I haven’t posted here in a WHILE so here you go!! Ghoap trash again because I love them <3
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Clumsy Nurse!Reader X Loser!Konig?
The moment you missed the vein and hit the needle straight into his bone, Konig knew - he has to have you.
Maybe the pain from having such expensive medicine be spilled in his insides so mindlessly was making him dizzy and distorted his thoughts and feelings. Maybe he was so sure your clumsiness is going to finally finish the job of his enemies and kill him that he wanted to fall in love one last time, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Konig, the rising socio-phobic(and-pathic) star of KorTac, is helplessly in love with you. Yes, this is a threat.
How can he not love you?
You're as pretty as the morning stars and just as clumsy as a wild cat that once slammed into his tent at a makeshift camp, leaving him with thrashed-out things and an empty stomach. You, however, leave him with an eagerly beating heart and desire to come to you, gently take your hands in his, and take your medical license away. Someone as pretty and as cute as you shouldn't have to work...and especially shouldn't work with highly important patients.
Konig so helplessly in love, however, that he is holding your stolen panties in one hand, jerking himself off and imagining it's your soft folds wrapped around his leaking cock. His other hands goes to write the reports saying that your performance is amazing, one of the best nursing experiences he ever had, and that every soldier who had met you, immediately asked for you to be their personal nurse from now on. He lies, of course, but, unfortunately for his men, the colonel is willing to sacrifice medical performance if it means his loser brain could stare at your ass in that tight uniform the whole day.
Well, at least you're cute enough to be moral support, and every time you would drop something important and sterile on the ground, injured people could stare at your hips as you bend over to pick this up. Even medics can't really be mad at you - it's like being mad at a kitten. You just don't know better. You just cute and clumsy and no one knows how the hell you went pass the selections. They do know, however, that you're colonel's favorite little plaything and that he specifically organizes your shifts so you'd have to shower alone at night.
Alone, at night, with him watching over your wet body.
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Captain Price walks into your room, knocking on your door before peaking his head in with puppy eyes. You already know what kind of favour he is going to ask.
"Can you help me convince Laswell to sign the offer I sent her?"
You nod, smile on you face. Anything for the captain.
Now, he doesn't really know how you manage to make the stoic woman agree to everything you ask for, but that's not what's important. Results are, and you always get great ones.
And he might not really know what you do; but when an hour and half later you enter his office licking your fingers clean, messy hair, plush lips, your chin wet, shirt half way undone, love bites on your neck and a satisfied smile on your face, Price gets an idea of how discussion went down.
"I did all I could, Captain. She'll sign it tomorrow." Is all you say before you leave the room.
Next time he might disagree with Laswell, see if she sends you to him as well.
Back to Masterlist
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Taste Test ✨❤️
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‘magin sweet virgin simon finally hittin it.
your legs sit hiked up on the thick muscles sittin’ atop his hipbones, his fingers digging deep into the sheets, practically twisting em off the mattress as he breathes out lowly.
his hips press forward further, his cock burning n stomach rolling into taut knots that have his nails digging holes into your pretty pink sheets.
you drag your hands up his chest slowly watching as the muscles pull tight n his hips stutter. his eyes flicker up to yours, skin breakin out in a mess of tender of goosebumps. “breathe, baby. you’re goin’ red on me, si.”
he laughs lowly, throat thick as he bottoms out. his thighs press against the back of yours, neck rolling as he tries his absolute best to contain the way his orgasm shivers down his spine.
