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#call of duty x you
tacticalprincess · 2 days
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augh just thinking about virgin!konig.. he just cant keep his hands to himself !!! whenever you get out of the shower he always wants to dry you off.. of course he only really wants to feel you..
- 🐶
whoever said its harder to go without pussy only after having it was a liar. könig’s dick hasn’t been soft since he met you, and he’ll find any excuse to feel your soft body against his. his desperation for you really should be more embarrassing, but any sane man in his position would feel the same, being in such close proximity to someone as gorgeous as you.
he’s came into his calloused fist countless times, recalling how warm and pliant you are under his fingertips. he just knows you’re warmer and softer inside, and he’d do anything for a chance to feel it!! he finds himself replaying memories of him groping your damp body through your towel, to your boobs pressed against his firm chest in an innocent hug, down to just your fingertips grazing sweetly along his rough hand, while he gets himself off. he always comes so quickly with you on his mind, frustrated that you’re not the one he’s beating his dick sore into.
he asks to give you a massage one day, and just the feeling of the muscles and doughy skin of your back is enough to push him over the edge. that, paired with your quiet moans of content and sporadic praise — he’s achingly hard and breathless, oozing pearly droplets of precum into his pants. he convinces himself you have to be teasing him, because otherwise he’ll feel guilty about having such intense lust for you. just take pity on him and let him hump into your pudgy thighs, he’ll be quick, he promises!!
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lxvvie · 2 days
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I‘m a huge fan of the there’s only one bed trope but let me change it up a bit. The 141 are on deployment and the reader loses her sleeping bag and tent in a firefight. So now she has to share with Simon. Somehow Simon’s fingers end up between her legs👀
Ghost, in all his gritty fuck-nastiness, saw you losing your things as the perfect opportunity to claim what's his.
You don't even get to ask before he tells you you're with him.
Good thing, too, 'cause it's a little chilly at night, so when you finally settle down for the night, you're... mighty close to Ghost. Close enough to feel his heat, yeah, but you ain't touching.
Not yet. Until you finally do and he says, "Fuck it."
And now he has his fingers knuckle deep inside you.
"Gotta keep 'em warm," Ghost says gruffly as he pumps 'em in and out. FuckfuckfuckyouwannamoanohfuckGhost—
"Keep it in. Can't attract attention." Not a suggestion, an order, and you're left whimpering and trying your damndest not to get too loud as he finger bangs the fuck out of you.
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stoutpancakes · 2 days
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Okay but chubby chaser! Johnny...
Chubby chaser! Johnny who spots you from across the bar and knows you're the one.
Chubby chaser! Johnny who drinks in your curves, from your full breasts down to your pudgy tummy and wide hips.
Chubby chaser! Johnny whose pants get a little too tight just from the way your lips are moving as you talk to your friend.
Chubby chaser! Johnny who imagines you bent over with the jiggle of your ass as he thrusts into you.
Chubby chaser! Johnny who is dying to suckle at your breasts, knowing very well he can treat you just right.
Chubby chaser! Johnny who just has to muster up the courage to go and talk to a beauty such as yourself.
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cumikering · 1 day
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Alex Keller x plus-sized reader
.8k | fluff, body insecurities Even if you don’t love yourself, Alex will until you do
The door of your shared apartment slammed shut followed by a couple of thuds.
“Baby?” Alex called from the couch, looking over his shoulder.
When you rounded the corner with a frown, he rushed and wrapped an arm around you, noticing the wobble of your lower lip.
“Oh, sweetie, what is it? Did something happen?”
You’d jumped out of bed with a grin that morning at the thought of the shopping trip ahead. One of your girls had their birthday coming up and you were getting matching dresses.
“No… It’s just…” You sighed, fighting the brimming tears. “I couldn’t find anything.” The first tear fell anyway, which you wiped away immediately.
He led you to the couch.
“Each time they found something cute, I had to be the bearer of bad news and tell them they didn’t have it in my size, or that it looked horrible on me. We went through the whole mall, and I had to look at all these cute dresses that I’d never get to wear because nothing would fit right. I feel so left out.” You sniffled. “I… I was feeling good. Got to have a nice brunch and boba after, but now I just feel guilty about ruining the day! We spent the whole day out and we didn’t even get anything.”
“You didn’t ruin the day, sweetheart.” He gripped your hands. “You just haven’t found the perfect dress yet. It takes time, doesn’t it?”
“I couldn’t even find anything remotely flattering. How am I going to find the perfect one? I don’t… even want to go anymore.”
