#mw2 reader insert

[emperor-palpaminty]

in which ghost and the hot doctor make out on the desk. sorry. this bitch keeps getting injured so it makes sense he would get in contact with the doctor a lot. Mentions sex stuff but not NWFS. Still gonna rate it 18+.

Edit: part 2 is here! Minors DNI. Smut hehe

Reblogs appreciated!

"You're all set, Riley." The doctor said, handing him his shirt. "Back to basic exercises and training starting tomorrow- no sparring for a week." The doctor, or Doc, he was told to call her- stood back, watching him unroll the fabric. "I have to admit, I'll miss the view." She teased, her loose medical coat swaying with the movement.

Ghost chuckled, lips smiling under the pushed-up mask. "You will now, won't ya?"

Doc hummed in mild agreement, gaze flickering in interest as her eyes drifted up to his jaw. "How's the stitches here?" She reached up, fingers a fluttering sensation over his face.

"Fine." Ghost tilted his head away, eyes following Doc's face. It was rounded, sweet, with a sinfully plump mouth and intelligent eyes. Her fingers moved over his skin, around the stitches- she was prodding it, gently, testing the area. "Good thing women like scars, innit, doc?"

She grinned, fingers turning, her knuckles stroking his jaw now. "Mm. I can vouch for myself, Ghost." She stepped away, picking up the clipboard, eyes still on him as he rolled the shirt onto his body. Plenty of touches had come from her end- some beyond what Ghost believed a regular medical examination typically called for.

"Tell me, doc." Ghost leaned forward on his knees, sliding off the examination table. "You flirt with all your patients?"

Doc looked up at him from looking at his chart. She smiled, brows cocking at the challenge as her eyes slid down his body. "Only the pretty ones, LT."

Ghost licked his lips, once, glancing back at the door. He slowly looked back towards the doctor, who watched him with eager eyes. His cock twitched- he would have been lying if he hadn't thought about her in every sense of the word 'carnal'. He shifted towards her, tilting his head. She sucked in a breath as if surpressing a sound, turning away from her desk. "Doc, seems like we finished a little early." He stepped towards her, slowly, walking at a leisurely pace.

She leaned back on her desk and dropped the chart behind her, eyes meeting his. "We did."

Ghost walked until he was inches in front of her, hands moving and pressing on the desk, either side of her.

Trapped.

Her eyes flashed up to his, a smile curling on the bright red lips. "You wear that lipstick for me, doc?" Ghost's finger ran under her chin, tilting it back to look up at him.

With a manner that was anything but bedside (more like, in the bed already), Doc looped a finger in the belt on his waist and tugged him in, eyes skimming what she could see of his face. "Depends. If you wanted me to, then yes."

"And if I didn't?" He craned his neck down, breath fanning over her face.

The sultry smile slipped into a sly one. "Then I would say you're wrong about that."

"Good sense, doc." Ghost leaned down, mouth crashing over hers. He stepped into her, pinning the back of her thighs to the desk. Doc's arms moved up, grasping his shirt, his mask, feeling him. Ghost groaned into the kiss, grinding his hips forward, just once, hard enough to get a preview of a moan from her against his mouth. She tasted sweet, foreign, but like want.

Ghost pulled away, reaching a hand up and brushing away at the lipstick, smudged now on her chin. He hummed in approval and stepped away. "What time?"

"Six."

"Done." Ghost called back, stepping out into the hall as he pulled his mask down. He grinned under it, pacing quickly towards the showers.

He had another doctor's appointment to get ready for. Albiet not of a medical nature.

[merowkittie]

price with his big bulky arm wrapped around your throat, his other splayed across your stomach, and your back is arching painfully up, curving into the older man’s chest. it was like you were made to be there. made to be here, sitting against his chest and taking everything he’s giving you. made to be mewling and drooling over the way his cock curved inside you and hit all the right spots to make your lights go out. and maybe you were made to be here, laying in his arms afterwards as his hands rub up and down your sides, as his lips press kisses into your temple, and his mustache tickles your hairline. maybe you were to be with john price.