“oh my… fuck,” he groans, teeth takin ahold of his tongue to silence the multitude of noises rising up his throat. his eyes flutter to a shut slowly as he tries to get the image of your sweet body outta his mind, or the fact that your cunt is suckin’ n holdin’ him there so tightly.
his head drops into the crook of your neck as he slowly pulls back, teeth nippin at your soft skin as your head arches back. his teeth bare in a soft hiss, jaw ticking against your chin. you drag your nails down his back gently, a pretty moan spilling free off your lips at the soft drag of his thick cock against your warm, silky walls.
n that’s what does it for him, the sound of that melodic whine. it plays n plays in his mind on repeat until he’s suddenly forcing himself back into you, hips a shaky stuttery mess.
n the groan, the drawn out whimper that tumbles off his lips is cruel. his teeth sink down into your skin as his hips ground forward, desperately attempting to fuck his seed into you. his eyes roll and his fingers grasp at the soft hair lining the nape of your neck.
“simon?” you murmur softly feeling his thick, hot release fill you full. “lemme look at you, wanna see that pretty face.”
zamnnnn. dis sounded better in my head 🤦♀️✌️
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Nightwatch
Ghost and Jade conversing atop the Fuerzas Especiales base in Las Almas. Just a sketch before I sleep today! (❁´◡`❁)
Inspired by this Illustration by Edwin George in 'English Woman' 12 July 1958
good night 🛌
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Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the ask here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings:
The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked.
Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too.
Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it.
Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.
You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.
Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.
Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.
And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.
This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all.
Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.
“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”
Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.
How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.
“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”
Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy.
Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often.
The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works.
On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.
Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.
The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside.
A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight.
He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you.
Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.
Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off.
“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.
You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes.
“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.
“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.
He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”
“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.”
There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.
Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.
“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?”
Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”
A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”
As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them.
Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.
Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.
“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”
Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.
“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”
Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good.
He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.
“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”
Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in.
“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You
look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”
“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”
You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”
A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”
Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete.
“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”
You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.
If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.
Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.
He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage.
You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.
The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”
Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible. Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves.
Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat.
“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”
Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole.
Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.
Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him.
You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word.
It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”
The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit?
He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.
It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.
Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.
“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”
“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.
That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.
Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.
And then he revvs the engine…
The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer.
“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.
“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this?
He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.
“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.
An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.
“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.
It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.
“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.
You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.
“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.
Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.
“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”
He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”
With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.
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As always, Simon stumbles into your shared apartment, sighing. He drops his gear by the door, stripping himself down to his boxers.
He walks into the living room, where the tv was on mute and a figure slept on your couch. He smiles, heading over to you, a blanket over your sleeping body. Simon stares at you for a moment before picking you up, making you stir awake.
He smiles, “Hi lovie.”
“Si?”
“‘Hats me.”
“You’re home?”
“Yup.”
“I haven’t made dinner…”
“S’ what? Pizza place down the stree’ is open.”
“But you deserve a home cooked-”
“Lovie? Why are you s’ hot?”
You blink. “What?”
“Like burnin’ hot…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your burnin’, lovie.”
“I’m fine,” you lie, thrashing around in his arms. “I needa make dinner!”
“You’re sick?”
You don’t respond.
“Bed. Now.” That was his stern voice. His lieutenant voice. “‘m orderin’ takeout.”
“But-”
“Lovie,” he warns. “Don’t make me tie you t’ the bed. Now, stay there an’ rest.”
He leaves the room to order dinner. When he gets back, you’re fast asleep.
***
You stir awake hours later, the TV in your bedroom on, Simon sitting next to you. He’s munching on a rice bowl. You groan, “My head hurts.”
“Have ya taken any meds?” You shake your head. He holds out a bite of his food to you. You accept it happily. “Got them rice pla’ers you love so much.”
“Thank you. I can never get old of them.”
“You should.”
“I love you so much, but I haven’t gotten old of you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re gone take some meds after eatin’, ‘kay?”
You nod. “Love you, Si.”
“Love you too, lovie.”
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fresh blood 👶
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G/N!Reader
implied depression, fluff
He's met by the gaping silence in the cold, dark room as he walks into your shared apartment.
He can feel the worry creep up on him more and more at each step that he takes.
Until his eyes land on your shadowy figure, sitting on the floor by the window, illuminated only by the faint moonlight.
He sighs in relief and carefully approaches you in order not to startle you, making his footsteps loud enough for you to hear.