You still wouldn’t meet his eyes when he wiped your tears away. “How about this, you get a dress you like, and we’ll get it tailored? Then you’ll get to showcase all those gorgeous curves I love so much.”
“But… It’s not supposed to be tailored. It’s supposed to look good right away.”
“Clothes off the rack don’t usually fit everyone perfectly. My dress uniforms were tailored too.” He tilted your face towards him. “We’re living, breathing things. We don’t all look alike and that’s normal.”
After a long silence, you muttered, “Why are you with me, Alex?”
“Because there’s no one I want more than I want you, no one with a sweeter smile or a lovelier voice.” He kissed your knuckles. “Some days I wake up and I wonder what you are doing with me. You should be with someone who doesn’t have to leave you all alone for weeks, make you worry sick if he’s coming home. Someone who doesn’t have so many ugly scars.”
“Alex…”
“It’s the same reason you’re with me, isn’t it? It’s never about what I see, always about how you make me feel.” He kissed your forehead. “I don’t see these flaws you talk about, because to me they’re not. I wish you could see yourself how I see you, just 5 minutes,” he said, caressing your cheek.
“Your smile is what keeps me going in the field when things go sideways. This pretty face is my absolute favourite thing to come home to.” His hands slid down your arms. “Because there’s nowhere safer than your arms when you hold me tight, or when you stroke my hair with your gentle hands.”
He squeezed your waist. “This is a wonderful reminder that I keep you happy. What else am I supposed to grab when we spoon?” His gaze trailed further down. “I love when you jump into my arms, especially when those thighs wrap around me, or when you get on your tippy toes on to kiss me.” He gave you a once over before bringing your hand to his lips again. “Fuck, there’s nothing I don’t love about you. I can’t ask for anything more.”
Your lips wobbled again, but for a different reason now.
He pulled you to his chest, his strong arms around you as he kissed the side of your face repeatedly. “I know it’s hard sometimes. But I’m going nowhere, and I’ll love you even more the days you can’t.”
He brushed the new tears off your face with his thumb and peppered more kisses on your cheek as he held you.
“We have the whole day to shop tomorrow. We can go anywhere you want, maybe the matcha cafe you like too after?"
“You don’t mind?”
He shook his head, giving you one of his gorgeous smiles. “The best things take time, like finding you. But had I known it’s you, I’d have waited longer.”
Happy birthday to my C aka my April sis aka the one Alex Keller would literally be on his knees for aka the story itself @shadofireshinobi. Here’s to many more times I’m gonna slide into your DMs and rizz the hell out of you <3
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Grocery Shopping with König [539 word drabble]
No warnings, food talk, König is a goof.
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Grocery shopping with König is a nightmare.
The old adage of “Don’t shop hungry” is impossible, the man is never not hungry.
He’s also a frugal bastard.
Your freezer is always filled with marked-down food that had to be frozen lest they spoil. You swear there’s been a whole rotisserie chicken just stuffed at the back of the freezer for over a year.
“But Biene, it’ll just go to waste.”
“But it’s such a good deal! Fifty pence off!”
“Why not, we could make something interesting with… pickled onions and mini frankfurters! I can make you Fleishsalat!”
And so on.
Today, you’re sneaking off to the store on your own. You’re on the last dregs of your paycheck for the month and you need to just get the essentials. No more, no less.
“Where are you off, Beine?” You hear him call from the bedroom, it’s early, and you had hoped he would sleep in. He usually does after a long deployment like the one he’s just been on.
“Just popping to the shops, go back to bed,” you insist, already shouldering on your coat, desperately wishing you’d just lied and claimed you were going for a jog.
“Ah bitte, let me come with,” you hear him bumbling around in your bedroom and groan. You know you can’t literally run away from him… Or can you?
You seriously consider it for a moment, but give up on the idea as your giant boyfriend trots like an excited puppy up to you. He’s dishevelled and wearing odd socks, but you can’t help but smirk at how handsome he looks.
“Ok, but if you’re coming with me,” you start, squaring up to him with a best a no-nonsense look you can muster on your face, “We have to stick to the list, no deviations, no bargains, just the…” you quickly count the number of items on the list, “twenty-four things I have written down, are we clear?”
“Javol, of course Biene, in and out, no distractions,” he holds his hand over his heart as if undertaking a solemn vow and you roll your eyes.
“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” You mutter, almost to yourself as you usher him out of the door.
“You offend me, liebling, I’m a man of my word.”
Two hours later you’re back home with double the amount of items your list. Handfuls of food stuffs to be frozen immediately, some junk from the World Foods aisle, and a bouquet of roses that Kö grabbed when you weren’t looking.
