relaxing on your bed, as your sister scooted closer to show you pictures of her new and first-ever boyfriend on her phone. you raised an eyebrow at her, wondering who she was talking about. 

  “maybe. what’s his name?” you asked.

  “san. choi san.”

[die-pink-maus]

A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: Part III

❤︎ Drawing Credits: @lettaniko ❤︎

This is part three to A Weekend in Vienna. The love I’ve gotten on the first two parts has been so so so SO awesome! Thank you guys, y’all are making me feel a lot less anxious about sharing my writing, haha 🤗

♡ PART I 👉🏽 A WEEKEND IN VIENNA 🇦🇹

♡ PART II 👉🏽 A WEEKEND IN VIENNA: PART II 🇦🇹

TW: 18+, MDNI, heavy smut, mild sexting, mild asphyxiation, MDom, age gap relationship, dirty talk, female pronouns used, fingering, p in v, hair pulling 🤭, eye contact during seggs, size kink, quite a bit of German in this chapter

Word Count: 5129 // It is a HEFTY one guys 😅

Likes/Reblogs greatly appreciated 🥰

Enjoy! 💋

I woke up the following morning with a raging headache and thoughts that most certainly warrant a cold shower. My mind is clouded yet again with provocative thoughts of the large Austrian military man I had the pleasure of meeting yesterday, and how badly I wished to feel his lips against mine again. I could kiss that man all day and night, which appears to be part of what he seems to have in mind for me, amongst other things, as he so boldly pointed out last night. I hate that I have to spend my entire day anticipating our date later this evening, and I know Adrian is gonna have a billion and one questions about last night and what may have possibly happened between König and I. Sigh. I pulled the covers from my body and walked over to the window to open the curtains when I heard a knock on the door. I opened the bedroom door to find Adrian grinning from ear to ear with an extremely large bouquet of vibrant crimson coloured roses and an envelope in her hands. “What the hell?” I laughed. “Awww, did you get me flowers?” I teased.

“Haha, very funny.” She laughed. “I didn’t, but I have a feeling I may know who they’re from!” she shrieked excitedly as she handed me the flowers and the envelope, before skipping into my room and closing the door. “Chantelle” written quite beautifully in cursive painted across the front of the envelope. I set the flowers down on my bed and took a seat beside them as I opened the envelope. “Guten Morgen Schönheit,” it read.

“I just realized we never exchanged numbers, would love to hear from you before I see you tonight. I know roses are a bit typical, but they’re beautiful…not as beautiful as you, but close! Here is my number. Looking forward to seeing you again.

- König.”

Aw! I don’t think I can remember the last time a man bought me flowers, especially when it wasn’t necessary. He could have easily messaged Adrian for my number or have had her give me his, but I like that he put some thought and effort into it! I think I must’ve re-read the note at least 30 times, a goofy smile smeared across my face as I drowned out Adrian’s numerous questions. “Are you even listening to me?!” She asked as she shook my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I laughed. “What did you say?”

“What the hell happened last night?” She asked. See, I knew she wasn’t paying attention. “Soo…we kissed. Well, he kissed me.” I said as I felt my cheeks heating up, undoubtedly turning a bright shade of red as my mind replayed the moment we kissed by the bar rail. “How did I miss that?” She asked.

“You were sloshed.” I cackled as I watched her brows furrow. “You were glued to one of König’s friends pretty much the entire night, and telling the whole table these suuuuper elaborate stories, theatrical hand movements and all.” I continued, laughing harder as I recalled what she looked like while she spoke. “Fuck…yeah I don’t even remember getting home to be honest. I’m surprised I’m not sick right now, but I suspect it’s because I’m still kinda drunk.” She giggled. “So how was it?!? I need all the deets.”

“Incredible would be an understatement, that’s all I will say…I’m supposed to have dinner with him later tonight.”

“That’s my girl! I told you that man was into you.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I know, Adri. He’s just…kinda intimidating. I’ve also never dated a man this much older than me.” The whole age gap thing doesn’t really bother me, it’s just different! Not even gonna lie, its a bit exciting…he’s probably very experienced, but considering I haven’t slept with very many people, I am a little worried about not meeting his expectations. I also feel like I’m reciprocating his interest in more than just sex, and that’s making me a little nervous as well. The last thing I would want is to develop strong feelings for someone who lives so many miles away. Even though we only hung out for a couple of hours at a crowded bar, in between all of the sexual tension was great conversation and a medley of common interests. In all honesty, he’s really just one big, giant, sexy dork. He’s funny, he’s intelligent and well spoken, and it seems he can also be a little shy at times too, but a part of me is hoping it’s just me that brings that out of him. “I mean, I get it, but don’t let any of that psych you out. Don’t overthink it, Chantelle.” Adrian said. “Text him! Or call him, he may be on the base right now actually. Tell him to tell Horangi I said Hi!” She laughed as she walked towards my room door. “Think I’m gonna grab a couple more hours of sleep.”

“No problem girl, you definitely need it.” I giggled.