He's always been wary of your fragile state and your episodes in which you crawl back into your shell.
He appears in your line of vision only to be met by the cascade of tears, a distant bleak look painting your face.
You're wearing only one of his shirts as you always do when he’s away to feel closer to him.
You turn your head towards him, glossy eyes slowly lighting up as your mind registers that he’s really here.
You waste no time to jump into his arms, “I’m home, love.” he whispers in your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your head.
And you sob onto his chest, relief washing over you that he’s finally home, safe.
And overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through you, your love for him burning vehemently as you tighten your arms around him.
And he holds you in his strong arms, his love and warmth engulfing you until you’re fully immersed in him.
“You ok?” he asks in a soft tone, “I am now.” you respond with a loving smile as you look up into his gorgeous eyes that glint with the fierce love and adoration he feels for you.
“I love you.” he whispers, slowly leaning in, “I love you too.” you reply only inches away from his lips and kiss him with flaming passion.
And you finally feel at home. He is your home.
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soap, igalaw mo yung baso,, pls,,,
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König giving his card to reader to splurge with, not on designer bags or clothing, but their expensive ass gaming set up. And it has to be those cute ones too, which are somehow more expensive than just wanting to have a plain setup. Reader definitely wears those headphones with cat ears on them.
Konig would definitely have a discord kitten during COVID-19; you can't change my mind.
Imagine this man, being stuck in some half-abandoned mission because covid ruined too many plans and rendered half of the enemy's squad useless while also taking at least a quarter of his soldiers...so, he is stuck at the base somewhere really fucking far away, with nothing to do besides hating on Kortac's higher-ups and liking the fact that him wearing a mask in public finally doesn't look weird. He is still bored out of his mind, however, and he still wants something to do. Anything.
Oh, also, he is still a loser and a weeb in hiding, using highly protected internet at base to watch pirated anime and get into arguments with chronically online teens on Discord. This is how he met you, actually. Not a teen, thank god, but surely chronically online.
You said he had the charm of an autistic creature. You said that him being a war criminal is kinda problematic but, then again, some of your friends were into self-shipping with characters from war games, so he is kinda forgiven. You're saying words that he doesn't understand, but he is willing to spend hours on Urban Dictionary just so he could fish you into sending him nudes.
Konig is stuck at some god-forgotten military base, but he still sends you money - mostly because having your nudes tailored to him and his perverted interests is much more fun than jerking off at some random porn model and also because he likes to think that you depend on him. He makes you send him photos of everything - shiny new computer he bought from the last sniping bonus, those expensive as fuck cat ear headphones that shine adorably in the ring light of your room.
Konig who makes you facetime him for a quick e-sex - although he never turns on his camera, he loves to see you fuck yourself on the sex toy he sends you(something definitely too big for you, but he likes to see how quickly you can overcome challenges). If you want that shiny new PC setup, you have to work for it - and unfortunately for you, he found it really easy to get your exact address because of all the purchases.
Don't be alarmed when he finally shows up after deployment, okay?
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Villager!Reader and Villager!Ghost They're in love but their families are enemies...
Masterlist - Taglist Form
💚A Village Apart💚
The Riley family, and yours, have a history of feuds and quarrels going back years, decades, and if there were writings to back it up, centuries.
It is a small village, where houses are inherited and everyone knows each other. Therefore, all the inhabitants of the small village are aware of the enmity between the families.
And being such a quiet village, the amusement of many arises from taking one side of the families and criticising the other.
It is natural at this point in the story, and each generation that is born the rest of the village waits for the children of each to marry so that they can see how the story continues.
The Riley family earned their name and respect for their construction work in the village. Rare is the house that his family did not build.
Simon began working in his father's shadow almost as soon as he could walk, and as soon as he could carry weight, he became a bishop in his father's small army of builders.
It was not because he was the boss's son that he had it easier, some even say he was the one who had it harder.
