#military crotch to face

[hotmilitaryass]

So hot 🥵

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

Hot water from the shower runs in snaking pathways over the bulky muscles of the lieutenant’s back as he leans himself against the wall, his forehead resting on the bit of his forearm that is propping his body up while his engorged cock is tightly locked in his clenched fist. Furiously he strokes the length with eyes closed and mouth agape, grunting deep and guttural the tighter he squeezes around that throbbing appendage as he desperately works to ease the ache that has kept him from getting sleep yet another night in a row. 

The military base is hunkered down for the evening, most of the personnel fast asleep as he should have already been, but his mind is too full of thoughts…thoughts if you… that sleep is unattainable at this point unless he does something about them. He knows the risk he’s taking doing this in a communal space, but he hopes that it’s late enough that no one will be around to disturb him until he’s done.

It’s been another long, rough day of having to watch you from afar but not touch, follow you with his dark, hungry eyes while knowing he will never get a chance to taste your sweetness, and he needs a release before he does something foolish. Never has another gotten under his skin the way you have, never has he struggled so hard to keep his desire from consuming him whole like he has to every single time you are near, and lately it is becoming near impossible. 

There's only so much that even a trained professional can take before all that self-discipline goes right out the window and he is reaching his limit with each passing week. If this keeps up he is bound to slip up somehow, you will notice, and he cannot let that happen. He can’t do another desperate sleepless night and be sane enough to face you again the next day, so here he finds himself. 

Behind closed eyes he recalls the images from earlier during training of you sparring with one of the other recruits. The way your body moved and contorted as you took down your opponent, the sweat that glistened and rolled in large drops down your chest and into the top of your shirt, the look of cocky determination in your eyes, and the heavy breaths you took through parted lips was enough to set him off something bad. His hands had to be firmly crossed over his crotch even after you had finished and walked off to hide the stiffy he was suddenly sporting so it wouldn't draw attention from any wandering eyes. 

God, the way he wishes it had been him that was pinned beneath you on that mat instead of the recruit that you took down and makes him stroke even more furiously. Why can't it be your sweet, soft pussy he is thrusting into instead of his rough palm? He’d sell his soul to Satan himself just for a moment spent in your bliss.

Lt. Riley braces his feet wider in the shower to steady himself as a wave of pleasure surges through his limbs and nearly knocks him over as he continues stroking. There is so much sloppiness in his rhythm now; he’s getting closer and soon he’ll be able to think more clearly… at least for a little while. 

“The things I'd do to ya, sweetheart,” he mutters to the vision of you in his mind’s eye, the need overwhelming every sense until he can’t see straight. “Fuck, I just want tha chance ta make ya come. I’d make bloody sure ya would only ‘ave eyes for me from then on.”

His teeth clench behind his parted lips as a bit of salty precum dribbles out of the tip of his cock only to quickly get washed away by the water raining down over him. Fucking hell, this is a problem that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight; this isn’t the first time he’s had to jack off to get a moment of peace and he knows that this will only be a temporary fix. There’s only one thing that can satisfy him for good, but it is the one thing he isn’t allowed to have.

At least he tells himself over and over that you’d never give him the time of day and so he keeps his agonizing distance. So, as the rest of the world around him slumbers, he has to do what he must to get by…and even though he thinks himself the only one awake and trying to work out demons under the cover of night, he couldn’t be more wrong.

At the other side of the barracks, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your room just as you’ve done for the past hour now. You have tried to relax your limbs, clear your mind, close your eyes, but no matter how hard you push yourself, sleep keeps evading your grasp. Why? You know the answer plainly even if you don’t really want to accept it. 

His eyes had been on you again today, Lt. Riley’s. That intense dark brown gaze that always makes your pulse race each time you catch it lingering had been plastered on you even before you stepped up to your sparring partner during training earlier. It was as if he was trying to bore a hole through your body the way he wouldn’t look away. The ache that settled itself in your core at his undivided attention nearly distracted you enough that you about lost the fight and now that you are lying in the dark with nothing to keep you occupied it’s all your desperate mind can focus on.

Does the lieutenant even know what his attention does to you? Would he care even if he did?

What would he think if he knew that just his gaze alone makes your body burn, how you can’t ever seem to get enough of the way you can so easily capture his focus, how it fuels all of your fantasies and daydreams until it’s impossible to be in his presence without your breath quickening and feeling that familiar ache between your legs? Goddammit, if you had your way you would have those eyes glued to yours as he thrusts inside and makes you his for the first time, but you know that’s not a possibility.  

No, it’s got to be pure coincidence, something entirely innocuous, a superior surveying the progress of one of his soldiers. He is the unofficial second in command around here, of course he would need to take account of those that are under him. You’d have to be a fool to think it’s anything more than that, that someone as experienced and weathered as him would ever go for an underling like you, but it doesn’t change how it makes you desperately want to get closer to the serious and intimidating officer.  

Why does the one thing you want have to be so fucking far out of reach?

Your heartbeat is starting to race again and your fingers are too sore to go another round down below, so you give up with a sigh of defeat and get up out of bed; if sleep isn't coming then there's no point in lying here to only get more frustrated that you can’t let those salacious fantasies go. 

Maybe a walk will tucker you out enough that sleep will stop avoiding you, at least it’s worth a try. Better than lying in the dark trying to stroke out the overwhelming thoughts, trying to imagine the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stretches you out. No, staying here is only going to do more damage. Slipping on some shorts with your tank top and grabbing your shoes, you head out of your room and begin your trek through the barracks headed towards the outside. 

You pass by the quiet rooms of your sleeping teammates, nothing but silence filling the halls that causes each soft step you take to sound louder than it should. Room after room passes by the same as the last as you make your way through the long stretches of hallway. All that's left is the showers coming up on your left, then the doors to the outside and you’ll be free to mosey about in the cool air while the music of the night gives you something else to focus on. 

But it isn’t the crickets, frogs, and other nocturnal animals outside that you hear now, nor is it those of the nightwatch making their rounds. It’s something else that grabs your attention.

The closer you get to the communal bathrooms, the more your ears pick up noise out of the stillness. At first it is only the distinct sound of running water hitting off the titles that cover the floors, but soon you catch the muted echo of a voice reverberating inside. Whoever is in there it sounds like they are in distress and curiosity gets the better of you. It's probably nothing, but it's best to check just to be sure. You'll pop your head in, make certain everything is alright, and then quietly leave without anyone knowing. 

Silently you creep up to the door and slowly creak it open so that the hinges won’t squeak and give you away just in case your worries turn out to be unfounded. The ambiguous noises become more clear and you realize it is the heavy masculine grunting of someone in the shower. It takes you a second to place why that sound is so familiar, but after a few seconds it finally clicks and you become embarrassed to have stumbled upon this private, intimate moment.

You move back from the door and almost let it fall closed when you catch the person inside saying something unexpected. Under the sound of the shower head running and heavy panting you swear that you hear the voice moan your name and instantly you are frozen in your tracks, unable to leave as planned.

You know that particular voice. 

Shit, you've heard it so many times over the course of your stay here that it is permanently burned into your psyche. The voice repeats the same and now you are sure that it is your name being moaned and a shiver runs up your spine. There is no mistaking it now that you detect that recognizable thick British accent. 

It's your lieutenant, that masked enigma himself, Simon Riley.