I stared at my phone, the number from the note in the envelope typed into my contacts and saved under ‘König🙈💕’. My thumb loomed over the “Send Message” button. Why is this so hard? Maybe because I don’t know what I want to say to him. Obviously I would like to thank him for these gorgeous roses, because it was just so…cute! And even though I literally know he wants to hear from me, my heart is beating so fast it feels like it could literally burst right out of my chest. I began to type, “Good morning König, it completely slipped my mind that we didn’t have each other’s numbers, I appreciate you reaching out to give me yours. Thank you so much for the flowers, they are stunning 🙈 How is your day going so far?” I took a deep breath and hit send, damn near throwing my phone to the other side of the bed. I stared up at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity before I heard my phone ding. I didn’t wanna look at first, for fear of it not being him and getting disappointed, but I sucked it up and reached across the bed for my phone. iMessage König🙈💕. I typed in my passcode and opened the message. “I’m glad you liked them, they reminded me of you 🙂🌹 I’m actually on the base at the moment, finished up a bit of training with a few recruits, now I’m just in my office taking care of some paperwork. How are you?” He texted. Below the text was a photo of him in what I assumed was his office, decked out in FULL tactical gear. I’ve seen military men in uniform many times before, but I’d never seen anything quite like this. This must be what Adrian was talking about before. His sniper hood — the black cloth that draped over his face underneath a helmet, eye black smudged around his blue orbs, the only part of his face that remained visible. I don’t quite know how to describe how I feel seeing this version of him for the first time, though it’s very reminiscent of how I felt the first time I saw him at the train station. It sure is a shocking sight. Definitely adds to the overall intimidation factor that comes with him as whole. I bet it does an amazing job at scaring off the opposing side. Hm. I never really thought I’d be into the whole ‘masked man’ thing, but seeing him like this is making me think otherwise. I can’t help but fantasize about being in that office with him right now. I can’t stop picturing myself underneath his desk with my fingers gently wrapped around his long, hard, throbbing cock, my tongue gliding over his leaking tip as he looks down at me. His mask and eye paint drawing emphasis to the look of absolute gratification in his stormy eyes, while his large fingers twist themselves up in my hair, pushing my lips further down around his shaft. My thighs clench together at the thought, desire seeping through my folds as I continue to look at the picture, relishing in the various naughty scenarios being conjured up in my mind. Oh, God why do I like this? “I hope my hood hasn’t scared you off 😅” he texted, immediately shaking me out of my trance. I figured I may as well send him a selfie back, but I began wondering if I should change out of my pyjamas — a large black Nirvana Tee and a pair of panties. Maybe I can have a little fun with this. I tapped on my camera app and posed, my shirt strategically pulled up a bit to give him a little sneak peak at the red thong currently nestled between my ass cheeks. “My day is just getting started! Your mask didn’t scare me at all…is it weird that I kinda like it? 😜🙈” I texted, sending the message along with the photo I’d just taken. “Maybe just a little hahaha, but I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to wear it for you in person sometime 😉” He texted back shortly after. “Do you sleep that way or did you put that on just for me?🤔😏” I giggled as I read the text, biting my lip as I thought of how to respond. It’s obvious that his military attire has lit a fire in my core, and I want him to know, but a little teasing never hurt anyone. “Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t usually wear anything at all to bed.” I responded.

“Oh is that so? ”

“Mhm…🙈”

“You’re very distracting, how am I supposed to get any of this work done now?”

“Me? Distracting? What ever do you mean? 🤨🤭”

“Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing, Maus, and it’s working.”

“What am I doing?”

“Making me want to drop everything to come keep you company in that bed, and give you a taste of what’s to come…I’d make sure you woke up with a smile on that gorgeous face jeden morgen.” Fuck.

“Yeah? And how would you do that?”

“Well first of all, I’m a hell of a cook, I’d make you whatever you’d like.”

“French toast?”

“With a nice side of the best bacon you’ve ever had, along with some fresh fruit 😋”

“Mmm…that sounds absolutely delightful!”

“After I’ve satisfied your tastebuds, I’ll make sure to satisfy you in every other way possible.”

“What else do you think would satisfy me?”

“A number of things, starting with slow passionate kisses…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of your lips, but I bet the ones between your legs are much sweeter. I’m dying to taste you.” My breath began to labour as I read his texts, warm slick seeping from my folds and through my panties as my fingers gently caress over my swollen clit. “How badly do you want me?”

“So bad I might rip through my cargo pants…” He sent another photo, only this one didn’t have his face — or rather eyes — in it. It wasn’t your typical ‘dick pic’, there was no nudity, but I certainly saw a lot. I stared, dumbfounded at the size of the print outlined beneath his cargo pants. I kinda figured it would be big, but I didn’t think it would be that big. I’ve never had anything that size but I got hot just thinking of taking it. Feeling him fill me up, pushing that boundary between pleasure and pain, fuck. I pulled my fingers from my panties, my juices coating them as I positioned my phone above them, capturing the strings of wetness connecting my index and middle fingers. “Komm und koste mich 💋” I sent along with the photo. “Schiße…maybe you might be the one who ends up being bad for my health 😂”

“Maybe neither of us is bad for the other…” A couple minutes of silence passed before I received another text. I figured he’d gotten caught up with work, or some…other kind of interference, but it appears he may have had something a little more serious on his mind. “I do think it is important to stress that as badly as I want you this way, it isn’t the only thing I want. I just want to make sure you know that I don’t just want your body, I want more than that.” He texted.

“What else do you want?” I replied.

“What I mentioned last night at the bar…to be able to come home to a woman as beautiful as you. I want you to be mine.”