It is a hard job, with admirable physical effort, but unfortunately, it left most of the workers without energy to enjoy the little free time they had after a long day's work.
Simon found a reason to keep a little extra energy reserve for when his day was over.
And that reason is you.
Your family is not as well known as his, well, everyone knows each other in the village; but yours is accorded less respect than his.
Unlike his, your family is humble, with enough cattle to feed the family and sell the leftovers when there are any.
It is a humble job, with difficult working hours, considerable physical effort and often little profit or reward.
But there is always food on the table and animals to look after; the people may not appreciate your family's work as much as they should, but the innocent animal eyes you look into every day make it worth it.
Another reason driving you on was Simon.
It was difficult at first, as you both knew it was a forbidden relationship. Your families had told you again and again to stay away from each other's families.
"They are women, Simon. We haven't worked as hard as we have to stoop to that level."
"They think they're better than everyone else for moving stones, sweetheart. You don't deserve that treatment."
"If they see you hanging out with her, the rest of the people in the village will think they have the right to talk to us like we're equals too."
"They're machines, honey. They're not capable of producing emotions those Riley's, you deserve better than someone obsessed with money like that."
But still, despite everything; it was impossible to avoid the sidelong glances as you passed each other walking through town.
When you went to mass, when you went to the village fairs, when friends in common met.
Normally, for a girl like you to meet boys would be frowned upon; but with the village being so small, they were the boys you played with years ago and it was an idiotic feeling to deny such good friendships.
Besides, they were the perfect excuse for you to see him when he joined the meetings; which, curiously enIt had nothing to do with the fact that he would ask before attending if you were going to be there.
Many times in the evening Simon would be exhausted from working all day, but if he was told that you were going to be there, there was no physical exhaustion that would prevent him from seeing you.
Many times he would be on the verge of falling asleep when they were gathered together, waiting for the chance to be able to walk you home.
"A young lady like you shouldn't have to go home alone."
"It's a couple of steps, Simon."
"Not if we follow my route."
"Your route?"
"Yes... Do you want me to show it to you?"
It turned out, knowing the structure of all the houses in the village, Simon knew perfectly well what route to follow that kept you hidden from the eyes of all the villagers.
The first night, it was pretty much just awkward silence. Both of you still internally debating whether it was worth the possible quarrel with your families just to meet the other person.
But the second night you got back together, the decision was made and the conversation flowed as if you were lifelong friends.
Innocent questions about each other's lives evolved into questions about each other's future plans,
You both decided to ignore the voice in your mind that told you not to continue, if anyone in the village, and God willing, anyone in your families, found out; a war would break out.
Your family was much more permissive than his, which meant that if you dared to associate with Simon, they would send you to a convent or marry you off to someone else.
You knew that those were the good options, you preferred not to think about what might happen to him.
It was easier to forget the possible consequences, especially when your hands brushed as you walked. When you felt the heat emanating from Simon's body, warming the side of your body that walked beside him. He walked slower, both so you could keep up effortlessly and to slow down the walk so he could spend more time with you.
In spite of everything, and knowing full well everything you stood to lose if it was discovered. It was during the harvest festival that Simon kissed you for the first time. Hidden in the barn of your family's farm, lying on the hay.
You were both lying down, with you on your back and your head resting on Simon's arm and him lying next to you on his side.
His other hand, the one not under you, rested delicately on your waist, pulling you close to him as if afraid you were going to run away.
His lips were full and warm on yours; a kiss almost innocent and overflowing with inexperience on both sides. Your hand slowly moved up to his jawline, stroking the nascent hair of his beard.
You were both pushing against each other, needing each other's touch and proximity. A mess of tongues to the point that you no longer knew whose was which, as your hands travelled up and down each other's body.
It is because of that proximity that you found it impossible to ignore as Simon's shaft grew in size and hardened against your thigh, the discreet hip movements seeking more friction and rubbing.
"Simon" You called out to him, panic invading your senses.