At least he paid for everything, which meant you weren’t feeling the financial strain quite so hard this month.
“I’m sorry Biene,” he whispers against your temple as he wraps his arms around you from behind as you try and play freezer-Tetris to fit the new wave of bargains in the cramped space, “I’ll buy you a bigger freezer.”
You almost snap at him that isn’t the problem, not by a long shot, but at the end of the day, Kö’s little quirks like this are just part of who he is.
And in the grand scheme of things, it’s such a small thing to worry about.
Because you love the big oaf.
No matter what.
CoD Masterlist Grocery Shopping with Gaz Grocery Shopping with Ghost Grocery Shopping with Soap  Grocery Shopping with Price
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romanticintheory · 21 hours
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Rara's Masterlist
(All readers are gender-neutral unless stated otherwise!)
☆ - hurt/comfort ♡ - fluff ☾ - angst
Call of Duty
John Price: -he tries asking you out but it turns out to be a struggle ♡
Simon Riley: -coming home to him after being mistaken for kia ☆
Kyle Garrick: -he's drunk and confessing his love to you, but you're not taking any of his shit ☆
Johnny McTavish: -nothing yet!
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sweetiecutie · 4 months
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Husband! König is very happy that your parents decide to finally come over to your house for a week to spend Christmas and New Year with you two. König does genuinely enjoy their company - they’re his family now after all, not only by law but by feelings that connect you all.
But there’s a little but. Husband! König just can’t help but feel frustrated at the lack of intimacy between you two these past days. Not only have you been occupied with holiday preparations, shortening the usual amount of attention you gave him, but constant presence of both your parents around the house meant nearly to no sex. From fucking you whenever and wherever he pleased, König now had to settle for a quick hand- or blowjob from you in a bathroom before going back to your parents, all broad smiles and innocence in your eyes.
Husband! König who clenches his chiseled jaw, throwing his head back so it hits the wall behind with a soft ‘thud’ as he tries his absolute hardest to bite back all the moans and groans threatening to slip off his tongue. You coo sweet apologies to him as your hand fists his leaking cock before the warmth of your mouth wraps around thick shaft, sinking down on it until your nose is buried into small bush of dark blonde hair on König’s pubic.
König can barely stay upright, the lack of any sexual interaction between you two in these past days making him even more sensitive. A string of hissed curses falling from bitten lips as your throat moulded to the shape of his dick, clenching down on him as you bob your head up and down, fucking the cum out of your husband with your mouth.
Husband! König who doesn’t last for long, soon flooding your throat with his thick pearly cum, making you gag and cough around his softening dick. You slip your mouth off his dick, tucking it back into his boxers and pressing a small kiss right under his bellybutton, practically making König melt in your arms. “I’m sorry baby, I promise that I’ll make up to you once they leave” you whisper, pressing another quick kiss to his tummy before standing up and exiting the bathroom, leaving your hubby all hot and bothered still>:[
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bratfiction · 18 days
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-> repost from my old blog cause i’ve been DILF crazy lately.
DILF!SIMON ???
truly an old, grumpy bastard. kidding. he’s a dilf without even being a dilf— which is so fucking frustrating because it forces you to imagine actually having his kids and watching him walk around with a chunky baby to bounce on his big, ink covered arm. he always tells you that all you have to do is say the word, and he’d be happy to oblige. to give you a happy baby and make up the warm, bubbly home he never had growing up. he’d put a pretty ring on your finger, too. everything and anything despite your age gap.
and god… is he making sure you fall right into his trap. he’s even at it early in the morning, lounging in the living room with nothing but his briefs on, thick thighs spread and just waiting for you to sit your soft warmth right on top of them. above the elastic waistband digging into his carved hips are those solid abs that reside under the bit of pudge he does have. your eyes trail all the way up, to his beefed up pecs and bulky scarred biceps, while he reads the morning paper and has a mug of tea without a care in the world.
“simon,” you don’t mean to say his name, honestly. it slips out with ease as it tends to, because you cant seem to wrap your head around how this metaphorical and literal mountain of a man is yours. it escapes you on instinct as your feet carry you to him, shuffling in your slippers until your knees bump into his own.
you’re falling into his lap with a kind of desperation that is so familiar to him. he knows— he always does. so a calloused hand squeezes your thigh while you press yourself into him and already begin placing kisses along the underside of his stubbly jaw. his adam’s apple bobs as he speaks.
“ready t’ take me up on that offer?”