7pm came a lot quicker than I’d expected it to. I guess it helps that König and I have been texting back and forth for pretty much the entire day. By the time he arrived to pick me up, I was ready to go. I decided to go with a black, mid length, form fitting off the shoulder dress, and a pair of strappy black heels. I styled my hair with my curling iron and parted it down the middle, before accessorizing with a pair of Diamond earrings, and my black faux snakeskin clutch. Makeup was perfect, not overbearing but not too light either, and then for the finishing touch, a few spritzes of Chanel’s Mademoiselle perfume. I damn near raced down the stairs, waving goodbye to Adrian and her aunt and uncle before walking out the door. Butterflies began to swarm about my stomach as he and I locked eyes, he was leaning against the front end of his car, fidgeting with his keys as he waited for me. He looks even better than usual — wearing a pair of medium wash denim jeans, a white crew neck shirt and a nice leather jacket. His hand outstretched to me as I approached him. I placed my hand in his as he gently pulled me in closer, placing his finger beneath my chin and tilting upward. “Hallo meine schatz,” he smiled as he leaned downward, placing his lips softly against my forehead. “Du siehst heute Abend sehr schön aus.” He whispered as he held my gaze.

“Dankeschön.” I said, biting my lip as he leaned forward to close the gap between our lips, his kiss dripping with longing and fervour. “Let’s get going, ja?” He breathed as his thumb gently grazed against my bottom lip. He quickly leaned back in for one more kiss before we got into the car. Ugh, I can’t get enough — and apparently, neither can he.

We arrived shortly thereafter at a very nice Italian restaurant. He pulled my chair out for me before taking his seat. It’s so sad that this is the first time I’m actually experiencing genuine chivalry, but men in North America do not behave this way. If anything, majority of the time it’s the complete opposite, but I won’t even get started on all that. The waiter placed menus in front of us both and filled our glasses with water, before departing as we looked over the menus. “Do you see anything that catches your eye yet?” He asked, a slight smirk appearing on his lips as his eyes peered up from behind his menu. “Maybe,” I began, fighting back a smile as I took a sip of my water. “How would you feel about a bottle of wine? Do you prefer red or white?” He asked.

“I do prefer white, but kinda in the mood for red wine tonight.

“Perfect!”

“Everything on this menu sounds incredible, but I think I’m gonna go with the Chicken Parmigiana with Linguine Pomodoro.”

“I think I’m going to go with the streak and veggies, been a long time since I’ve had a good steak.”

“Mmm that sounds yummy too, it’s definitely going to taste great with the red wine as well.”

“Oh definitely.” He smiled as he set his menu aside, his hand reaching for mine across the table, gently holding it in his as his thumb grazed against my fingers. I absolutely adore how affectionate he is. He is so different from the man I imagined he would be. While I’m sure there’s a side of him that is ruthless and aggressive, given his profession, he’s so sweet with me, and I have a feeling this is a side not very many get to see. He brought my hand up to his lips, planting soft little kisses along my fingers. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are.” He said “Ich könnte dich den ganzen Tag ansehen” he smiled, his cheeks adorning a faint shade of pink. Is he blushing? “Danke,” I blushed. “You look great tonight as well, the leather suits you.” I smirked.

“Oh what, this old thing?!?!” He said knowingly.

“Mhm, you know you look good, stop pretending you don’t.” I giggled.

“Hey, I admit to nothing.” He laughed as he raised both hands in defence. I laugh as the waiter returned to take our orders. “Are we ready to order?” He asked. “Ja,” König said. “Meine dame will have the chicken parmigiana and the linguine pasta, I will have the steak, medium, with a side of vegetables and mashed potatoes. May we also have a bottle of red wine please?” Something about him asserting dominance and placing my order for me had me clenching around nothing. I find it so incredibly sexy that he manages to remain refined and polite, all while also being stern. That tinge of aggression I see in him when he addresses others, and the attention he commands is exhilarating. As much as I can’t wait to eat, I’m yearning to be satiated in other ways that don’t involve food.

We remained at the restaurant for another 2 hours post dinner talking about everything and anything under the sun. I learned that he will soon be retiring from the army, enjoys fishing and hunting in his spare time, and collects vintage comic books. He’s a huge fan of all things classic rock and metal, but he also enjoys smooth jazz. He’s got a soft spot for cats and animals in general. He has a 5 year old black cat named Moritz, and adopted two German Shepherds for his base as pets. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, and I believe we both learned quite a bit about each other, and we both seemed to like what we learned. My nerves returned as we got into his car. What happens now? I’m really trying to decide what I’d like my next move to be. Should I go home, or should I go home with him? “Two days left before you go back, right?” He asked as he turned to me, a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Yes, unfortunately.” I sighed. “I wish I could stay longer, especially considering we’ve only just begun to get to know each other.”

“I also wish you could stay longer, but I assume you have a whole other life to get back to in Kanada” he sighed. “How do you feel about continuing to see each other, despite the distance?” I tried to contain my surprise as I pondered his question. I guess I never really thought he’d be interested in that, but it seems like every assumption I’ve made about König has proven to be incorrect thus far. Long distance relationships always make me uncomfortable, even though I’ve never been in one. Though I know it isn’t a relationship, at least not just yet, I do have my reservations about an arrangement such as this one. However, I do think I lucked out here. It’s not very often that you run into your dream guy on an impromptu weekend trip to Vienna. I think I’d be doing myself a disservice if I ended things on the basis of distance. “I still want to see you…I like where things are going.” I blushed, smiling as I saw excitement gleaming in his eyes. “I’m very happy to hear that.” He smiled as he leaned over to kiss me. “Sie werden es nicht bereuen, Maus.” He said lowly against my lips. I looked up at him, my heart beat picking up pace as we searched each other’s eyes. You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife, and I think at this point the only logical option here is…I’m going home with him. “König,” I whispered.