Instantly your cheeks feel like they are on fire as he repeats it again this time in more of a whimper. Is he really…? This has to be your overstimulated mind playing tricks on you. And yet there it is again, his deep voice grunting your name with more urgency as if he is intoxicated by the way that it rolls off his tongue and suddenly your head is spinning so that you aren’t immediately aware of what you’re doing.

Stop, you hear your inner thoughts swirl around the chaos inside your skull. What the hell are you thinking? Why are you going inside?

Even as you internally ask the questions, you can’t stop your feet that seem to have a mind of their own now and force you further inside the empty bathroom and over to the source of all those delicious sounds. The countless restless nights, the endless cravings for his presence that leave you desperate, the infinite amount of times you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him…your body needs this and it isn’t going to let you walk away until you see for yourself if this is real. 

If there is a chance…

The grunts come faster now as the lieutenant is about to blow when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. There is a shadow on the other side of the curtain that hadn’t been there before, a dark mass of a figure standing stock still just outside the thin plastic veil hiding him from the rest of the room. His blood runs cold, anger taking hold as he is forced to stop and confront whoever it is that has decided to disturb him with their presence. 

Who the fuck could be up at this time at night anyway and why now when he was nearly finished? He pulls back the curtain in one swift, irritated motion just enough to poke his head out and confront the bastard, but to his surprise who should be standing there then the one person he doesn’t need to come face to face with in this intimate moment. You stare back at him with wide eyes brightly shimmering in the fluorescent lighting overhead. 

“The fuck ya think you’re doin’?” he barks harshly, flustered by the awkward position you've found him in. “Do ya know what fuckin’ time it is? Ya should be down for tha night instead a skulkin’ about. I suggest ya get out and head back where you're supposed ta be.”

You hear the jarring response: should move, leave, follow his order, but you can't. The sight of the water glinting off his husky chest, beads of condensation sparkling through the light brown hair covering his sternum and down his abdomen, is too delicious a sight for you to pull your eyes from. You always knew that the lieutenant was a mass of muscle, it’s clear even through his bulky tactical gear, but to see it all in the flesh is another story. How are you meant to walk away from all that tantalizing, slick, heated skin?

Without even thinking, you step in closer. “I …don’t want to go.” 

“What?” The question comes out as a surprise.

You swallow. “I said I don’t want to go,” you reiterate.

You wrestle with yourself on what to do now that you’ve gotten here as he stares back at you in confusion, sensing how the air has suddenly seemed to shift all at once. Do you reveal the truth and tell him everything, including that you heard his desperate pleas? Will that be enough? Or do you do something else entirely? What if he rejects any advances just to save face? 

“What're ya…?” he starts to ask, only to lose the end of his sentence as you move in until the thin plastic curtain is the only thing keeping you apart. 

Screw it, you’ve come this far and that throbbing ache between your legs is ruling your actions now. This is a terrible idea, but that is the only type available at this time of night. Your heartbeat is in your ears as your gaze locks to his and your fingertips grab at the hem of your tank top to slowly drag it up over your torso and pull it off the top of your head. The skimpy bit of fabric hangs idly from your hand almost sweeping the floor as you stand there bare chested staring back at him. 

If this doesn’t make your intentions clear, then nothing will, and hopefully the temptation is enough to sway his actions.

Simon tries to inhale, but the wind has been knocked from his lungs and he can’t seem to get it back. Composure is his calling card and yet right now being in control isn’t an option anymore, not with the way you look like the most perfect treat he’s ever laid eyes on. He releases a shuddered breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. There is a heat in his chest and it’s spreading through his limbs like a wildfire, ready to consume all the common sense he has left. Watching that hardened man break gives you new found confidence and you find your voice amidst the dibilitating rise in your blood pressure.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you manage to say without faltering. “Not after what I just heard.”

Fuck, he really has been found out.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t take your eyes off of me, sir?” you continue, the truth spilling out like the water from the shower. “You might think yourself slick because of the mask, but I swear whenever we’re near each other I can feel your gaze lingering on me. It’s not the same one you give the others, this one is different… and do you know the worst part?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment even though Lt. Riley doesn’t even try to answer it; he can’t, he’s too overwhelmed. “The worst part is that I can’t get enough of it.”

The lieutenant’s vision is tunneled in on your sweet lips as he listens to your words, the desire to grab you and drag you to him spreading throughout his limbs at your confession. A few stray droplets of water drip down from the cropped tips of his dirty blond hair and hit the top of your shoes as he struggles to speak.

“This is a bad idea, luv,” he says as his final attempt to give you an out. “Ya should go ‘fore ya do somethin’ ya regret.”

You shake your head. “The only thing I’m going to regret is leaving. I can’t take another sleepless night. And it sounds like you can’t either.”

As you speak, you quietly slip your feet out of your shoes and toss your shirt haphazardly away and it crumples to a heap on the ground. “I need you… so bad. I can’t take it anymore. Please, don’t send me away.”

That’s it, all sense is completely gone as Simon Riley is no longer in control of his actions, not after hearing you plead for him to take you. Ripping open the curtain all the way, he silently pulls you into the shower and shoves you back into the tiled wall. Your big doe eyes peer up at him as the water mists from the showerhead above you and trickles off your eyelashes. 

He watches the droplets collect and sparkle like diamonds as they fall onto your delicate cheek, his bare chest heaving up and down laboriously with each panted breath as he takes in all he can now that he has the chance. His large hands glide over your arms as he truly contemplates the consequences of his actions, but there is no reprimand, no amount of punishment in this moment that can make him fight off the brunt of his attraction.

You stand in his presence only able to look on, mesmerized by finally being able to take in the enigma you’ve only rarely ever seen in bits and pieces and never this up close. Goddammit he’s handsome. All those stark, chiseled features, the light covering of brown stubble along his jaw, those brilliant eyes that are even more gorgeous now that they aren’t shadowed in his mask steal your breath away. Old, faded scars are speckled across his visage and trail down the length of his body, but even those take nothing away from his looks. 

Husky, bulked out muscles from years of hard physical labor, outline and glistening with water meet your gaze the further your eyes travel. The sheer girth of his body is enough to make your mouth salivate as you wait in anticipation for it to be molded into you, dwarfing yours in comparison. 

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long, luv,” he breathes as his sight drifts down to the beautiful pair of naked breasts nearly pressing into his chest, bringing you back from your supor as you admire. “I need to hear ya say it, that I can ‘ave my way with ya.”

Anything, you’ll say anything to break that short, agonizing distance between you. “Fuck me,” you say, lips left parted as you wait for him to take the lead and break the tension.  

There is a ringing in his ears as if the entire world has suddenly fallen silent as the brunt of his suppressed desire floods immediately to the surface, overwhelming everything in a blink. Without a word he urgently cups both of his palms around either side of your head just behind your ears, thumbs resting along your jaw so that he can draw your face to him as he leans down into your face. He has to kiss you now; the need is suddenly so strong it’s like he is choking on it. You barely have a second to take a breath before he crashes his lips on your own.

He captures those soft bits of skin over and over again in desperately feverish waves, stealing the balmy air from your mouth to sustain the connection so that he doesn’t have to break it just yet. The last thing he wants to do is destroy this overwhelming magnetism that draws you both together and by your way you grab onto the meat of his hips to pull him tighter to you, he knows you feel it too.

Has anything ever felt more euphoric than the way your full, soft pout feels? Has anyone ever tasted as sweet, has he ever been more instantly hooked on the sensation of someone else’s mouth pressed to his? He can’t remember anymore. There is nothing else outside of you in this desperate moment. 