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Y/N: Come on, I want to show you something Y/N: *turns and walks away* Ghost: Nice Y/N: That's not it but thank you
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tacticalprincess · 1 day
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nothing makes himbo!könig feel more like he could conquer the world alone than when you put your hand on his bicep instead of hand-holding while you’re walking. it gives him full body shivers, bending his elbow and letting your arm link around his delicately. the protectiveness brewing inside of him at the gesture always makes him puff his chest out, feeling ready to handle anything coming his way, even if that is just a particularly aggressive salesperson on the street. don’t get me started on if you also lean your body into him and rest your head on his arm. you’re just so cute and clearly in need of your big, beefy boyfriend to protect and lead you. könig can definitely do that. he’s like your own human sized guard dog.
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lxvvie · 12 hours
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Sometimes, Simon tells you he loves you without saying it at all.
He shows it in his vigilance, reminding you in his straightforward, gruff way to take care of yourself, especially when he’s gone.
You see it in his eyes, eyes that never leave yours, dark and somber and passionate just the same, clear eyes that tell a thousand stories, each scarier and more magnificent than the last, but still they remain fixated on you.
You hear it in his voice, distant and tired yet powerful, when he calls you during a prolonged deployment, yearning to hear your voice, and asks you what the sky looks like.
You tell him, he tells you, and you two fall in love again in the ambient silence, looking at a different sky.
The same sky.
And it’s like he never left you at all.
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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The Cute Ways Simon Riley Uses His Height to His Advantage
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Tags: fluff, height difference, kissing, teasing, keeping quiet, Simon being a romantic, good boyfriend Simon
A/N: Random and cute headcanon I wrote in a few minutes.
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Simon would absolutely be the tall boyfriend who would reach for things from the top shelf for you. But also the one who would put them there so you'd ask for his assistance. This would be done discreetly of course, he thinks you're non the wiser but over time you'd put two and two together. You sure as hell aren't the one putting your mug up there. It looks nice next to his so you don't complain.
Also you get to feel his huge body pressed up against yours so there's that benefit. Another is that when you're brushing your teeth together he tends to stand behind you, leaning back a little, one arm holding you close and the other holding his toothbrush. You told him he could just wait until you're done but Simon likes this a lot more.
When you go out together it's impossible to lose sight of Simon, he stands out with his height no matter where you go. Which comes in real handy if you go and see a show, he can lift you on his shoulders easily. He can also spot free seats really easily, ensuring you never have to stand around for long. You might get some looks because he is so big, especially if you're on the shorter side not of average height.
If you're at the library he will always so the cheesy thing of handing you a book and then bending down to kiss you. He's seen it in so many movies and he always wanted to try it. The only thing he had to be mindful of was not making too much noise when your kisses got a bit heated. The last thing you both needed was to get chased out of there for making out like a couple of lovestruck teens in a romance movie. Would be worth it as far as Simon is concerned but he doesn't want to get you in trouble.
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cumikering · 9 hours
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 7
2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)
“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.
Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.
He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.
“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.
“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”
It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.
“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.
That, too, was true.
Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.
It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.
It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.
It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…
He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.
Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.
He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.
And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.
Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.
Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.
“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.
“Saturday, sir?”
“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”
“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”
Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.
“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”
When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.
“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.
Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.
He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”
The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.
People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.
When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.
The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.
As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.
Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.
You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.
He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.
I don’t care how hard it gets…
He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.
With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.
So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.
It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.
Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.
He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.
“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”
Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”
Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.
He didn’t make to the top 3.
Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.
Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.
He left for his office.
“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”
He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.
“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”
Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.
“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”
He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.
“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.
Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.
It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.
Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.
“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”
Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.
Desperation was a lethal sentiment.
And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.
“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.
A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.
“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.
“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”
The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.
“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.
Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes from it, chuckling to himself.
“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”
“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.
His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”
“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”
He laughed as another tear slipped.
Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.
He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.
Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.
His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?
With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.
He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.
It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.
“Hi, is Simon in?”
His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.
“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”
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König smutty Drabble:
18+ MDNI, as if my whole blog. NSFW CONTENT AHEAD. Somno, Somnophilia, sleepy sex, masturbation mention
He’s too tired and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.
It was a long mission, longer than any other so far. You’re not mad. You’re glad he’s able to sleep, that’s healthy, it’s good.
But you’re just so damned horny.
You slip in your headphones and bring up your favourite audio erotica VA and slide over to the far side of your super king bed.
You get off a few times to the filth pouring in your ears. Trembling so hard you worry you’ll wake him.
But you finish up after over an hour of audio and multiple orgasms. You clean up in the bathroom and slip back into bed.
Kö stirs as you settle, pulling your back flush against his chest as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.