[ghostedbunnie]

there's something empowering in holding the razor to simon's throat when shaving his face for him. it's peak intimacy for someone like him who doesn't trust easy.

but to you he is like a well adjusted cat, purring with his eyes closed while showing his belly. his most vulnerable parts.

it warms your heart and you need to show it so you take the razor away from his throat for a second to drop a barely there kiss on his freshly shaved cheek. simon only reacts with satisfied hum and cracking one eye open.

"what was that for?" he asks.

"just felt like it." you shrug not wanting to be all sappy.

[uglygirltrying]

barbarian!ghost x princess!reader | pt2 to this

princess!reader whose new life, after the wedding, was as easy as it could possibly be. she just had to sit still and look pretty. most difficult part of her new life, was her new husband. he's a hard head. a piece of work, as she liked to think. as if he could be changed.

barbarian!ghost who liked his new wife. enjoyed her, even. she's pretty, sure. but she's a good girl too. and he liked that. he liked how he needed to protect her. keep her safe and warm. fed and happy. and, he'd gladly do just that.

princess!reader whose stuff was starting to make itself home. her clothes filled the dresser. her vanity table stood against the wall. fresh vase of roses on the nightstand every morning.

her smell stuck on the pillows.

barbarian!ghost who would only trust his most loyal men to guard her. the men he trusted, not to let his wife get hurt. not get touched. the men he trusted, to always know, whose wife the princess was.

barbarian!ghost who would probably never admit how much he was actually ready to do for her.

how many men he would kill at her word, before ever asking anything in return.

how many kingdoms he would take over, just for her to wear their riches.

and how much he would sacrifice, just for her to sleep in his arms every night.

taglist: @soapisdaddy

sorry that it's so short, and barely anything. i didn't feel inspired. but i still wanted to post at least something, because it was requested🙏 if i get inspired, I'll probably rewrite in another style, not this listing thing yk

[v1x3n]

[bunny-jpeg]

i got a fever and the only cure is more john price!!

he fucks nasty, you thought that age would slow him down. but, no. you are worn out before he even breaks a sweat. years of training to his body has given him stamina like a bull. and he had the breeding balls to prove it!

you didn't mean to sleep with your captain, but now that he had you in his grasp. he wasn't loosening his grip, not until that belly got round and those tits got fat.

"was a big baby." he said, his voice tense as he pressing his cock down into you. he had you pinned under his hefty, hairy wait as his impressive (huge) cock battered your insides. prepping you to accept his thick cum. he had his bicep around your head and kept you pinned.

it wasn't even a full doggy style anymore, he just laid on top of you with his cock plugging your sweet pussy. your moans were pathetic, you were powerless to him.

"price's are grown quite big, big head and wide shoulders. but don't worry, i'll be there the whole time. makin' sure my woman is taken care of. carry them at your hip while i got ya pregnant with another." his licked his lips like a hungry dog at the thought of it all.

you thought it was just sick dirty talk by the way it made you pussy slicker. but price was laying it out as it was. he was going to breed you, you were going to have his children.

he is egged on by your moans. he had convinced himself that you were his wife, even though you had never even gone on a date before. you thought this was simple, on-base, casual sex. meanwhile price was trying to very blatantly baby trap you.

he chalked up your ignorance to you having better maternal instincts than actual smarts. but, that was alright, you were meant to be a mother anyway! don't worry, price will make it all better for his precious wife.

price wanted to see and document all the changes to your pregnant body, he wanted to see his child grow inside of you. proof that he had laid claim to him. then he'll set you up in a sleepy town in northern england and you can be his little wife.

you, him and the kids. maybe a guard dog or two to protect the property. gotta keep the family safe!

the sick, pervert thoughts overcame him like a wave as he drilled his cock into you. a promise that he was going to finish very soon. even if you wanted to escape, the weight on top of you and the blissed out mess in your mind prevented you from getting too far.

not until he got you pregnant.

when he creams inside of you. it's game over (sorry)! you thought that due to age and his lifestyle that his swimmers were next to nothing. but he'd been saving up. a long time without a hole to fuck had made his biology desperate to pass his genes along.

so when he got you in a headlock while he rocked up into you, spearing your pretty pussy open, get ready for motherhood (yay)! because even trying to sneak off to get plan b will do nothing. you waited too long or the pills were ineffective.

as he rubbed your swollen middle on the couch of the sweet little home you (he) owned, his face brushed up against your side. his facial hair tickled your bare arms. he'd tell you that it was a miracle before he kissed your swollen mound.

