#cod mw2 headcanon

[starandcloud]

Valeria Headcannon

For some reason I can't get it out of my head that she has two rooms, in two different homes. One is where she lives al El Sin Nombre and the other is her childhood home. One room matches the theme of being a crime lord and the other? It's pink with faded wall paper and stuffed animals still on her bed. Exactly how she left it when she was torn from her parents, and when she gets to overwhelmed she goes off the grid and just sits in her old room and cries.

COD Mainlist

Mainlist

[konigbaby]

I'M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH | via vhenan_virabelasan on insta এ

[dmitriene]

cw: könig is a weirdo and reader match him.

könig likes pretty things, young and vulnerable dolls that bat their eyelashes prettily at him, wrapping their dainty hands around his thick bicep, trailing beside him despite his perverse touch, letting him lure them to his messed bed in some dark apartment, fuck their brain silly.

it's always a one time thing, könig ain't good for a long term relationship because of the bitter need to posses that been festering in him from the start, they just use each other, he has a lovely built body that makes girls salivate, and he packs a cock that is too thick you able to feel the ache even the next morning while trying to escape his apartment.

it's not the same with you, könig notices it by the way you cling to him while he punches his fat cock in your tight pussy, shallow thrusts of his wide hips making his thick cockhead pummel into your spongy spot, your hands clinging against his broad shoulders, walls tightening with rapid pulsing.

you ask him for kisses, enveloping his rough mug with your delicate palms and letting his tongue make out sloppily with your mouth, whining broken groans as he presses a wide palm to your tummy, feeling the bulge beneath where his girthy cock pistons in you, making your pussy squelch with each wet glide, as you coat his length in oozing slick.

you even let könig cum in you, flooding you full of creamy cum that drips out your pulsing hole, making a mess from the sheets and your trembling thighs, not uttering for once that now everything is tacky, instead, you curl against him like affectionate kitten and try to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your cramping legs around his waist.

könig doesn't even knows what to think, you don't try to escape his bed immediately, instead pressing your naked body against his beefy one, letting his twitching cock stay buried inside of you, cockwarmed by your snug walls, as you let his burly hands envelope your frame and rock you to sleep like a baby.

and when you wake up early in the morning with pleasurable ache in your body and pussy throbbing, welcomed by the sight of breakfast in bed and könig clinging to you like a pup, smothering your neck in sloppy kisses and slurringly calling you his girlfriend, you don't run away.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[euno11a]

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.

[connorsui]

Imagine a Konig who not only bites but ..doesnt care if it fits or nah …that man will make it fit...

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he was behind you, his large hands gripping your hips firmly as he pushed you against the wall. There were no soft words, no warnings. There never were with him.

Your panties shoved to the side in one swift motion as though they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His breath was hot against your neck, and then you felt it—the familiar sensation of his cock sliding between your folds, sinking into you with no hesitation. The stretch made you gasp, fingers scrambling to find purchase against the wall as he buried himself to the hilt.

Konig wasted no time. There was no tenderness in the way he fucked you, no hesitation. His thrusts were brutal, relentless, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding echoing through the room. The force of it had your legs shaking almost immediately, threatening to give out with every slam of his hips against your ass.

“Fuck,” he growled into your ear, his deep, gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. “That’s it. Good girl. Take it.”

His hands gripped your hips so tightly you were certain you’d find bruises there later, but you didn’t care. The sensation of him pounding into you, the roughness of his thrusts, had your mind spinning, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure. His teeth found your shoulder, biting down hard, and you whimpered as the pain mixed deliciously with the pleasure coursing through you.

He loved leaving his mark on you. Your skin was perpetually covered in his bites—your neck, your thighs, your shoulders. And he always encouraged you to bite him back, leaving matching bruises on his own skin.

Your breath hitched as you felt him twitch inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic as he reached his peak. With a deep groan, Konig came, spilling himself inside you, hot and thick. But he didn’t stop. Not yet.