“Yes?” He asked, gently resting his large hand over my thigh, causing a myriad of goosebumps to appear all over my body. “I’m not ready for the night to be over.” I said, a devious grin dancing on his lips as he started the car. “Would you like to come back home with me, Maus?” He asked, his hand gently gliding along my thigh, sliding upwards toward my core. “Yes.” I breathed as I reached over, pulling him down against my lips. It wasn’t long before what was meant to be a small peck turned into a full blown make out sesh, our tongues massaging against one another’s as his hand gently slipped beneath my dress. He pulled away, earnestly searching my expression for confirmation to go further. I nodded and pulled him back into me, moaning into the kiss as his calloused fingers approached my soaking wet folds. “Schiße…” he breathed as his fingers explored me through my panties, an array of tiny moans escaping my lips as his thumb rubbed against my swollen nub. His lips moved to my neck, softy sucking and biting along my sweet spots as he pulled my panties to the side. “Oh Maus,” he whispered, as he slowly inserted two of his fingers into my pussy. “You’re so tight…” he said as he began thrusting his fingers. “So fucking wet and I’ve barely even touched you yet.” He breathed against my lips, gently nipping at the bottom one as he pulled away and cupped my cheek. His expression riddled with satisfaction as he watched me squirm beneath his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes.” I moaned, as he pulled his fingers from my sopping wet cunt. “Good girl.” He praised, as he slowly pushed his fingers between my lips. I leaned forward, sucking my juices off of his fingers, my gaze never leaving his. “Mmm, that’s it liebe.” He said, indulging in the sight of me delighting in the nectar he’d procured from my folds. He grabbed hold of my chin and pulled me in for yet another kiss, but this one was different, it’s was needy and aggressive. His hand reached back down between my legs, his thumb resuming its slow and gentle dance over my swollen clit. “Such a beautiful little thing,” he whispered into my ear, his fingers reentering me, my head reflexively falling back as he massaged my g spot. “I can’t wait to pin your legs back and watch your toes curl as you take every inch of this cock.” He said, guiding my hand towards the large bulge in his jeans.

“Please König,” I begged. “I wanna feel you so bad.” My palm gently stroking against his hardness through his pants.

He smirked as his fingers slipped out of me, bringing them up to his lips and licking them clean. “You taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He said.

I slowly slipped the shoulders of my dress down my arms as König laid back on his bed, watching intently as my dress fell to the floor, my bra and panties following closely behind. He wandered about my curves through hooded eyes, drinking in every inch of me, his gaze growing dark as his bulge practically begged for release. I climbed on top of the bed and knelt beside him, unbuttoning his jeans as he reached for the hem, helping me slide them off and kicking them to the side. More than half of his hardened length lay erect against his stomach, peeking out from the waistband of his boxer briefs. Precum oozed from his blushing tip, droplets decorating the lower half of his stomach over his happy trail. I pulled down his boxers, jaw slack as I stared down at the entirety of his impressive length. “Fuck…” I said under my breath.

“Don’t worry, Maus. We’ll take it slow.” He reassured, clearly noticing the slight fear in my eyes. I nodded as I climbed a top his waist, straddling his hips as his hands began to squeeze and grope at my ass cheeks. We began to kiss, our bodies growing hot with anticipation, my hips gently grinding down, rubbing my engorged clit against his throbbing cock, covering him in the wetness spilling from my core. He wrapped his arm around my waist and flipped me onto my back, hovering over me as he planted rough, wet kisses along my neck and over my chest. His lips engulfing one of my nipples, as his hand clasped around the other, rolling my nipple between his finger tips. “Oh God…”I breathed heavily, my nipples growing hard and sensitive as he licked and sucked, gently biting and tugging on my nipple before switching sides. He began making his way down my stomach, kissing along my inner thighs before stopping to admire my needy cunt. “Such a beautiful pussy,” he muttered before hooking his arms beneath my legs, lifting me slightly off the bed as he pulled me into his face. “Fuck…” I moaned, quite loudly as his tongue engaged my nub, ferociously lapping and flicking against it as my hands grabbed hold of his bedsheets. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “You taste incredible…so fucking wet for me, meine Maus” he breathed, his breath hot against my folds as he darted his tongue inside me. “Fuck, König !” I exclaimed, the build of my impending climax growing more and more intense with each passing moment. “Let go for me, I want you to cum all over my tongue.” He growled. “Cum for me, Maus” adrenaline washed over me as I released, my orgasm pulsating through my body as he continued to suck on my hardened clit. His arms departed my legs as he lay flat and I attempted to catch my breath, three of his fingers entering my pussy, thrusting uncontrollably. My pussy squelched and clenched around his fingers as he began to curl upward, torturing my g spot as he continued to suck on my clit. “Oh König, you’re so good…I can’t,” I gasped. “I’m gonna cum again, oh my god”

“That’s it, Maus.” He praised as a second orgasm washed over me, this one much more intense than the one prior. “Mmm, mein Got you taste so fucking good. Look at the mess that desperate little cunt of yours made.” He panted. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”

“König, please.” I cried out, eyes hazy from the back to back euphoria my body just experienced. “Please fuck me.” I begged.