Releasing your face, his rough fingertips follow the curve of your spine down to roundness of your ass where he grabs handfuls to massage. So absorbed in your taste, the feeling of your lips, the heat of your breath, that it takes minutes for him to realize that there is still a barrier between your bodies: the shorts now damp from the shower still hopelessly clinging to your hips. They have to go as they are very shortly going to get in the way.

“Wanna get these fuckin’ things off,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls the fabric down, miserably removing his mouth from your own so that he can help you step out of them. They are quickly tossed past the shower curtain and before they even can hit the ground he is harshly pressed back against you once again to steal your mouth and devour your kiss. 

Your moistened bodies slip across each other as the pressure builds and the movements become more desperate, him pushing his hardened cock into your pelvis as he grinds against you and shoving a thick thigh between your parted legs to give you something to hump. He fills your mouth with a muffled groan as the silky lips of your pussy connect with the skin; it’s better than he could have ever imagined it feeling and he cannot wait to get inside and be constricted by your walls squeezing around him, but there’s a little more he has to explore first.

Patience, he’s going savor this moment like it’s the only one he’ll ever get.

“Tha’s it,” he encourages in a short burst, trailing his lips down to your jaw towards your throat as you roll your hips hard to catch your clit on the muscle. “Fuck, ya do need it bad, don’t ya? I wanna hear it, tell me how bad you’ve needed it, luv.” 

Those hungry lips reach the side of your neck and start to suck, puckering the skin into his mouth and you struggle to remember how to talk through the sensitivity hazing your thoughts. “Everytime I have to see you… f-fuck…  can’t sleep. Have to keep … uuughh… t- touching myself for relief.”

His mouth continues to trail lower and lower down the contours of your body, leaving warm, moist kisses along the skin of your collarbone and over the side of your chest. “Keep going,” he orders.  

You gulp down another moan as his burning lips lock to your breast, suctioning to the areola while that agile tongue flicks over the very tip of your nipple until it’s stiff. God, your tits are like heaven, so soft and juicy as they fill his mouth.  His hand palms over the other breast and begins to play; he won’t leave that one to not receive any attention.

“Can’t…focus,” you stammer, “can’t think of anything except you. Begging into the dark for you…to take me…to make me yours.”

“Think ‘a my cock a lot, luv?” he asks amused as he switches sides and takes the other breast into his hungry mouth.

The heat in your face makes your cheeks feel swollen. “I…do,” you admit as if you both aren’t already naked and humping each other. 

“Wonderin’ what it would feel like?”

“Wanting it inside me,” you add.

His hand leaves your chest and moves between your bodies to grab yours and bring it down to wrap around the girth of his shaft. “It don’t ‘ave to be a mystery anymore, sweetheart.” 

Goddammit, he’s big. You’d barely had time to register the look of it before his mouth was plastered to yours and though you can feel it grinding into you, now that it is in your fist it makes your breath hitch. “F-fuck…” you moan as your hand slides up and down the length.

Simon’s cock twitches as if in response to the ache in your voice and you can feel its heartbeat. The thrill to know you have a strong grip on such a man as the lieutenant, that it is you he wants, it’s you he needs, that his cock is hard just for you makes you grind against him with eyes closed trying to make yourself come.  

“Gonna stuff ya full,” he groans from the pressure you apply as you continue to work him. “Stretch out your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

The steam billows around your conjoined bodies, condensation enfolding you in a layer of mist as if you’re stuck in a dream when he finally emerges hastily from your chest with lips puffy and red from the suction. He rips your hand from around him as the pressure has almost reached the point of no return and aggressively he picks you up as if you weigh nothing; he’s stronger than you realized to be able to lift you almost effortlessly. 

“Put your legs ‘round me. Now,” he barks sharply and you do as you’re told. He braces your back up against the wall for leverage as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and his sight drifts down between your bodies. 

“Ready for me?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. 

A nod is all he is going to get, the inside of your mouth tasting like copper as you bite your cheek to keep quiet as his swollen tip slips through your petals to find the opening, rubbing up against your swollen clit. Your slick coats his cock, a clear sign that he’s good to go. It takes him only a moment with a slight adjustment of his hips to align with his target.

“Deep breath, sweet girl,” he says as he raises his gaze to peer back into your eyes and with a thrust the fat tip pushes through the threshold of your aching, throbbing core, stretching it wide as it takes him in.

Instantly you choke on the moan that stuffs your mouth full and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep it from escaping. The lieutenant does the same, but you can feel the bass vibrate through his chest as his steel-like grip digs harshly into your waist.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says breathily through a lustful chuckle, fighting off the urge to blow his load before he’s even gotten all the way in, “but ya can take more, can’t ya?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time and again he thrusts past the tip down his veiny shaft and reaches the base. You can’t hold it in anymore, the way his cock fills you so full makes you lose yourself. Eye closed, you can’t stop the loud moan that you let out and the sound reverberates off the walls of the cramped space until it is amplified. To think you were ever going to satisfy yourself with only your fingers when all of this was waiting for you to discover seems almost comical now.  

The lieutenant’s large hand rushes to cover over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me. Don’t need anyone comin’ in and ruinin’ this. I’m not done with ya yet, luv; gotta make ya come for me first.”

The shine in your glazed-over eyes gives him your answer and he removes his hand with a nod as he knows an even better solution to keep you quiet. He leans back in and his lips pull yours into their secure embrace before he risks slipping in his tongue to wrestle with yours; can’t make much noise with your mouth so full.  

There’s no way he is going to calm down enough now to stave off his orgasm for much longer and so with your mouths connected he starts to thrust, dragging himself nearly out of your core before slamming back up into you. Every thrust strikes up into your pussy shoving him in as deep as he can get, your body shaking from the force as your back is dragged up and down along the wall. The moisture on the walls keeps the friction low so you can move easily with his percussive hits into your body.

So fucking wet, so goddamn tight, how is he meant to not fall apart? Simon can’t help rutting into all that goodness like an animal hell bent on capturing every bit of pleasure he can. Lost in the feeling his rhythm wavers, but breaking from your mouth and taking a few deep breaths he gets himself right back on track. As he bucks wildly up into you your arms hold on tightly around the back of his neck and you notice how the muscles tense with each of his strong thrusts. 

“Need ya ta come for me… need it so goddamn bad…” 

There is no hiding the desperation in his words. He has to know that your body belongs to him now, that after tonight you won’t ever even think of straying from him. You’re his, his, and after all the agony he’s endured before getting here, he has to make sure of it. 

That burn deep in the muscle starts to shoot through his thighs, but he doesn’t slow and the more he works the more that warmth gathers in the pit of your stomach. You’ve dreamed of moments like this for so long it becomes overwhelming: the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock buried deep inside you, his honeyed words conveying everything you’ve wanted to hear; it’s euphoric.

You whimper and quickly breathe it out. “Fuck, gonna come.” 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Almost there,” he coaxes, secretly knowing that at any moment he is going to come too. “Jus’ let go and come for me. Let me feel it, pretty girl.” 

It’s there, it’s so close. That sweet release is within reach. “A-ah…fuck… almost there…”

“My good girl,” he grunts, “come on my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as the pleasure builds until all at once, like the flick of a switch, your core contracts and all of that intensity explodes in a blast of warmth that flows through your limbs. Leaning forward, you bury your face in his shoulder and whimper as you ride out that wave of ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans behind clenched teeth at the feeling as your core constricts around him, sending him over the edge. 