"you are a better mother than you ever were a private." he cooed at you as he invaded your space once more, "good mothers make strong babies and i'm aimin' for the 99th percentile" <3

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one. Soap's heard that saying once or twice.

and here you are. claiming to be his... issuance.

you tilt your head. "you don't remember signing up for the program?"

no. no, he doesn't. his eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. he'd remember that. more to the point, he'd remember whatever he did to deserve this. he looks you up and down again, disbelief and desire flashing across his face, and not in equal measure.

you’re like if someone wrung the starry slurry of thoughts constituting what makes a perfect woman directly from his brain matter, let it ferment and clarify like honey wine, put marriage papers in her hand, and dressed her in a… in a fucking… are those stockings stretching up under your skirt?

hell’s bells. you’re one part girl next door, one part muse—the one his hand can never quite shape on the page to match what’s in his head—and several shades of his favorite porn star. an old-fashioned pin-up doll in the flesh.

"you're not John MacTavish, then," you say, peering down at the papers in your hand with a small frown. "so sorry to bother you—"

“no, hold on.” he takes a step closer. “i’m him, aye. but the program...” the application questionnaire. filling it out was nothing more than a drunken bet with Gaz, but yes, he dimly remembers it. doesn't recall turning it in, but maybe he was drunker than he thought. “it's real?"

“completely real. i was selected for you based on the preferences you specified,” you tell him. you shift the clipboard into your other arm, pleasant smile turning into a frown. "but i couldn't possibly ask you to sign a marriage certificate sponsored by a program you don't even remember applying for."

oh, that is rich. you don’t seem to see the humor here. it’s absurd. have you not seen yourself? he'd be daft to pass on someone as bonnie as you.

not to mention you seem more than a little disappointed at the idea of being turned down. that fuels his ego even more.

 "you're sayin' you're a part of that military partnership program, aye? and you were handpicked as my spouse based on a few questions?"

you helpfully produce a copy of his responses in pink triplicate. sure enough, he recognizes his own drunken scrawl.

none of the questions have anything to do his preferences looks-wise. career aspirations, communication preferences, hobbies, his ideal saturday night. his sleeping habits. this is a psychological profile. CIA shite, as Gaz would say.

he doubts his drunken self read more than a few lines of this paperwork while he was constructing his dream girl in the survey blanks.

as he studies the page a little too closely, your small frown turns into a frustrated scowl. "john? um, i mean."

it instantly pulls his eyes back to your lips.

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. "it’s nice to meet you,” you say in a tone that makes it clear what you’re really saying is ‘hey, stud, i'm looking forward to the honeymoon.’

that’s your attempt, at least. but Soap sees more than you mean to show. the way you play that card--the way you twirl your damn hair--is the clumsiest, most blatant attempt to flirt. somehow, that's what catches him off-guard the most. It makes his heart squeeze. god, are you nervous? you?

he runs over the back of his teeth in the split second before his signature lazy smirk slides back across his face. "happy you got paired up with a bloke like me?"

he hands the paperwork back to you. you take it back with great relief and nestle it securely into the crook of your elbow. you’re certain he didn’t sign every single blank he was supposed to, but he won’t remember that. you’ll check the signature lines later and forge his handwriting to finish it.

you smile prettily at him. then you make it a little more coy. you should be bashful--he's handsome. "i'm lucky. you're special forces. i’m a nobody, really. if you want, you could try filing for a spouse upgrade. if you want a really good fiancée..."

“fiancée." Soap rolls the word around his tongue. "is that what i should call you?”

"well. you saw my name on the paperwork," you point out. you know very well he didn't.

before he can ask any more questions, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull away, walking down the hall with documents in tow. his gaze is heavy on your back.

the documents in your arm are real enough. Soap really did complete that questionnaire, just like how he remembers. getting the application turned in is what required a little creative effort.

but as long as nobody looks too closely at the military ID photocopied in the application file, they won't notice that the mostly-obscured face of the soldier who turned the application in doesn't look much like Soap at all.