“You look so beautiful all dripping and spent.” he smirked as he leaned back onto his heels, grabbing his thick dick and sliding it up against my overstimulated clit. “I wanna hear you beg for it, Maus.” He smirked as he continued to tease my entrance with the head of his cock. “Auf Deutsch.” He said as he leaned over me, positioning himself by my entrance before leaning down to kiss me. “Bitte…” I stuttered. “Bitte fick mich, König.” I moaned as he slowly began pressing inward. “That’s what I like to hear.” He whispered, his eyes locked on mine, watching as my eyes widened at the sensation of his girthy cock sliding into me little by little. “Mmmm.” We moaned in unison, his hand clasping around my neck as he gently thrusted deeper and deeper into me. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Maus?” He asked as he bottomed out in me, his tip kissing my cervix. “For me to stretch out this pretty little tight cunt…destroy your cute little hole, Ja?”

“Yes.” I moaned, growing lightheaded as his grip on my neck tightened while he began to pick up the pace. “Yeah?” He moaned mockingly. “So tight, meine liebe…fuck you feel amazing.” He moaned against my lips. “You’re taking me so fucking well.” He growled, eyes piercing into me as he thrusted harder and faster.

“God König…you’re so fucking big.” I moaned. “Love the way you fill me up.”

“Mmmm, that’s my girl. You take it so well too, Maus.” He praised as he pulled my legs onto his shoulders, my moans growing louder and louder as he fucks me senseless. Obscene noises filling the air as my pussy gushes around his cock.“You’re such a good fucking girl for me.” He panted, swiftly pulling out of me and flipping me onto my stomach. He stood at the foot of the bed, grabbing me by my hips and pulling me towards him. I arched down, pushing my pussy down onto his cock as I looked back at him. His hand grabbed my hair, twisting it’s strands around his wrist as his other hand grabbed hold of my waist. He began to slam into me from behind, pulling me back against his chest by my hair. “God look at you,” he whispered. “So fucking cock drunk.” He breathed as his hand moved up from my waist to grab hold of one of my tits. My body begins to shake beneath his grip. “It’s so fucking good.” I moaned, tears stinging the corners of my eyes as he fucked my overstimulated cunt, shockwaves rumbling within my core as his cock twitched inside me, repeatedly caressing my cervix. My legs began to shake. “König I — I’m gonna cum” I cried out.

“Good.” He whispered as he spanked my ass. “I’m gonna cum with you…where do you want it?” He asked.

“My ass.” I moaned, my orgasm paralyzing me shortly after. He followed closely behind, whimpering as he quickly pulled out of me, his juices splattering all over my ass. He pulled my face towards his, placing a long tender kiss on my lips. “Du warst so gut.” He panted as he pressed his forehead against mine, cupping my cheek in his palm as we both tried to catch our breaths. I leaned forward and kissed him once more before he jogged over to his bathroom, bringing back a fresh towel and wiping his cum off of my ass. “Can I get you a glass of water, Maus?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind before kissing my cheek. “Sure.” I said as I smiled up at him.

That was incredible.

[ghcstao3]

OMG I NEED YOU TO WRITE THE NEIGHBOURS GHOSTSOAP FIC PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU PLEASE PLEASE PL

(part 1)

-

Ghost wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on his front door—to which he feels the need to frown at, because he hadn’t been expecting any visitors.

When he grumpily swings open the door to find John on the other side, his irritation subsides, just a little.

“Mornin’!” John greets, his grin far too bright for—Ghost lifts his wrist and squints down at his watch—nine in the morning. “Brought you something. Or, well. My Mam made them so I could bring you—“

Ghost raises a tired hand to wag his finger and point at the container in John’s hands, asking in lazy movements, “What is it?”

“Oh!” John blinks. He thrusts the container into Ghost’s unoccupied hand, and somehow his smile grows tenfold. “Tattie scones. Wasn’t sure what you might like, so. Went with something simple.”

Ghost squints at John a moment, before swallowing a yawn as he offers a mumbled thank you and pries open the lid. He holds it out to John, but he just shakes his head.

“I have my own. Just wanted to apologize for the noise.”

Ghost nods, stuffs a scone in his mouth, closes the lid. He then steps aside and gestures for John to enter the flat because he supposes it’s courtesy, and if he’s making tea for one he may as well offer for another.

John follows with a shrug.

“Tea?” Ghost asks. Then pauses, considering, before he scrunches his nose and signs instead, “Coffee?”

John barks a laugh, shaking his head again. “I won’t force you to make coffee if you hate it. Just water, if that’s okay?”

Ghost obliges, traversing his kitchen as John sits politely at the island. He feels eyes on his back all the while he fetches the water and puts on a kettle, but for once Ghost doesn’t feel unnerved by the sensation. In fact, dare he say he feels almost… comforted.

They sit in silence a while as the water boils and even a while after, nothing more than the shriek of the kettle to break it, and Ghost’s quiet compliments to John’s mother for the scones.

After a few tentative sips of tea and a refill for John, Ghost ventures to begin signing a question that had plagued him since meeting his neighbour.

He only mouthes the words as he signs, rediscovering that comfort in silent communication that he’d had to abandon in his retirement if only for not having anyone left to share it with.

“How did you…” Ghost pauses, wincing slightly as he questions, “…have you always been deaf?”

John’s smile has since dimmed considerably, though it’s no less friendly. He only uses sign for about half of what he says, and if Ghost could guess, it’s likely a clashing mix of habits.

“Not always,” John says. “I was in the military. Specialized in demolitions, got too close to an explosion, though my hearing was already shite by then. Had to retire early, but so is life, I guess.”

Ghost smiles weakly. “We’re not so different, then.”