Wrenching his cock out as fast as he can, he angles it up between your bodies. You regain some composure, enough to instinctively reach for it to stroke him the rest of the way through. His hot, milky cum dribbles onto your stomach in short bursts while his upper body twitches as you work out all you can. Finally, he falls in against you and places his hand on top of yours to force you to stop.

The sound of the running water conceals the sound of your combined breathing as you both come back down from that high and he can set you back on your feet carefully. Back on solid ground you both just stand there quietly taking in the moment and all that just happened until the lieutenant breaks the silence.

“Think you’ll be able ta sleep now?” he asks as his fingertips caress over the heat in your cheeks.

You nod with a smile spread across your lips. “But I’m not sure about tomorrow night,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Might be up again.”

Biting his lip he tilts his head away as he tries not to show how much it excites him to hear you say that, rubbing his hand over his head to slick back his short hair. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Right now, though, I got a mess ta clean up.”

There is one last, deep kiss waiting for you before he gently pulls you under the showerhead to wash away the evidence of what happened here tonight. As he watches the water run down off your delicious curves and flow down the drain, he realizes that this is going to become an even bigger problem than he had before… but fuck is he ready for it.

[ghostsandguns]

While some men might dread that time of the month with their partner, John is anything but that.

He can always tell when your period is approaching because, in the days leading up to it, you become extremely horny, almost like an animal in heat.

This is when his military training truly comes in handy, as John has to stay on high alert every second of the day, knowing you’re always ready to jump him.

Just yesterday, you caught him off guard during his workout session. He'd been laying on a weight bench, taking a break in between sets, when you sat down on his lap. Taking you less than a minute to get him hard and sink down onto his fat cock.

John had refused to move as a form of punishment, but that didn't matter because you were so on edge that it only took you a couple of thrusts before you reached your orgasm.

Afterwards, he had turned you over to smack your ass cheeks a few times until they were red and stinging.

You, however, hadn’t learned your lesson.

When John was in an online meeting with the squad, you quietly slipped into the room and crawled under his desk.

This led to your current situation, sitting between his legs and reaching for his zipper. When you hear him clear his throat as a subtle warning, you pause your movements for a second.

"You alright there, sir?" Kyle asks over the screen, putting whatever they were discussing on hold.

"Just an itchy throat"

You feel his hand resting on top of your head, slowly threading through your hair as you continue your antics and pull out his cock.

Simon's talking in the background sounds like white noise to you, as you can only focus on the target in front of you. The hormones in your system going haywire, as you almost start drooling at the sight of his hardening member.

You move in and give the head a small teasing lick, testing the waters. When John doesn't make any move to stop you, you take it as a sign to continue, giving it sloppy kisses to get him fully hard.

John is not small down there by any means, and you always see it as a challenge to try and swallow as much of him as you can.

The hairs at his groin tickle your face while you greedily suck him off, trying to be as quiet as possible. You can almost imagine him trying to keep his face calm, but the hand tightening in your hair says otherwise.

When you slip your hand into your panties, you silent thank yourself for wearing a skirt, granting easy access to your cunt. Swiping through your folds, you're not surprised to feel how wet you are.

Quickly gathering some of your slick on your fingers, you insert two fingers into yourself, thrusting at a steady pace.

It doesn't take long before you feel your orgasm approaching, accidentally letting his cock slip from your mouth when you release a high-pitched moan.

It isn't until a few moments later, when you've come to your senses again, that you realise the room has fallen silent.

"Sir, wis tha whit aye think it wis?" you hear Johnny mumble, before John suddenly pulls you out from under the desk and onto his lap. This new situation making your face turn red as you're now facing his squad members on the screen.

"This one can't seem to behave," John grumbles. "Have to punish her, am I right, boys?"

You see Simon, the traitor, give a firm nod in response to his question as you attempt to make a quick escape—only to have John pull down your underwear and spreading your legs.

"Ye gone an' done it noo, ye cheeky wee besom," Johnny chuckles.

With your pussy on full display, you try to look away, but John holds your face and whispers in your ear, "Don't look away from the camera, love. Or you'll get another spanking"

The faces of his subordinates turn serious as their eyes roam over your body. You're pretty sure you see Johnny move his hand towards his crotch, and you should be embarassed, but instead, you find yourself even more turned on.

John softly smacks your cunt a few times to grab your attention. "Please, John..." you softly moan, but he doesn't seem pleased with that response.

"Hmm? That’s not the proper way to address me, is it?"

You make a mental note to pull his ear later for the situation he's putting you in. Yet in this moment, your desire to get a good fucking wins, so you reluctantly give in.

"Please... Daddy"

That seems to do the trick, as he lets out a satisfied grunt, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times before aligning it with your entrance.

He doesn't give you a warning before he pushes in and bottoms out. Your walls tight and clenching down on him, almost as if you're afraid he might run away.

At the beginning of your relationship, it had taken a lot of patience and practice to get used to his size.

Even though you and John have fucked many times before, you've never been able to get used to the sensation of being completely filled. You could get addicted to it, if you're not already.

You're pulled back to reality, as he gives a few slow thrusts before suddenly setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard. John makes sure you stay put, holding both of your arms to pull you down with each thrust.

You swear you can almost make out the shape of his cock from the bulge that's forming on your stomach. And by now, you're shamelessly moaning out loud as he pounds into you.

Catching a glimpse of the screen, you see the three men shamelessly jerking off, and the image of it sends you into a frenzy. Behind you, John is groaning whilst hitting that soft, raised spot in you that makes you see stars.

You're so lost in the pleasure that you don't even notice him putting his hand on your lower abdomen, until he starts pressing down. The pressure of his hand and the pounding into your g-spot make you feel like you need to pee.

''Ohmygod, ohmygod, John'' you gasp out, grabbing his arm. ''I can't hold it in—it's going to gush out, John!''

He ignores your pleas, not slowing down as you're unable to hold it in and start squirting all over his desk.

At the same time, Johnny's moans grow louder in the background, as he reaches his own orgasm ''Achh, just like tha lassie''

And it's the combination of both of your desperate noises that seem to set John off, thrusting a couple more times, before he stops moving.

His cock throbs and pulses as it fills you with his release until your cunt is overflowing—the semen leaking out and dripping down the sides of his member.

As you begin to lose consciousness, you think you faintly hear John speaking to his men ''You lads coming over for a second round?''

[porcalinecunt]

Hear me out: Jason todd with a pathetic fem criminal/thief he loves to play with involving gunplay

- heart anon ❤

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 you couldn’t be a decent criminal for shit, so much so, the red hood himself has rather ulterior motives . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X FEM! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — rough sex, semi public, slight gunplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding, jason being a bully :<

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ i kinda hate this lol, sorry if my writing falls off towards the end. i haven’t touched this draft in MONTHS [sobs]

“i-i won’t hesitate!”

“yeah..threatening the guy with the ak-47..”

he scoffs, barely clutching onto the military grade weapon as if he knows you’d miss every last one of your shots from the tiny pistol you held. your shakey hands were already such a dead giveaway.

petite, timid and easy to snap in two. that’s enough to have the red hood himself laughing at your pathetic attempts to intimidate him. he almost wondered how Black Mask’s goons allowed you through just to grab a nice stash of hard drugs, most likely to sell for a ridiculous price.