...

more Soap / masterlist

[abbu0414]

very anxious reader and her bad habits...

simon was very observant. so obviously when you got anxious and picked your cuticles till they bled, all he would do is hold your hands together, hold them tightly in his, and give lots of kisses.

watching a movie together and can't stop picking? you've lost your hand privileges. they're his now.

doing work? tough. he's got your hands and wrapping them in bandaids so you stop biting and picking and scolding you for hurting yourself like that.

he furrows his eyebrows as he's bandaging your hands.

"if you keep this up lovie, im gonna have to hold your hands all the time and id rather do that when you're not hurting yourself."

(i need a boyfriend)

[creampill]

If he isn’t like an overeager puppy, you ain’t writing your König right.

Massive, entirely unaware of it. Stumbling over himself when he sees you, bumping into your side whenever you walk together, always hunching and ducking. Uneasy on his feet but with the sweetest lopsided smile. When he wants to run, he can, breaking into a full sprint that becomes terrifying- but around you, he softens. Just wanting to be close so badly that he can’t help but get clumsy.

Perking up whenever he sees you, too. That same big dumb grin, eyebrows shooting up like piqued dog ears, wobbly posture as if shook by his wagging tail. Eyes that say “hi, hello, what are we doing? I’m happy to see you! Hello!” Even when his words fail him and he just warbles out an accented rendition of your name. And if the boundaries are down and he can touch, rest assured he will be coming in for a cuddle or a headpat or just a warm hand on your arm.

He gets a bit pouty and needy, too. Of course, he’s a grown man. He understands that you need friends to have a healthy life, and he would hate to get in the way of that. But sometimes, seeing you go out with your buddies, he… gets an ache. He wants to be there. You need space, he knows that, but… he just hates to miss your smiles.

And god forbid you’re ever in trouble. Because he goes from puppy to guard dog very fast. All that excited, enamoured energy distills down to a cool rage inherent in his very bones. Big paws and teeth used to gently bat and play become a silent threat, arms over his chest, imposing like a shadow.

But when the threat passes, and he looks at you with those big eyes, proud and confident that he did his job? Please give him plenty of kisses and praise. He’ll melt all the way back to a puppy again.

💖 my inbox is open! send requests!

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[simonrileyyyy]

Simon Riley who fucks your brains out when he sees a man come up to you at a club, constantly reminding you who your pussy belongs to.

Simon Riley who has eyes for you and you only. Every other woman, no matter how beautiful or ugly they are never make his heart beat out of his chest like you do.

Simon Riley who spoils you rotten, getting you anything you even 𝙗𝙖𝙩 an eye at.

Simon Riley who always loves keeping you on his lap whenever he’s drinking his morning cup of tea or doing his boring ass work on his computer.

Simon Riley who can’t even be away from your touch for a second. It’s become a habit, to the extent where he always unconsciously grabs your hand, caresses your thigh while driving, or playing with a strand of your hair.

[emperor-palpaminty]

*taps mic* John Price but with kiss… *rolls dice* ten

UGH A DESPERATE KISS??? JSJISJKSJKS. i'm going with a lawyer reader again saying hi to john our pal our boy coming back from war hehe. not smutty just corny and cheesy

Kisses found here!

Every little noise had you on edge. The scratching of the tree on your window sounded like a key in the lock. The neighbor's kids racing down the hall were reminicent of excited foot steps, coming to seek you out. The candle you had burning smelled like his cigars, with traces of vanilla found in its scent. It was comforting. Warm. And so very John.

Of course, you knew he would be home soon. He had confirmed with you before he left about when the mission would be done- no information if its wherabouts or the target or the nature of the mission, but Captain John price had, no doubt, run off to be your hero once more. But as much as you loved that hero, the good-natured man being the natural badass he was, you were always happy when he came through the door. You were always happier to have your John back.

And he seemed always happy to come back to you.

Your shoes were abandoned by the door. You had spent too long standing in court, debating and presenting, and you were set to stand for just a little longer to finish dinner. A groan left your mouth as you turned your head. Tension pulled between your neck and jaw, easing it's way out and the muscle slowly becoming sore from overuse. You wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, but your empty stomach was far more convincing.

You stirred the veggies in the pan, reaching back and turning up the heat. Your pasta and the sauce was done, now you were waiting on the vegetables. You made yourself eat them, really; your John was so good at cooking and it made you want to expand your cooking beyond your regular few meals.