John’s eyebrows knit together with curiosity, so Ghost takes the invitation to continue. Normally, he doesn’t think he’d ever be so open with a near complete stranger—but sharing that background, somehow it seems… easier.

He knows Price would be a right smug bastard about this if he knew.

“Also military. Retired from injury. Knee is fucked.”

John snorts. “I’m sure that’s one way of putting it.”

Ghost shrugs. They fall back into comfortable, companionable silence until John announces he should go, he does have work to attend to.

“What do you do?” Ghost can’t help but wonder.

“Boring office stuff from home,” John tells him. “Art commissions on the side, if I’m up to it. You?”

Ghost huffs. “Working on it,” he mutters. He doesn’t particularly care for John knowing about that.

The man seems to understand anyway, but says nothing of it. He just thanks Ghost again for the company, Ghost thanks him for the scones, and they bid each other a good rest of their day.

It’s weird—as Ghost hears John’s door shut across the hall, he finds he already misses his presence.

Maybe he should dig up some of his mum’s old recipes and return the favour. It’s definitely not an excuse, or anything like that, just… friendly neighbour activities.

Yeah. That’s all it is.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idea I've had for highschool sweetheart to make könih further rot in guilt because it's silly and amusing that I simply had to share <3

In cliques of the nature of his bullies there are always the internal dynamics people outside don't see. Like how one person is never felt true compliments, only back handed ones if not just straight up insults. Fed lies about how no one else would ever be friends with them, the punching bag of within the clique to keep the glue of the group strong and firm. Naturally it would have been the shyest and most bookish person within the group. But you've known these people your entire life they didn't always act like this they used to be kind and good. (right? they, they were kind once right?) so day dreams become an escape because how could anyone be friends with you? How could anyone tolerate you? Especially after you were around the clique, how could you ever approach the quiet boy who you knew they picked on. He must hate you. You longed to be friends (don't delude yourself you didn't wish to be friends you wished to be lovers but start small right). How could you ever approach him. And then graduation comes and you're abandoned. You can heal and begin to find your personhood. You can pick the shattered pieces of your confidence up off the floor and glue your life back together. It takes years but eventually you gather up the courage to reach out to the boy after he misses the reunion. You want to apologize for your passivity at least. You must after all. (You were children and both victims in your own right but how could this ever be spoken of? You must play the role of the bystander because who would ever believe otherwise? You may have healed but there are still cracks of course.) and much later maybe he learns all this, maybe he reads it in a journal or a letter addressed to him, maybe you finally get the courage to tell him. And the guilt and rot grows like fungus over his heart, eating his anger alive and churning out something like grief in return. Not that you'd noticed the anger, you just saw the second chance, of course he would be wary of you, of course he would have changed over the decade, but a decade of growth was only done on the foundation of the boy you loved before. How could you not love the man he's become now?

tee hee I'm going insane I hope you enjoy my little ramble

Yes yes yes the delicious reveal of how it was for her, that she wasn’t having a happy time in the clique, that she, too, was suffering! ❤️‍🩹

In my opinion König would eventually come to his senses. If we’re treating this scenario with actual seriousness, he would eventually see that what he’s doing is useless and stupid and hurtful and unjust to both of them. I mean he’s clinically insane, he’s nasty and troubled and traumatized and works for a fucking PMC and tortures people but... he’s not rotten to the core. König is like a stray dog that bites if it feels like it’s about to get cornered and beaten again, and that’s his viewpoint with high school sweetheart actually. It may sound silly and misplaced but he’s just too triggered to see that he’s about to do a royal fuck-up with her.

And the unbearable shame when he realizes? When he faces the thing he has become? It’s simply too much to bear, he has worked so hard on himself & to put that shit behind him, he’s built confidence from scratch, he’s built actual, physical muscle just to feel better about himself, he probably joined the military because it was his middle finger to the world. Yes, he had aspirations and actual passions concerning the sniper dream but he’s also driven by this need to prove a shitload of people wrong.

And in walks this babe who reminds him of a time when he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. How do you love that? Because ultimately, it means you have to love yourself and who you were before you became the incredible Austrian Hulk. At the core of it is a 6 feet deep insecurity because König doesn’t feel he’s worthy of her at all.

I think the only thing that would cleanse his heart from pain is the revelation that she suffered too. As sad as it is, that’s what makes his heart crack open because then he gets to play the savior. But then comes the “Do you still love me even if I almost turned into the monster I always battled against” part… Because König would pay her authenticity "generously" by revealing the bully he almost became. And I think that’s when high school sweetheart really needs to ask herself if she’s up for this kind of shit, if she’s actually ready to love this man who isn’t as cool and tough as she thought he was, who is deeply flawed and resentful and childish and cruel.

Part of her probably knows that already and even loves his flaws, but loving König is like loving that stray dog. He’s gonna bring fleas and dried-up mud into your house eventually. Especially if you feed him and give him a scratch… Put a nice, cosy bed for him by the fire... Tell him he's cute when he whines next to your bed... Teach him it’s ok to prefer to sleep with you instead :/

[storiesbysoup]

Weighted Blanket.

lieutenant simon "ghost" riley x reader. 1743 word count. extra: for the millionth time, i am so so so sorry that part 2 is taking so long!! but!!! i've got my motivation back to write, case in point this little guy, so i'm gonna start working on part 2 again! also, for those of you who have put in requests, i will be getting to those! sorry for the wait! &lt;;3 MASTERLIST.