"Easy... I don't mean to do anything but kiss your lips, sweetheart. But I can't help it when I finally have you in my arms after so long dreaming about it."
And he kept true to his word, his hands never went beyond your hips nor were his lips more daring than kisses at the corner of your lips.
If you noticed moisture on your thigh on the side where he was, you said nothing. Nor did you mention the growing wetness between your legs.
But once you tasted the honey, you couldn't help but visit the hive.
Until then, it had been easy to avoid temptation; you didn't know the sweet sensation, the warmth of each other, the security of being together, the desire, the passion, the possibilities....
But you had to continue to be careful, you didn't know when someone could surprise you.
But when the innocent kisses in the barn turned into something more than kisses on the lips, you could easily expect the punishment you were facing.
"Simon, we can't" You moaned as you noticed Simon's hand move up from your ankle up towards your thigh underneath your dress.
"Why, why delay the inevitable when I know you're the one for me?" he murmured with his lips pressed against the skin of your neck, kissing you wetly and raising every hair on your body.
"But we can't..." You tried to insist, but no longer with any strength against his hand. "I must come pure to the marriage, Simon. Our parents would never forgive."
"Then let us marry, my love. Here and now. The moon and the stars as witnesses that I am yours far more than you will ever be mine, that I was born decades ago but not until I joined you did my heart begin to beat. Witnesses of my love, that there will not be a day that you wake up that is not in my arms, that there will not be a day that you wake up that you do not feel loved. That my work in this life will be to love you each and every day of it. That I don't care if I go thirsty and hungry every day if at nightfall it is your arms that pick me up, that there is no wound or blow that hurts me like when you reject me, when you take me away from you. Don't you realise, love? Don't you realise that I need you more than air? I promise you, my love. That if you accept me you will never ever regret it."
One kiss from your lips was all the answer I needed, the seal of the contract of your unorthodox union.
He kissed you back with the same fervour, a moan escaping his throat as he finally savoured you without thoughts in his mind that would take him away from you and the now.
He moved his hand under your dress, lifting your petticoats in the same way so he could reach your wet folds.
You whimper against his mouth, the touch of the man igniting something inside of you that was waiting asleep in the depth of your body. It is easy for his finger to slip inside between the folds, arching your back at the feeling of the intrusion.
You feel his lips on your jaw, travelling calmly to your ear where he stays professing his love for you, making you mewl when it mixes with the feeling between your legs.
“Simon!” You moan when he adds a second finger, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit sending a shockwave up your column
You are still surrounded by the feeling of prohibition, the tension of possible discovery with its corresponding punishment. But the sensation of Simon's fingers so deep inside you leaves your mind blurred and you can only moan in moans and whispers of his name, urging him to continue, to give you more, to love you as intensely as you love him.
Your self of mere weeks ago would drag you away from the farmer, scolding you for this lack of decorum, this promiscuity.
But then you look into Simon's eyes, and you doubt which shines brighter; the love that overflows from his eyes or the moon that shines from the window.
"You are the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever had the grace to glimpse, my darling." He says suddenly, forcing you to tug at his shirt to crash your lips to his so he doesn't see your blush.
The man who is normally so stoic, perfectly cordial but not saying a word beyond the obligatory. Suddenly turned into a poet in your presence.
If it weren't for his broad fingers caressing that spot inside you that you didn't know existed and that has you swaying your hips to receive his every wrist movement, you would think beyond the now. Of how you will continue this without anyone knowing, how you will continue together when you know perfectly well that none of your families will allow it.
But not now, now all you can think about is how good Simon makes you feel and how you need him to give you more.
You find it impossible to ignore as Simon continues to move his hips against your side, the hardness of his crotch obvious and pressed against your thigh.
You lower your hand, feeling it's only fair to return the favour; but before you even reach the waistband of his pants, Simon takes your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"Don't worry about it, love. I just want to make you feel good, don't worry about me." His lips travel up to your neck once more, leaving wet kisses and licking the spot that makes you cry harder.