“look little girl, put the pistol down and i’ll make it easier for ya. don’t gotta act all tough on me..” the barrel of the rifle faced the floor, clearly he doesn’t wish to waste a bullet on your airheaded self.

there’s my chance! you thought to yourself, rushing past the vigilante and booking it to the stairwell. a grin stretched your lips, how easy was that? and he’s meant to be the best!

as if red hood heard your thoughts, the larger figure dropped down from the ceiling right in front of you with an ear shattering thud! stopping dead in your tracks, you threw a hasty punch that was easily blocked before red hood yanked you by the wrist and threw you onto the wall next to you. not even a second went by before you felt his build press against your smaller figure. trapped.

“h-hey! let me go you prick!” you whined and pouted, trying to push your way out with no success. he didn’t even feel like another man, more like a wall.

amidst the struggle, you heard a small chuckle before the red hood succumbed to laughter. he was fucking laughing, at you. angry, you weakly elbowed him in the rib which did next to nothing. it only earned you another wheeze and chuckles from the hooded bastard.

“awe, what’s the matter? can’t fight back? is this your first crime girl?”

you looked back with an angry pout, his white eyes that were basically holes in that bulky helmet of his narrowed in amusement. an expression that admittedly, gave you a case of butterflies. the way he taunted you, laughed at you, even looked at you. fuck, you wondered if he was seeing anyone outside of fighting crime.

your facial expression must’ve shifted, as the masked vigilante tilted his head. “got something to say to me, little girl?”

his eyes widened a little after saying that, probably because of the way you began to press against his own body. whether you knew it or not, you’re practically arching, pressing your ass against his crotch. it really didn’t help that you were wearing a tight one piece that showed off every curve and shape of your figure.

it didn’t take long before red hood picked up on your intentional eye fucking, backing up to allow enough space for him to grab your hips and roam around your body. the red hood was a greedy one, grabbing and squeezing every bit of flesh he felt on you until he finally found your breasts. his hand alone covered the whole thing, that’s how huge he was. a sudden and rather harsh squeeze made you jump.

"don't be rough!" you whined as the crime lord gently massaged the sore flesh, only to give it another squeeze and forcing a yelp out of your throat. "you're mean..!"

"awe, am i? thought you were a big girl with that prissy attitude and the gaul to act all tough with me.." jason cooed in a mocking tone. even through the material of your bodysuit, you could feel him growing harder and harder against your ass. your stomach was in knots from the sheer length of this man, yet you never fessed up as his fingers found the zipper hidden in the fabric. . . .

you couldn't make a noise, not with jason's huge palm over your slobbering mouth while his cock pistons in and out of your ruined cunt. two orgasms ripped out of you yet he refuses to stop for even a breath, or to take off that stupid helmet.

"c'mon..i know you got another in ya." he grunted, smacking your left thigh which was covered in hand prints from the earlier rounds. you weren't wrong when you called him mean earlier, the way he discarded your bodysuit to him throwing you against different surfaces like a ragdoll. now, he has you over the stair railing while he brutally fucks you from behind.

your knees buckled from the pressure as you clung onto the dirty railing for dear life, the skin on your ass a bright red from his hips slamming against it. you turned your head slightly to meet those white eyes that bore themselves into your brain, how you wish he just took it off to see who's actually fucking you mid failed heist. stupidly, you reached out behind to try and pry even a little, only for a gun cocking to startle you frozen.

"fuck you think you're doing? thought you were slick huh.."

a breathy chuckle followed, as you heard the subtle clicks of the gun inching closer and closer to your ear until the barrel was pressed right below your jaw. you didn’t know if it was fear or arousal, but nonetheless, the next thing you knew was your stuffed cunt clenching around jason’s girth like a vice.

“ohh..you like this, do you?” he started, caressing the gun against your bruised skin. the cold outer was a sharp yet welcoming contrast to the hot air that suffocated you beneath his weight. you mewled in response, practically strangling his cock the harder you clenched.

the vigilante picked up his pace, groaning in your ear as he pointed the firearm below your jaw as if you were a hostage. a strangled moan echoed throughout the stairs and your knees buckled, prompting jason to wrap an arm around your waist.

“m’gonna..m’gonna cum..please..” you sighed, screwing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“cum f’me girl…don’t fuck this up too..” jason chuckled from the mean jab as his dick twitched against your cervix. before you could respond to his passive aggressive remark, you’re vision went white as a sudden wave of heat filled your ruined pussy. your vision blurred as jason fucked his cum deep into your cunt, not allowing a drop to slip out.

“atta girl..maybe you aren’t as stupid as i thought..”

jason tapped the gun against your thigh as he continues to move his hips against yours, not caring about the fact you could barley hold on at this point.

another round wouldn’t hurt, especially with the antics you’ve pulled today.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[reignpage]

Restrained Beast

in which you tie up boyfriend!Konig

warnings: 18+ mdni, rope, bondage, cursing, suffocation, size kink, power play, slight dubcon, cowgirl, missionary, spitting, primal, prey, slight dacryphillia

the universe had blessed you with a once in a lifetime gift in the form of your big and strong boyfriend finally allowing you to tie him up. it was quite ridiculous actually, wrestling him into position, straddling his bare chest as you tied a rope around his wrists, looping it through the gap in your headboard. konig was a huge man, he took up the entire expanse of your bed, and you weren’t confident the rope would hold him. 

if he wasn’t so compliant, there was no way you would have ever managed to lift even just one arm into position; it weighed a ton. he was pure muscle, carved from years of military service, crafted to be the perfect battering ram. every flex could kill, he could smother you in your sleep with his heavy torso, even step on you if he wasn’t so careful. and god, did you love it. 

he was pure strength, the perfect killer, and yet there he was, peering up at you with a light blush and a small smile. his blond chest hair was coarse under your palms as you met his stare with a grin. konig had needed a little convincing to agree to your idea; in fact, it required a lot of begging and promises that you’d make it worth his while. 

the concept of being suppressed went against every instinct in his body, but how could he say no to his beautiful girl? so cute and so sweet, politely asking with big eyes and a pout. he wanted to make you happy, always. so there he was, lying patiently, completely naked under you. he tested the rope and felt pride warming his chest (and his cock) at his angel who clearly did her research, wanting to do it right, for him. 

“schatz, ride my cock, ja?” 

said cock was pointing to the ceiling, perfectly proportionate to his gigantic stature. it was always a struggle getting him inside you; you needed a lot of foreplay, and konig was more than happy to oblige every time. he would spend hours focused on you, making you ride his thigh, fingers, and face. he worshiped your pussy like it was the holy grail, lapping at your essence as if he couldn’t get enough. 

he overstimulated you every time, but you knew he didn’t mean to, right? you knew he just had a tendency to get lost in the taste of you, your scent overwhelmed him, and oh how he loved the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing his head. and when you would pull his hair in a desperate attempt to make him stop, his eyes would roll back before pinning down your frantic hips with an arm thrown over your stomach, diving back in with greater fervour. 

you bit your lip, nodding shyly as you scooted down his body, soaking pussy grazing his stomach. it made his happy trail shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. you loved the hair, the feeling of it tickling you, the way it was barely visible unless you were pressed right to his crotch, and you often were. 

quickly rubbing your clit, you exhaled, physically and mentally preparing yourself to take him again. no matter how many times you had played with that part of him, you never got over how intimidating his cock was. everything about him was intimidating, it was one of the reasons he rarely left your shared home; people always stared. 

clutching his cock, you lined him up with your quivering hole, gulping as you pushed down. a pleasurable burn made you hiss, head thrown back as you heaved. every inch made you fuller and fuller until you felt like you couldn’t take any more, but one glance down and you realised you weren’t even half way down. 

how was that even possible?