SYNOPSIS: Simon returns home after a night out with the guys to find you, overwhelmed and frankly almost done wit everything. He holds you.

Simon never truly anticipated being out as late as he had been the last few weeks until tonight. He'd thought that staying out until ten, maybe eleven, would not carry as much strain on you as it did but he was sorely mistaken. You were stressed but far more than what he initially had guessed.

He had gone out with the other members of the Task Force, watching as Soap got nearly black-out drunk and Price managed to embarrass Gaz more than needed after a single comment. These nights were ones he enjoyed, filled with cheers and Soap trying to play wing-man for the other members. When he tried for Simon, the poor Scot nearly had his tongue ripped out at the mere thought.

The high tolerance his body had to alcohol was something he really appreciated. He never drank much when he was coming home to you, with your aversion to alcohol as a whole being one thing that you had heavily expressed. He respected you far too much to deny you the smallest requests; he loved you far too much.

Now, at a strong 2 o’clock in the morning, he tried to sneak himself into your shared little apartment with little success. You were sat at the kitchen table, head propped up on an arm as tears strung themselves from your cheeks. You were in college, taking much harder classes than you needed to because of your counselor and their ridiculous choices for what you needed to take within a single semester. Shoulders heavy with both stress and exhaustion, you barely registered the fact he had walked into the apartment. 

Oh, he hated this. He hated seeing you overwhelmed like this. Hardened brown eyes softened as your tears fell down against the marble counter, forming little puddles underneath your quivering lip. You wiped at your face, cleaning it off before continuing the work at hand. It was something Simon never really understood, formula after formula of things that he would never even try to comprehend. 

Thankful that he didn’t reek of alcohol, Simon stepped closer to you ever so slowly until his hand made contact with your back. The feeling of your clothed skin jolting alarmed him in the worst way possible but he ignored it for a moment, letting his thumb rub circles around the muscles that had tensed within your back. Sympathy was the only thing he felt: he remembered when he began the military, all the studying they had him do to learn simple things. It was preposterous, but needed.

Your exhausted eyes dragged themselves from the homework at hand to Simon himself, watching him as he stared down at you with his silly black balaclava. A soft laugh escaped you at the sight. No matter what, when he was in public he would hide his face with some kind of face covering: that being a balaclava or a simple mask. As long as his identity was hidden to the world. He let your fingers trail up against the silk-like textures as you hooked one finger underneath the mask.

One finger turned into two, then three and four until your hands themselves were tugging it up and above his lips. Eyes meeting in the middle, yours asking the simplest of questions and his responding with an answer before you continued. The scruff of his unshaven beard scratched at your hands as you cupped his cheeks with your palms, allowing your tired gaze to pin it to memory before continuing to drag it off. One by one his features were revealed to your gaze.

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen Simons face – far from it, actually – but it was the first time you’d gotten to take the mask off. You believed he was scared of what you’d say, of what you’d do if he let you. That’s why you were so gentle with him, taking your time to let him be comfortable with the new concept of you taking his mask off. His breath was shaky but he refused to move: you were the one who needed him, not the other way around.

When the mask came off, you nearly cried. It’d been so long since you’d last gotten to view your lovers face that you’d nearly forgotten, though it was heavily exaggerated as his face was the most beautiful drawing in all of history. He leaned in, knowing what you craved immediately and latching his lips to yours. Typically the ‘welcome home’ kiss he gave you was passionate and hungry, craving more and more of your plump lips but this one was different.

This kiss was soft, gentle: it was loving. He took his time when kissing you, a hand coming up to support the back of your neck as he sighed out. Simon pulled back shortly after, pressing his forehead against yours as his brown eyes bore into your own. You both were exhausted in your own regards, you with homework and Simon with his military work. He and the rest of the team were on leave as of right now, but you couldn’t help but sympathize with the man that stood in your hands. 

“Baby… oh, my baby…”

The tears that had subsided were now re-emerging at the gentleness of his voice, your arms slipping down to wrap around his neck. You pulled yourself into him, letting out a confused noise as he picked you up by the thighs and held you against his body. You underestimated just how strong he was due to his training, but appreciated it nonetheless as you sighed. The sniffled sounds of you trying to apologize for crying against his body were drowned out by him shushing you.

A silent walk comforted you as he carried you towards the dark bedroom that sat in the back of the apartment. You didn’t mind the darkness that comforted the back of the little home, especially with how bright the rest of the apartment had been throughout the day. Simon laid you down on your back, laughing softly at the whine you made in response due to the lack of his warmth. He turned back, taking off his outdoor clothes and changing quickly into a t-shirt and his boxers. 

He laid beside you, motioning towards his chest. “Come here… lay your head on my chest, love.” It wasn’t an offer, more of a demand though you accepted it graciously. Your head slid against the warmth of his chest, allowing your ear to press against the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Simon slowed his breathing to a calmer one, hands pressed against the warmth of your back. He watched as your head rose and fell with his chest. “Wrap my arms around you like this…”

Simons arms were one of your favorite things about him in general. Strong, wide warms with more muscle than he could do with that held you so delicately. There were times that he would refer to you as ‘little pet’ or something of the sort, and you constantly questioned it. Why, of all pet-names, did he choose the embarrassing ones? It wasn’t until you had the chance to ask Price who filled you in.

Apparently, it was a slang word that was used throughout Britain for a partner. Price had said it was a playful term for someone you feel affection towards: someone you love. You felt loved by Simon no matter what he did, but felt your heart grow at least a size when you learned such a thing. He was such a softie on the inside…

“Are you okay, baby? Hey, just relax ‘n breathe for a bit, yea?”