You’re drifting off as a large, warm hand palms your breast and the rather obvious press of Kö’s erection against your ass. You groan and arch into his touch, grinding back against his cock.
In minutes you’ve fumbled around, moving your hips to accommodate him.
You’re gushing on his cock as he pounds up into you from behind as you work your clit. It’s ecstasy as you clench around his thick length.
He comes hard inside you with a low whine and you see stars as you plummet into the depths of yet another orgasm.
You’re left panting and whining as you feel his spend leaking from your cunt as he slowly softens within you.
“Need to get up Biene, or I’m going to fall asleep.”
You peel yourself away, peeing and cleaning up before settling back down into bed with your love.
“So,” he grumbles sleepily, “How did that start?”
“What?” You ask, incredulous.
“Well, I woke up with my tip pressing into you,” he says with a blush prickling over his cheeks.
You balk as you realise he was asleep for most of the build up, a dash of shame dampening your mood.
“Fuck, I thought you were awake the whole time,” you admit as you chew on your bottom lip, “sorry Kö.”
“Sorry? No don’t be sorry that was so good,” he hums as his eyes flutter shut, “Was very sexy to wake up to.”
You shake your head, snuggling in closer as you try not to overthink it all.
Maybe you need to discuss somnophilia more firmly with him now. Because that was really fucking hot.
(shout out to this happening almost word for word the other night to me listening to Badjhur audio 🫠)
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blckbrrybasket · 3 months
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TF141
With peeling oranges
Price who doesn’t bat an eye when you ask him to peel your orange. He sets down his book and peels it effortlessly. To him it isn’t a big deal, he’s just happy you wanted his help. Price places a kiss on your head and goes back to reading, smiling behind his mutton chops when he hears your pleased hums.
Soap who has seen the trend of asking your partner to peel your orange and is over the moon excited. He tries to contain his excitement and act like he doesn’t know, but the small cuts speak for itself. Soap was too fast to get it done, but he still did it and thats all that matters. When he hands it back to you he’s grinning so widely you don’t even notice the half squished orange.
Gaz who perks up and quickly nods, taking the ‘order’ and running with it. You momentarily forget about the orange after a few minutes but walk into the kitchen to see Gaz pulling the last string of pith from your orange. He definitely spent the most time on it and made it as perfect as he could. You only deserve perfection. When Gaz gives it back his heart swells when he sees your proud look.
Ghost who outstretches his hand for you to pass the orange to him before you even ask. He doesn’t know about the trend, no, but he likes doing things for you given how much you’ve done for him. Ghost silently peels it and passes it back to you, but not before sneaking a slice for himself. He can’t help but chuckle when you scold him about taking the slice.
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sweetiecutie · 5 months
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More ex bf!König headcanons bc I love my men pathetic
Ex boyfriend! König who is definitely over you. That’s what he tells himself and his friends, sipping on his beer and pressing his new girl closer to his side. No one says anything but they all share a knowing look - all of his new girls resemble you somehow: their general appearance or some exact features like shape of her lips or eyes, their behaviour or how they handle themselves. But needless to say that none of those ‘relationships’ lasted longer than a few months.
Ex boyfriend! König whom you meet at one of your shared friend’s party, his sharp eyes detecting you the moment you step into the room, his throat growing dry as he watched your every move intently. You seemed relaxed - too normal, not mourning the loss of your relationship as much as he did, seemed like you didn’t spend sleepless nights thinking about him.
Ex boyfriend! König who after a few drinks has you cornered in small bathroom, on his knees with his face pressed against your thigh, begging for you to take him back. “Please, I need you so much, my life doesn’t have any sense without you. I’ll be better, please baby, I love you so much”. Your heart clenched at the sight before you - always arrogant and complacent he’s now kneeling at your feet, fat tears running down his reddened cheeks as he scatters small kisses all over your knees.
Not so ex boyfriend! König who is too eager to take you to his place once you mumble out small “Okay, fine. But this one is the last chance you get” to prove to you just how good of a boyfriend he may be for you.
Boyfriend! König who eats you out like man starved, your slick smeared all over his chin and cheeks, tongue buried deep inside of your cunny as his ears strain to not miss a single little sound you make, familiar taste of you clouding up his mind and turning König into a perfect whore for you. He spends the rest of the night fucking you oh so good, rubbing and licking all your soft spots - ones he knows by heart, until you cry and beg for him to give you a little breather. But he just can’t - not when you’re finally back, laying all spread out on his bed, hands tangled in his bedsheets, your trembling legs wrapped around his waist.
Those months spent without you were the worst in his entire life and now that König has you back he’s not letting go of you never again.
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