“all of it, maus.”

you shook your head in a panic, your fight or flight instincts triggered. 

“ja, you can take it. you always do.”

könig pulled at his restraints with more force than he had intended, rattling the bed frame. he was itching to touch you, to blanket your tits with his palm and pinch at your nipples. the man wanted to feel your skin, pull your front down against him so he could kiss you, smother your whines with his mouth and push down every protest with his tongue. 

god, he just wanted to grip your hips and pull you down till he was buried to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix in the way he knew you loved. konig had been on edge the entire time, he wasn’t used to not being in control, not like this, where he was completely helpless. 

but knowing he was at your mercy made him leak pre-cum like a faucet. 

eventually, with lots of praise and encouragement, he was in. you needed a second to adjust, to will away that burn as he stretched you to your limits, split you in half.

he might have complained when you initially brought it up, but you could tell he loved this just as much as you did if the incessant throbbing inside of you was anything to go by. his skin was cool to the touch, his sweat making it

slightly difficult to get a grip but you persevered, lifting your hips a little before letting gravity do its thing in an experimental stroke. it lit a fire inside of you and you knew you needed more. 

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“just - hah- like that, schatz.”

“fuck, liebling, so good -ngh- for me.”

his every praise and groan fuelled your thrusts and grinding, ignoring the ache of your muscles, intent only in making both of you cum. and with the way the head of his cock was pressing against that spongey spot inside of you, you weren’t going to take long. 

könig threw his head back when you lifted your hips as high up as you could before slamming down with a splat, juices flying and making both of your skin sticky. a white ring of cum was forming around his base and he would watch it dribble down all day if he could. 

your sobs were music to his ears, so breathy and uninhibited, he couldn’t believe he was making you feel that way. never thought he’d have such a good girl loving his monstrous body, obsessed with his freak of a nature stature, but there you were, a blissed out expression on your face as you held your tits in your hands, muttering his name again and again. 

like a plea thrown in the wind, you heard your name calling to you through the fog of pleasure. konig was looking up at you in the way he always did when he wanted one thing. the realisation that he wanted every part of you made you clench down on him, and you both moaned.

and of course, how could you disappoint your precious boyfriend? so you lean closer to him, breaths mingling as you teased him with a graze of your lips against his. he opened his mouth, but you couldn't help yourself; you swerved to the right and sucked at his skin, at the junction where his shoulders met his neck. he was so much bigger than you, you had to stretch to reach his chin.

he tasted salty and clean, like a glacier. he tasted like the love of your life. and you didn't think you'd ever get your fill. only his cockhead sheathed in your warm pussy; you had to climb the expanse of his body to reach you destination and when he growled your name, you knew you couldn't tease him any longer.

so with a playful scold, you gave him a love tap on his cheek, giggling at the flutter of his lashes. thumbing his plush bottom lip, you drawled, "open wide, koni baby."

and without looking away, you spat into his mouth and watched enthralled at the hasty swallow. there was no hesitation, no reluctance. only pure satisfaction as he pulled at his restraints again. it was like he had forgotten his predicament, so caught in your taste and smell, and the way your hips were swivelling around the head of his cock as you leaned back, pussy greedily swallowing his entire length once again.

you were so close, mewls getting louder and higher, whining every time your clit rubbed the hair on his pelvis just right, and pinching your nipples the way he would. he wanted to bring you there, wanted both of you to reach your high, and he couldn’t wait. no, he was desperate, needed you to move faster, to slam on his cock harder, just the way you like, the way you needed him to. 

perhaps, if either of you weren’t so caught up in the maddening hedonism, then you would heard the creaking of fibres being pulled apart. 

riding his cock wantonly, you moaned like a siren, uncaring about the neighbours who were no doubt in the middle of filing a complaint. again. and when konig jutted his hips upwards, you moaned even louder, stars sparkling behind closed eyes. you could feel him everywhere and yet it wasn't enough.

“kon, so close, ‘m so close.”

snap!

you barely registered it over the cacophony of your moans, the squeaking of the bed and the slamming of the headboard. but the big hands suddenly grasping your hips in an unforgiving grip was unmistakable, and when he lifted you up and heaved you down, a scream being rammed out of you, you knew your big bad boyfriend had broken free of his restraints. 

anyone else would have feared for their lives, having a ferocious beast be on the loose, but you barely had time to think about the terrifying glint in his eyes before he was throwing you onto your back and jackhammering into your sopping pussy like he was battering through the heaviest door. 

you were speechless, mouth hanging open in a perpetual o shape as your eyes rolled back, hands clutching at the sheets and then at his shoulders, clawing down his back. you needed to ground yourself, it was too much too fast, but you had nowhere to go, his body was pinning you down, your face buried in his chest. konig was suffocating you, chest hair tickled your face as you gasped, and he was knocking all the air out of your lungs with every merciless thrust. 

he was using your body like a flashlight, not a single regard for your pleasure or your life. it was exhilarating. only he could drag you to the edge of life and make you feel so much pleasure you forgot your name. 

“cum for me, schatz. need you to cum on my cock.”

you screamed into his chest, eyes screwed shut as waves and waves of rapture washed over you, dragging you in an undercurrent of euphoria and pure ecstasy. his lips stuttered at the feel of your cunt squeezing his cock, wringing a sudden orgasm out of him. konig roared, plunging into you with one final jab, cum pulsing out of him, painting your insides white. it burned your insides, a gasp grazing past your lips.

it was always so so so good with him. every. time. you were addicted. just as he was. now that he had a taste of what it was like to be restrained, you hoped he would want to do it again. although, you felt personally offended it didn’t last as long as you expected; he had broken free so easily, it was insulting. 

he huffed a laugh in your ear when he felt you pout. konig kissed every inch of skin he could reach whilst keeping his softening cock inside of you, a silent thank you for giving him more happiness and pleasure than he thought he deserved. 

“you need to tie it harder next time, ja, maus? make it more difficult for me.” 

damn right you’d make it more difficult for him. 

cocky austrian.

[soullessdianthus]

Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.  

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked. 

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir. 

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir. 

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together. 

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.  

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable. 

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want? 

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better. 

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you. 

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts! 

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe. 

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg. 

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

[hoeforhao]

RED AND CREAM ✨️🧨🎈🩸Wonwoo Oneshot

pairing : military official wonwoo × fem!reader

genre : pwp, pure smut

warnings : mention of blood, unprotected sex ( wrap it up guys ) , creampie, abusive talks, minors DNI

author's note : so umm I kind of wrote this smut for someone but then thought why not post it with wonwoo in mind. Bear with the he(s) pls.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

As he stood there looking at her with dark clouded eyes with his hair all messed up from the intense fight, blood dripping down his knuckles onto his black boots, she saw the devil in him. The devil staring at her, telling her that he has finally came for his daughter. That he has finally found his worthy offspring to spread his bloodied rays into the world.

Stepping close to him, she looks into his red burning eyes as if she's gonna light him up on fire that very moment, as if she's going to draw out those popping veins in his eyes with her red nails.

Pushing his legs apart with hers she stands between them with her black heels on while her hands take his fist in hers and gently swipe off the blood off of them with her fingers and put them into her craving mouth, gently sucking onto them as if giving him the temptation of how she would treat his dick so good yet so rough between her cavities.