His hand traced your hair, letting you intake his masculine everything as he holds you. It never failed to amaze you just how easily he could calm you down, even after a rough day. His lips graced the crown of your head, allowing you to feel him against your skin directly. Your eyes flicker upwards as you look at him, the soft smile on his face melting your heart. 

“I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ve got you now, you’re okay; we’ll tackle this together. Nice ‘nd slow…”

One of his hands brushed against your cheekbone, brushing against the gentle skin as his wide brown eyes admired your face. He sighed out, the breath coming from his nose tickling your face and causing you to giggle. “God, you’re so beautiful… I am so fucking lucky to have you in my life.” This was more emotion than Simon had shown you in a majority of your relationship. You didn’t view it was odd, more so just as his way of expressing himself. Emotions were something Simon was still gaining traction with, and the progress he was making showed itself proudly.

“I love you.”

The both of you interrupted each other with the same words, both stopping before bursting into a fit of giggles as you held each other. His gentleness had warmed up your sour mood to the point where you felt ready to tackle your work once more. You knew Simon wouldn’t let you until you’ve relaxed for at least a few hours, but you were still proud of the small accomplishments you had made.

Simon pressed his lips to your forehead once again, rubbing his thumbs against your skin just as he had before. “I love you, pet.” That pet-name sent shivers down your spine as you kissed at his skin. You’d never get to see this treatment in front of others, as he kept this side of him more personal and to the two of you. Away from prying eyes, Simon was much more expressive than what others believed. He cracked jokes often and poked fun at you all throughout the day. 

You sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that night, burying your face into the warm heat of his body. Every piece of him felt perfect when lined up against you, and you loved it more than anything else. He was like your own version of a weighted blanket, except he could talk and move instead of simply sitting there and being heavy. Truth be told, the two of you were like weighted blankets for each other: sometimes he would come home for a night or two and ask you to simply lay on him. The pressure you gave his body would relieve the pain and tenseness that clutched his shoulders and back.

written by storiesbysoup© 2023. I do not condone anyone translating my works and/or stealing them.

[scoonsalicious]

3.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of Bucky's past, minor fluff.

Word Count: 482

Previously On...: Bucky and Lily went out to brunch, and Bucky lied about his upcoming plans with you.

A/N: I'm going to let you all know well in advance that, once I finish posting through Chapter 5, I am going to take a small break from updating so I can write (I'm thinking maybe a week, tops). I've had some things going on recently that have been taking up a lot of my mental and emotional energy, which has prevented me from being as invested in the story as I want to be, so I need to take some time to get myself in the right headspace to where the story just flows out. I'm currently only two chapters ahead, and that makes me nervous, so I would like to build my buffer back up again. So, there will be a pause in updates starting on Tuesday, May 14th, and updates will resume on Tuesday, May 21st. I do hate doing this, and I know that, as a reader, it's so annoying when you have to wait between updates, but it needs to be done in order to provide you with the best story possible. I probably should have taken more time between finishing Unwanted and beginning to post With Friends Like These..., but I was too eager to share it with all of you to wait, lol. I want to be upfront and honest with all of you ahead of time, so I hope you understand.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You’d spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon digging up everything you could about Bucky’s trial. At first, you were getting nowhere, not being able to find any information about ‘Bucky Barnes,’ but then you nearly slapped yourself on the head when you recalled Lily referring to him as ‘Jamie.’ Obviously, ‘Bucky’ was a nickname, and once you searched ‘James Barnes + trial,” you were nearly overwhelmed by the number or results you got.

Meticulously, you went through them, as if you were gathering intelligence for a military op. You read all about his history in World War II with Steve (which, admittedly, you sort of already knew about from Nat), but things took a turn when you discovered he’d been declared MIA: Presumed Dead, only to resurface around 2014.

You nearly started crying when you read what had been done to him– the loss of his arm, the experiments, the serum, all under the control of the terrorist group, Hydra. The brainwashing. And you really did start to cry when you read about what Hydra had made him do for them. The assassinations, the murders. Screw whatever Zadie and Rand thought. This poor man was a victim. One who didn’t deserve to spend a moment behind bars. Your heart positively broke for him. 

You were wiping the tears from your eyes when Zadie popped her head in. “Hey, Major,” she said, a devilish smile on her face. “You got a delivery.”

You look back at her, puzzled. You weren’t expecting anything. Getting up from your chair, you made your way to the front reception area. There, on Zadie’s desk, was a beautiful gold bowl holding a live fuschia orchid plant. 

“There’s a note!” Zadie squealed, bouncing on her toes and wringing her hands together in excited anticipation.

Biting your lip, you reached over and picked up the note. Unfolding it, you tried to make out the messy scrawl:

‘Major,

Thanks for bringing some beauty into my life last night. Figure it’s only fair I return the favor. Looking forward to seeing you tonight for dinner. - Bucky’

“Oh. My. God.” Zadie picked up a piece of paper from her desk and began fanning herself. “I don’t care how many people that guy murdered,” she said. “That’s the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” She paused. “How did he even know orchids are your favorite?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently running your finger along the edges of the soft petals. “I guess I’ll have to ask him tonight.” You looked back at the note, rereading it, and smiling. You felt your stomach fill up with butterflies, as though you were a sixteen year old girl again, getting flowers from a boy for the very first time. God, but this man seemed absolutely perfect. 

But you were never this lucky. You couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.

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