There's a knot in the centre of your stomach, which becomes tighter and tighter as Simon continues to touch you. Your hand gripping his shirt squeezes tighter and tighter as the knot tightens.
Never before have you felt this sensation that has you with your face tight, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and your lip between your teeth to prevent a scream from escaping.
This is futile when you feel the knot suddenly loosen, feeling as if your body is drained of energy. Biting your lip proves useless in preventing the moan that escapes your lips before Simon presses his hand over your mouth to prevent the entire village from hearing you.
His hand continues to move, slowing and slowly slipping out of you; the wet sound it emits as it leaves once again causing your cheeks to flush.
"Simon... Let's do it... You said it, why delay the inevitable." You say, repeating his words.
He again touches his lips to yours, letting your bodies speak when you are at a loss for words.
You notice him moving, sitting up to kneel between your legs. He lifts your dress, leaving you completely exposed to him with your legs wrapped around his wide hips.
Your glistering folds shine on the moonlight calling him in, but the pain on his groin makes him selfish enough to limit himself to free his hard shaft from his pants, slightly slapping your sweet cunt with it.
It makes your legs shake and a whimper to leave your lips, desperation flooding from you as your hand goes down between your legs. Simon can't help but stare as your inexpert hand finds his tip making his shudder when you press it against your wetness.
His hips move involuntarily pushing himself between your hand and your folds, making his moan your name. His hands lands on your hips, physically stopping himself from moving more against you knowing perfectly fine he wouldn't last long.
There are already beads of his milky seed threatening to spill from his tip, but it is your hand the one that slowly pushes him lower until it catches on your entrance making the both of you shudder.
He looks at you, catching you looking back at him; last chance to pull back. But your hand moves to his hip, silently urging him forward and he gladly complies.
He slowly pushes in, his length getting engulfed inch by inch into your warm cunt making him whine in unison with you. The stretch makes you hiss just for a second before the juices make it easy for him to move.
He moves back and forth torturously slow, entering inch by inch, moaning when he finally bottoms out. The two of you need a moment to adjust; you to the feeling of getting filled to the brim and him to the feeling on your tight muscles choking him in.
Simon is no stranger to the feeling of his callous hand around his length, already used to the constricting feeling; but never in a thousand years would it compare fairly to the feeling of you around him.
You clench around him, desperate for his movement; but it sends him to bend forwards, his hands resting beside your head. But then he comes face to face with the image of you sprawled under him.
Your legs spread to adjust to his wide hips between them, your folds just as spread to let his girth into your core, your soft hands resting on his ribs to feel him close, your hair messy resting on the hay, eyes half closed blinded by the lust, lips glistering with the mix of saliva from both and cheeks blushed as if by the cold of the morning.
He realises then and there that you are the only thing he needs to survive. That he will fight and kill God himself if he dares to try and pull you away from him, let alone a mere mortal. That he will love you for as long as you love him, and that when you stop doing it he will make you fall in love with him again. That he will travel to the deepest level of hell and back if Death feared to steal you from him.
His hips begin to move, making you arch your back when he finally does and it urges him to compose himself only to manage to feel you come undone around his length.
He has a clumsy rhythm to it, voluntary and involuntary thrust mixing together in a weird dance but still consistent enough to make you feel the knot on your stomach tighten again.
He feels it too, when you start to clench around his length. Softly crying his name as your hands move down to his thighs, urging him to move closer, deeper.
He sees how you close your eyes, head falling back with your mouth open in a silent cry with your wet cunt choking harder and harder his shaft, until you finally breathe out, a moan loud enough to awaken the dead from the tomb and wetness making his way around his length when you finally fall over the edge.
Simon barely has enough control to pull out, the first dribble of his milky sticky spent falling on your pubes before he spurt thick and heavy over your stomach; the change from you welcoming cunt to his dry hand almost keeping him from coming.