All this time her knees move up and down his already tightening up crotch, sometimes pushing it a bit too hard earning muffled up moans from him. Because he's a man. He cannot show how weak and needy his woman is making him feel now. Being done with sucking off all of his enemy's blood and injecting it into her system, her hands now move upto his neck to hold it tight and firm in place while her lips curve up into a satanic smile.

She quickly brings her mouth up to the bone protruding so prominent out of his neck and instantly plants her teeth onto the skin, pulling it with her canines making tears swell up in his eyes from the intense sting.

"If you thought I'll let his blood infuse into kine and make me impure, you're so wrong honey. I'll make sure that yours takes control on his and completely overpowers him. I want to see you overpower each and every individual on the face of this planet and be at the very top" and with that she bites into his skin at animalistic force and draws out blood like a vampire feasting on its meal after ages. As if a blood thirsty demon got the first taste of vanilla sweet blood burning with rage finally on her lips, all the while he cannot touch her or do anything to her because he was pinned down.

But she very well knew that she would be overturned in a minute if he truly tried for it. Having had enough of his woman being a brat he finally engulfed her legs by his and pushed her down onto the floor. He stood tall before her, while she lay on the cold marble with a sinister smirk knowing quite well what was coming next.

Bending down to her level the very first instinct he had was to rip off ever piece of clothing from her body, making her completely naked infront of the beast that was now to feast on the vulnerable little prey infront of him. Having his legs placed on both sides of her shaking ones, he took her lips in his. And no it was not a gentle kiss at all. It was a hungry, desperate one. One to prove how he will always have the upper hand over her, how she will just be a playtoy under him.

While his teeth pulled onto her lower lips, popping the slender veins there making blood drip down the corner of her mouth, his hands played with her boobs. More appropriately abused them. His nails drew deep and sharp around her supple jiggly skin, leaving behind deep rooted tracks of his invasion onto her body and soul and mind.

Shifting from her lips, he now focuses on slapping the living shit out of her breasts, earning constant pleas of mercy from her, knowing that the undertone in them was nothing but her asking for more brutality.

When he's finally done abusing her chest, leaving it all red with his hand prints, as if something turns in him and he gently places his mouth on her nipples and suckles onto it like a child feeding on his mother. But oh well isn't his entire persona deceiving? While his mouth work like a complete gentleman around her mounds, his fingers find her throbbing clit and aggressively rubs it's like it's some sort of enemy he needs slain down.

Her eyes rolled from the intense pain and pleasure that her body was feeling at the same time. She licks off her own blood from her mouth and slightly pushes up her head as if to see what is happening to her bare body, only to find that it's a red hill down there. Every part of her skin is burning aflame. And in that very painful moment, he quickly unzips the tent in his pants and brings out his rock hard dick to now graze up and down her sloppy cunt.

Never giving her the pleasure to feel him inside her, while she claws out his toned back, he slaps the tip of his dick onto her throbbing pussy and sometimes teases her hole with it by pressing it a bit down and taking it out immediately. Not being able to take the torment anymore she takes things into her hand and harshly slaps him across the face.

That was his last string. How dare a bitch have the audacity to slap a man like him. And with that he presses himself in her in seconds without any warning, without giving her the time to even adjust to him.

"You wanted it so bad you whore hmm? How you like daddy's dick tearing up your walls into shreds now huh" he runts into her soft delicate hole like a complete animal gone feral, like a tiger getting a good meat after days.

He could see tears rolling down her eyes onto the floor from his intense thrusts, him completely ruining her pussy for the new few days so that she remembers he is who she belongs to, every inch of her body belongs to him and is only for him to ravish and eat and feast on.

With one more push down her cunt, he feels his high riding him as he releases all his anger, frustration into her, making his cum ooze out of her swelled up walls, mixed with some traces of blood from the intense abuse.

[lay-z]

🎄 Day 14 – A Christmas miracle

A continuation of 🌲 Day 6 – A Christmas tree disaster, which means it’s set in the same universe! 

Synopsis: The tension is palpable between you three after the kitchen incident, but you’re determined to fix it for their sake and yours. Perhaps some Christmas spirit will help. 

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader x John Soap MacTavish 

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; established poly!relationship; throuple; cussing; hurt/comfort; humour; domesticity; threesome; fluff

Word count: 2.2k 

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

@lov3-ly

They just won’t stop bickering.

Every little thing causes an argument, starting at who’s driving the truck. Johnny claims to know his way around and is the better driver, especially in the snow. Simon insists that he rented the truck, so he should be the one driving it. They make you chose, and you choose Johnny, because it makes the most sense, and Simon gets into the backseat, masking his sulking face with indifference. 

Once you get to a particularly pretty spot, offroad and untouched, where Nordmann firs grow, the trees who make the perfect Christmas trees, they first start arguing about which tree to cut until they ultimately ask you to choose again, which you hate to do, because you want to make the decision with them – which seems impossible at this point. When you do eventually decide on a pretty tree, deep green and two metres tall, Simon and Johnny argue about which axe to use. 

“Ye’re not carryin’ it right.” 

“How the fuck can ya carry a tree the wrong way, Johnny?!” 

You watch for another moment, vein throbbing hotly in your neck beneath your soft scarf as Simon picks the large tree up by its stump while Johnny carries it by the crown. The snow keeps falling peacefully around you and it could be so tranquil, freezing cold yet wonderful, but they just won’t cooperate like that.

“If you two don’t stop this goddamn bickering, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind!”  

Both men huff and grumble at your reprimand, breath puffing in clouds in the cold as they continue to shoot each other nasty glares as they heave the fir onto the truck bed. They stop talking to each other altogether and somehow that’s even worse. 

Sitting in the passenger seat, gnawing on your bottom lip anxiously and pissed off, Johnny reaches over, driving one handed while his other hand rests on your upper thigh, squeezing it gently. It makes you squirm and your pussy twitch in pleasure-pain; still sensitive from what you two had done but didn’t finish in the kitchen when Simon made you stop instead of join in – what you’d initially hoped for. 

Your panties are damp, completely soaked, and rubbing against your puffy folds as you shift in the passenger seat. You can feel Simon’s eyes burn into the back of your head and stare down Johnny’s hand on your leg, but the latter doesn’t mind as he rubs your thigh up and down. When you glance at Johnny, you can see his lips cracked into a small, impish smile, his crotch bulging with arousal, because he didn’t get to come earlier, either.  

Tease.  

You’re aware what he’s trying to do and it’s dangerous. Don’t poke the bear or it will snap. 

After they manage to put up the tree in the living room with little to no problems or arguing, you clean up after them; puddles of melted snow, scattered fir needles and large boot prints that lead from the front door to the living room. 

And then they leave you alone. Johnny disappears into the kitchen to store away the food and drink you’d brought up here before starting on dinner while Simon simply disappears again.  

Now it’s quiet in the rented cabin, way too quiet, so you put on some classical music on your phone, but it only adds to the somber atmosphere as you start decorating the Christmas tree with fairy lights and ornaments that you’d brought from home. The snowstorm has picked up again, too; icy winds howling outside while you can only daydream about being curled up on a thick fur carpet in front of the fireplace, sweating as you’re sandwiched between your massive boyfriends. 

A dreamy sigh escapes your lips as you take the last ornament out of its vintage box – a golden start that’s supposed to sit on the Christmas tree crown. 

Simon watches in silence as you decorate the tree by yourself, going by a particular strategy that he cannot figure out and yet the result looks put prettily put together.