He kept going, fucking you harder now, using his own cum as lube, each thrust sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body. The feeling of his release leaking out of you, combined with the brutal pace of his thrusts, had you crying out, fingers desperately gripping the wall in front of you as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

“Fuck, Ko—” you gasped, your voice trembling, barely able to form words as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“That’s it,” he growled again, his voice thick with lust, teeth grazing your neck before biting down hard once more. “You’re doing so well. Taking me so fucking well.”

Your body was trembling, mind hazy with pleasure, the relentless pace leaving you breathless. By the time Konig finally finished, his grip on you loosened, you were a shaking, dripping mess—legs weak, panties soaked through, and your mind blissfully wrecked.

With a final bite to your shoulder, Konig muttered. “Good girl.”

[amaranthinespirit]

listening to simon riley talk for hours about his silly little interests

simon isn't really a talkative guy. he's tall and brooding, silent and observant, but once he's got a pretty little thing that'll let him talk for as long as he wants, it's like he never shuts up.

he'll sit next to you on the couch, creaking under his heavy weight as he settles his arm around the back of the couch. he pulls you closer, and you just know he's going to talk. you can tell.

simon is a hand talker. he uses his hands to express himself during his speech, whether it be a simple gesture, or a whole reenactment. his hand against your shoulder, arm wrapped around your back, will occasionally lift up with the movement of his fingers to accentuate his point.

and don't get me started when he talks about his interests. by his tone, you'd think you're holding a gun to his head, deep and gruff, the same monotonous way he speaks about everything.

but the more you ask questions, nodding your head along, he gets more animated, his voice chiming and eyes crinkling with every interested and genuine question from you.

it's hot, watching him talk about the things he likes in such a high manner. before you know it, he's buried knuckle deep in your cunt, thick fingers curling against your gummy walls.

his pace is slow, pumping his wrist in and out of your drooling cunt, feeling the coolness from your drenched panties that he pushed to the side.

he'll reward you with every question asked, speeding up the pace, digging his fingers deeply as your walls constrict around him, swallowing him in. if you remember a bit of information, he'll have your eyes rolling back and toes curling.

and he'll do this all without stuttering, continue rambling on as if he's not fingering your sweet pussy, making you feel good as you soak the cushions under you, nipples pebbled under his fingetips through your thin shirt.

simon riley remains unphased, pulling his fingers from between your legs, having to pry them apart as he watches the sticky release that coats his fingers string back to your slit. the only time this man shuts his mouth, is to taste your sweet cum on his fingers, smirking as he teases your clit with his other hand before snapping your panties back in place. where was he again?

[italktoomuchxd]

Maybe because he grew up in a religious family, maybe because he’s not really in physical touch, but sex is a big thing for Simon Riley.

He never had a one-night stand or a relationship; that's a big thing for him… he doesn't want any exes or something. He wants to directly marry his first love; that's why he's acting like it's rocket science.

But when he met you… oh God, he knew you were the one… you cute thing! He started to spend some time with you. You guys grew closer and closer.

At first, you thought he was a strange man, just a big man; What could he want from you? But when it started raining while you were on a date, you had to go to his house. You were a little scared when he handed you dry clothes and a blanket, turned on your favorite show and you guys actually watched the show you knew he was the one too.

But he's unstoppable when you guys got married...

[stargirlstabber]

imagine könig, the big man he is, slamming his massive dick in and out of you, not caring if it 'doesn't fit'. he will make it fit. he will. he'll manhandle you into various positions, the ones he wants to fuck you in that moment. you'll probably start crying by the time he chases his second release or when he decides to fill both of your tight holes and pushes a dildo or a plug into you. or maybe a vibrator. it really depends on his mood and how good you've been for him. squirming away won't help if he's balls deep into your sloppy cunt, the grip his massive hands have on you holds you like you're a doll to him. which you are.

[khioneee]

simon is possessive and obsessive.