He looks down, his seed painting your body, marking you his, soft abdomen moving up and down with your difficulted breathing from the orgasm pulled from you.
“Do you really love me, Simon?” You suddenly ask, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The fear of the consequences finally setting in on your minds now that lust is no longer driving it.
“I do, love. I love you more than anything on this land.” He says, still breathless as he bends down to kiss you again.
Tomorrow, when you meet across the church; the two of you will act as if you didn't know each other. You will ignore the dull pain between your legs and he will ignore the pull of his pants when he remembers how pretty you looked under him.
Every other night the two of you will meet, back in the barn. Professing love and exploring each other's bodies.
And in a couple of months, when you come crying to him, holding onto his shirt; about how your father has told you that he is marrying you to another man. He will hug you, consoling you, and tell you to meet again two days later.
When he will arrive, in his father's cart being pulled by his two better horses; and the two of you will disappear from the village at the crack of dawn, never to be seen again.
In the village there were no more arguments between the families, both ashamed that they lost their kid to their stubbornness. That if instead of fighting they would have supported the two of you, they would have met their grandkids years later and the eternal fight between the families would have ended in a love story.
Instead, Simon and you settled down far away from the village. Where nobody knew where any of you were, and where everyone was told to address you as Mrs. Riley. Where you build your home and your family, and you both lived happily ever after
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I WANT SIMON RILEY TO FINGERBANG ME IN HIS CAR 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣
SAME 🦅🗣️‼️
Warnings: fingering, squirting, light restraint, spanking, pussy spanking
His hands are so big I know they'd reach so deep inside you. He would make you squirt so fast over and over that he's gotta hold your head and water bottle for you as you drink water afterwards to rehydrate since you're so fucked out.
Thank god his seats are leather and not cloth, or else it would be so much harder to clean.
If you're taking a long drive somewhere, he's definitely super handsy and touchy, lightly pinching and squeezing your inner thigh, until he's knuckle deep in your squelching pussy at the next red light.
His windows are definitely tinted too, which you're also thankful for, or else everyone at the red lights would see your skirt either dangling around your ankle or pulled up so high above your hips it might as well be a shirt as you spread your legs for him.
You'll be on a drive-in movie date, and as you lean over into the backseat from the passenger seat over the center console, trying to reach a blanket with your ass out on display for him as you sit up on your knees and arch your back to reach it, he traps you there, his hand pressing down on your lower back as he delivers a few spanks to your ass and upper thighs.
He then pulls down your tiny panties and skimpy little shorts that are so short he can see the bottom of your ass so that when you bend over it just leaves nothing to the imagination, and he leaves tiny spanks to your bare pussy as well as your ass before he's shoving his fingers in you.
"Ah! Simon! mmph-" You squeal as he thrusts his fingers into you, holding you down and restraining you between the seats of the center console. He then pulls your thigh over the console so you're straddling it, opening your legs for him wider.
"You little fucking minx." He says, curling his fingers inside you and you whimper.
"Absolutely fuckin' soaking in your cute little panties. Nearly dripping through these shorts. Good thing I got rid of 'em for ya hm?"
He thrusts his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt until the car is filled with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you, completely forgetting about the movie playing at the drive-in.
"You gonna squirt for me? C'mon squirt all over my fingers. Make a mess bunny." He encourages, and with a few more pumps and slaps to your ass, you're convulsing around his thick fingers and squirting all over his hand and car.
"Yeahhh fuckkk, just like that sweets." He coos, watching your cunt squeeze his fingers so tight he can barely move them.
He then releases his arm on your lower back keeping you in place as he pulls you by your hips to sit back in the passenger seat and helps you slip your wet panties and shorts back on.
"Oh my god- I- sorry Si-" You start to apologize seeing the mess you made.
"Ah- don't. I'll clean it up later, now how bout' we move to the backseat for round two hm?" He says with a smirk, and you comply, the both of you not even remembering there's a movie playing.
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♡ moving on
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