Your heart bruised in your chest. Your John- it felt dramatic, always, to be standing at your door with bated breath and wrapped in your most comfortable robe, hoping that perhaps he would slip in during the night.

You could convince yourself that you heard his step. The scratching of his key at the door. You stared at it, longingly, watching it.

The knob turned.

You stared at it, heart jumping into your throat as the door cracked open and loving eyes looked in, the unmistakable grin coming to his mouth.

"Hello, love."

Your hunger abandoned you, leaving only shock and joy and want behind in your chest. You forced your legs to move and you rushed to him, and Captain Price met you halfway and dropped his bags at the door. He scooped you up, his face buried against your neck, facial hair tickling your skin. "Missed ya."

His palms flattened against your back and you nodded, all words becoming senseless tears and sobs against him. John turned his head, humming as his mouth kissed your face, lowering you. He was steadier than even the ground, one hand moving up to wipe away your tears as he kissed you, tenderly but somehow needing.

"'s alright, love. I'm here now." He said, between kisses, making up for lost time. "I'm home."

[merowkittie]

snuggled up between simon and johnny watching tv, though it feels like it’s watching you now as you look at simon. your eyes are all over him as you trace the small scars on his face and trail your nails down his jaw to his neck, swiping at the small nicks of what could be marks from the tip of a blade. then you press a soft kiss to his adam’s apple and turn to johnny, who’s already looking at you with a big grin. his arms are immediately going around your body, his face diving for the place where your shoulder and your neck meet and he inhales deeply the scent of you. he lets out a sigh of what sounds like bliss and relief. you hear simon grumble something behind you maybe him telling johnny to stop hogging you, and you laugh. you laugh because nights like this are so rare with your boys. so you’ll cherish it tonight before they have to leave in the morning. your simon and your johnny.

[ghostedbunnie]

older bf!simon who is trying to keep you alive during your exam season in uni. he has to wrestle the caffeinated drink out of your hands as it makes your anxiety so much worse.

older bf!simon who has to force you to take breaks and he is not nice about it either. he'll throw you over his shoulder if he has to, doesn't matter if you hid in the library on campus, he will embody the caveman he is on the inside.

older bf!simon who helps you revise. honestly it feels more like a military drill than revision at some points, you fear he'll tell you to drop down and give him twenty when you mess up a definition, he never does but he definitely thought about it once or twice.

older bf!simon who doesn't go overboard with the praise when you succeed just a plain ol' "that's my girl." and a smooch on the side of the head is all you need to feel like you've won at life. and if it doesn't work out, he'll let you cry it out if you need to, doesn't grumble about the snot on his hoodie and then simply helps you out so you ace the next try because he hates to see you cry.

older bf!simon who was holding back on his urges the entire exam season so you can focus but once you're done with the last one he is going to town on you. i'm talking order some food for the weekend, lock the door and hold on because he is going to ravage you on any and every surface inside your home.

[uglygirltrying]

bunny!reader and hare!simon!!!

hare!simon who finds himself a cute, little bunny, and takes them for himself. bunny!reader with soft, fluffy ears, and small cotton ball tail, that twitches and flutters in excitement. bunny!reader is round and soft, the sweetest thing that her mate has ever seen. all that fluff, pressed against hare!simon's abdomen when he pounds into her, and mutters into her ear about kits... hare!simon with a dirty fur and a dirty mind, scars and thinning fur, but a passion for keeping his mates pure white fur clean hare!simon who leads his bunny to calm river, taking a dip into it with her in his lap hare!simon who sniffs his bunny's neck for that sweet aroma, nipping the skin there, while his cock slips inside her. the water around them splashes while the dirty and scarred hare dumbs his load into his bunny's cunt. bunny!reader who whines at a sudden, strange, new smell that wafts through the air. hare!simon whose ears tense up at the same time, but not at her whine, but at the sounds from the forest around them. hare!simon who immediately stands up, ushering bunny!reader out of the water and behind him. hare!simon whose chest puffs out, when fox!graves stalks towards them, out of the bushes, a mischievous smirk on the carnivores face. hare!simon who's always ready to fight, kill, and die for his mate.

[v1x3n]