“you’re mine.”

the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoed through the room, each thrust harder and faster than the last. the force of him inside you was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. a broken cry escaped your lips as your orgasm hit, tearing through you at the unforgiving pace he’d set. your body trembled beneath him, bouncing uncontrollably with each thrust as you clawed at the floor, desperate for anything to hold on to.

tears blurred your vision, but even through the haze, you could see him—ghost. his massive frame loomed behind you, the white skull mask glowing dimly in the low light. his blue eyes pierced through the shadows, flickering occasionally into a deep, predatory stare before shifting back, as if a monster lurked just beneath the surface.

a shaky, heated smile curled your lips as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror—wrecked, helpless, taken completely by the man behind you. every thrust sent shockwaves through your body, and the way he possessed you made it clear there was no escape.

simon leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and rough. “i’m going to make you watch me take you over and over again until you’re nothing but a numb, broken thing.”

then he slammed into you harder, pulling a ragged cry from deep within you. your nails scraped the floor in desperation, but there was no reprieve, only his unrelenting rhythm.

“i’m still angry,” he growled, his words vibrating through you as he thrust deeper, faster. “and i’m going to make sure you understand, love—no other man will ever satisfy you again.”

his pace quickened, every thrust a punishment, every motion a claim. you could feel it—his rage, his desire, and the dark promise that dripped from his voice. and in the mirror, it was all laid bare: the power he had over you, the way he unraveled you completely.

simon was taking you, body and soul, and there was no turning back.

[xombite]

“You can’t just pull a bit of mistletoe out of your pocket whenever you fancy a kiss, Johnny.”

"Why no’? Ye didnae complain the last six times.”

“Fair point.”

[mactavishsgfandwife]

thinking about curly-haired simon riley who keeps his hair buzzed cause it’s ‘mad’ and he has no clue how to style it

maybe one day he comes home from a long mission where he didn’t get to cut his hair, or maybe while you were staying together over covid he got lazy and decided to let it grow, and now you’re blessed with the sight of your grumpy military husband with a head of hair like an unsheared sheep

(this is fully inspired by my dreadful hair day today)

[uglygirltrying]

bunny!reader and hare!simon!!!

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

[simonriley09]

Virgin!College!Simon x Nerdy reader :3 [SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR AWHILE]

College!Simon still being a virgin but has eyes for your small stature, doesn't even realize that he's overfilling his cup with water until his mate points it out and his face flushes in embarrassment. He keeps watching you for days until he finds out you take the same class as him. He walks up to you, his 6'2 stature towering over you as he stutters out his name, holding his hand out for a shaky handshake. Over the next few weeks you guys grow close, studying and eating lunch together until you both find out you've been moved into Simon's dorm. He shrugs it off and tells you it'll be fine but he's internally panicking, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he excuses himself and goes to clean up his dorm, hiding his crusty socks (which he nutted in while thinking about you..) and washing the bathroom. The next day he helps you move your stuff in before studying with you for a few hours.

After you guys go out Simon buys some alcohol and sneaks it back into the dorms, prompting you guys to get so drunk you end up making out and stripping eachother bare. You guys make out, lips and teeth crashing against eachother as you get ontop of Simon, rubbing your slit along his his throbbing shaft. Simon whimpers, pulling away and slurring out that he's still a virgin before kissing your neck. You tilt your head back to let him kiss your neck as you slowly sink down on his cock. The stretch aches so good you clench, making him whimper and buck his hips up into you. He flips you on your back, drooling onto your tits as he thrusts fast bt sloppy, hitting your spongy spot over and over again. For a virgin he has amazing stamina, thrusting into your tight, slick cunny for hours and hours. Leaving you a whimpering, fucked dumb mess as he blows his last 8th load into you, pulling out and collapsing beside you.

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[connorsui]

If your passions called, Simon would answer. Boxes arrived while he was gone, filled with fresh journals for your poems, new pens for your writing, and all kinds of baking supplies to spark your creativity. He wanted you to always feel his presence, even if he was half a world away, each package a testament to his unwavering affection. When he returned, you would often slip him small, handwritten notes—your own words of love and encouragement—folded neatly, and he’d keep them close to his heart, tucked in a pocket as if they were a part of him. The others joked about him looking like a:

“proper husband”

for always stopping to read your handwriting, touching every letter as if every word you wrote was a treasure on its own.

There were nights, long ones, when you’d catch him sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through a scrapbook you’d made during his deployment. Pictures of the two of you, your annotations in the margins, your thoughts and memories, capturing moments he hadn’t even noticed you were holding onto. He’d touch each page, almost reverently, lingering on the edges like he was afraid his touch might ruin the paper. And when you’d join him, sliding into his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, he’d tuck his face into your shoulder, silent, holding you close as if you were the only thing grounding him to this world.

Simon never argued with you; never needed to. He believed in “happy wife, happy life” with a fervency others might never understand. If you didn’t like something, he’d change it without hesitation. If you felt uncomfortable going out he would take you back home in his arms, helping you out of your dress with gentle hands, making your favorite tea in the kitchen, casting you warm, lingering glances as you sipped your cup by his side with the prettiest smile he swears he has never seen before in his life.

There were times you’d tease him, testing the boundaries of his devotion with light-hearted remarks about your whims. But no matter what you said, he never wavered. If anything, his dedication seemed to intensify, his love quiet but resolute, unwavering in the face of your every wish. You could see it in his eyes, the way they softened whenever he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world he wanted, needed. To Simon, you were perfection, and nothing you did could ever change that.

When it came to intimacy, Simon was utterly faithful. At night, his hands would roam your form reverently, memorizing every curve, every detail he’d missed in his months away. When you traced the veins on his neck, his breaths came out heavy, the weight of his love pressing down on him. Your touch left him trembling, his normally steady hands shaking as he held himself over you, eyes dark with an almost sacred devotion as he rocked into you with slow, deep movements that left him weak.

When you’d murmur his name, kiss his scarred knuckles, and hold him close, Simon felt himself unraveling in your arms, reduced to nothing but his love for you. His broad, muscular form sank against you, a sturdy weight softened by your warmth, and he’d surrender completely, letting you hold him, a silent confession of his trust and vulnerability.

In the stillness of those moments, he would remember a time when he hadn’t believed in softness when life had taught him only to take and endure. But now, in your arms, Simon Riley found a new truth: that he could give, could cherish, and, most of all, could love without fear. And as he drifted to sleep, wrapped in your love, he knew that he had finally found his purpose—not in battle, nor vengeance, but in this quiet, steadfast devotion to the woman who had taught him that he was worthy of peace.

[amaranthinespirit]

husband!simon riley follows you around like a lost dog 24/7.

whether it be in the comfort of your own home, or out in public, the man is basically your shadow. like a moth to a flame, he is the moth and you're his flame.

it doesn't matter where you saunter off to, chances are, he's stomping right after you. Around your house, he's following you to every room.

need the bathroom? keep the door open, he'll lean against it with his arms crossed over his chest, either watching you silently or tapping away on his phone.

cooking in the kitchen? he's hovering over your shoulder. you can't count the amount of times on one hand you bumped into his broad, brutish chest, stepped on his foot, or, definitely not on purpose, whacked his groin with a small pan. still, he never learns.

watching TV in the living room? you best bet he's going to sit his big ass right next to you. even if you're on the single person armchair, he'll squish you into the armrest if it meant being next to you.

showering? not without him because he'll join you, and find a way to release pent-up need at the same time, that is if you aren't already stressed that day, then he'll just wash your hair and run a relaxing bath for you to soak in peace afterwards.

In public, people give him weird side glances, numerous occasions where you've had concerned folks tap you on your shoulder and give a small point over your shoulder, to which you reply sweetly with the biggest smile on your face, "oh, that's just my husband!"

he keeps a thick finger hooked into the waistband of your pants, or shorts, or looped in one of your belt loops to keep you near him. since you're much smaller than him, it can be easy for you to get lost in big crowds, and this just assures simon that you're never out of reach.

it's a funny thing to watch for the guys to watch, observing their lieutenant follow you around aimlessly like a big puppy, eyes soft as he gazes down at you, sharpening when another person approaches or observing.

you think it comes from never being able to control his surroundings, his obsessive need to keep you safe, more so now that you have a wedding ring on your finger, forever tying you to him. not physically, but he wouldn't hesitate to if it meant keeping you safe.