It unlocks childhood memories that he though long erased from his memory; veiled visions of his late mother decorating a meek, little Christmas tree with homemade ornaments in their shitty flat in Manchester when he was but a wee lad, barely able to talk back then. She was always determined to give him and Tommy a piece of that holiday spirit, even though she was never able to afford any presents to put under the tree. And then, the vision turns rotten by the memory of his shithead father knocking the tree over and throwing it down the staircase in a fit of drunken rage.

Simon inhales sharply as his chest tightens with a mixture of raw anger and melancholy, and he swiftly blinks away those memories to focus on the present; focus on you, struggling to put the star on the tip of the tall tree. 

“Need any help with that?” 

You nearly pinch a nerve in your neck as you flinch, glancing over your shoulder as Simon saunters into the living room; hands stuffed in his pockets, broad shoulders slouched somewhat. 

As he comes to stand right behind you, he reaches out, then. One hand supporting your lower back as you keep stretching, standing on your tippy toes, while his other hand grabs the star from your hand gently. “Let me help ya.” He almost croons softly, as softly as he can with his gravelly voice, and you hold your breath as you gaze at his ruggedly handsome face while he places the last ornament on the tree’s crown. 

Then his strong arms come to wrap around you from behind, his nose nuzzling you lovingly behind your ear, “Looks nice. Good job, lovey.” 

His quiet praise goes straight to your heart, squeezes it tightly and makes your breath hitch as you keep peeking up at him subtly over your shoulder, watching the reflection of the fairy lights in his dark irises, turning them a molten bronze. Cupping your own palms over his rough hands resting on your stomach, you melt against his chest. 

“Thank you for putting the most important final touch to it, honey.” 

He hums against your neck, enjoying the silly pet name too much and places two chaste kisses below your earlobe that has your skin pebbling with goose flesh. “Never done that before, y’know,” he murmurs, kissing your neck again while one hand slips underneath the hem of your warm sweater, “Decorated a bloody Christmas tree or... even celebrated the bloody holiday properly.” 

“About time, then.” You retort, laughing through the pain you feel when his sad admission makes your heart squeeze and throb in your chest this time. “I wanna makes this special for us,” you say, turning around in his embrace to wrap your arms around his neck while both his hands slip beneath your sweater, tracing the curve of your spine.  

“I want this to become a tradition for the three of us. Y’know? Renting a cabin for the holidays and hide away for a few days to... relax and... enjoy each other,” you explain, eyes twinkling while your fingers play with the short hairs at the base of his neck. “Would you like that?” 

He nods slowly, sheepishly. A shudder runs down his spine as your nimble fingers run through his dark blond hair, though if he’s being true to himself, it’s more about what you’re telling and asking him that has him reeling and trembling internally. Building traditions together, all three of you. That includes him, too. Obviously. 

“I’m yours, too, yes?” He utters those words before he can stop himself and his eyes widen imperceptibly at the uncharacteristically needy tone of his deep voice, and he watches in horror as your brows furrow quizzically. “Ah–I mean–” 

You huff in amusement, brows relaxing again while your arms tighten around his neck to better convey the meaning of your next words, “Simon, you and Johnny are as much mine as I am yours, yes.” 

“Steamin’ Jesus! Can ye kiss already? I wanna see ‘sum tongue with it, aye?” 

You can practically feel Simon bristle as Johnny’s teasing tone of voice breaks the tender moment, though you can merely roll your eyes playfully as you peek around Simon’s broad shoulder. 

“Who’s the true voyeur here now, John?” 

Johnny chortles, completely unabashed as he leans against the wide, open frame that opens the living room up to the hallway. He’s grinning, cocksure as always, eyes shining brightly with mischief as he pushes himself off the frame to saunter towards you while Simon’s calloused fingers flex against your supple skin on your back as if he’s afraid you might move away. 

“I feel like we should pick up where we’ve left off earlier,” Johnny purrs, wiggling his thick eyebrows suggestively, “What say ye, Lt.? Wanna help me turn our bonnie lassie into a wee mess?” 

You brace yourself with bated breath for another argument, but Simon’s chest rumbles against yours as he regards Johnny with a softening gaze, and the curt nod he gives nearly has your knees buckling. 

Strong, calloused hands roll you over onto your back on the plush carpet, making you feel like a worshipped rag doll in the way they handle you, firmly yet carefully. Your vision is so hazy, you can barely tell who’s touching what right now. 

The living room reeks of sex; it’s stuffy and warm and you’ve never felt better, more at peace than ever. 

A pathetic moan is torn from your throat as Johnny sinks his fat cock back into your dripping cunt with an obscene squelch as Simon’s cum keeps mixing with his. He holds your legs open and up by the back of your knees as he kneels between them; dark hair sticking to his damp forehead as he grinds his hips slowly yet deeply, pushing his cock into your welcoming heat far enough to have his tip kiss your cervix, his girth stretching your velvety walls and having you arch your back into the sensations. 

“Tha’s it, hen, keep–ach, fuck–takin’ it like our good girl,” Johnny groans when you squeeze your core around him, sucking him in deeper until he must thrust more powerfully to even thrust at all. 

You reach out blindly for the other large man sprawled out on the carpet next to you. His broad, scarred chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath while your sweaty palm pats along his muscular arm, squeezing his bulging biceps with greedy need. 

“Si–Si–,” you whine and hiccup as Johnny keeps fucking your soppy cunt with deep, slow rolls of his hips. The big, blond man rumbles deep in his chest in return, answering your whinging calls as his head tilts to the side; dark, half-lidded eyes regarding you languidly.  

His mammoth hand reaches out to grasp your chin, thumb rubbing your lower lip to catch your drool and smear it over your burning skin while Johnny starts playing with your swollen clit, making your back arch and your lips part with a louder cry of pleasure. 

Simon slips his thumb into your mouth and pushes down on your tongue. “Need more, lovey?” He chuckles darkly as you suck on his meaty digit, eyes flickering up to Johnny, who laughs huskily. Simon’s cock twitches back to life, blood rushing and boiling in his veins as his pale skin keeps flushing. He pulls his thumb from your mouth, eyes crinkling with a smile as your tongue darts out to chase it. 

You lick your kiss-swollen lips as you nod, “Uh-huh.” 

“Insatiable wee thing,” Johnny groans, hips snapping to make your tits bounce and jiggle the way he loves watching. “Gonna milk us both dry.” 

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” Simon huffs and groans as he pushes himself up on his knees, “’m lookin’ forward to it and she is, too.”  

Even in your blissfully fucked out state, you want to retort something stupid and witty, but when Simon suddenly grabs Johnny by the back of his neck to pull him into a deep, passionate – and very first – kiss, you nearly loose the last shred of your sanity.  

You watch in awe and shameless desire as Johnny briefly tries to pull away from Simon, but the latter has an iron grip on his neck and then Johnny leans back in with a deep sigh, reciprocates the kiss with wild fervour as you watch from below. 

They make out sloppily, teetering on aggressive and looking like battered warriors in the warm, dim glowing lights of the Christmas tree. All teeth and tongues. It’s maddening. It’s your personal present and secret wish come true, a Christmas miracle. You catch the way Simon dominates Johnny and your pussy clenches and flutters around Johnny’s fat cock still nestled deeply inside your gummy walls. 

You reach down between your thighs, replacing Johnny’s hand with yours as you start flicking the pad of your index finger over your sensitive clit, chest heaving as you enjoy the way your lovers finally start bonding the way they should.

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER

simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words

summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.

cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾

❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞

Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you… 

“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”

URA. United Republic of Adal.

“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims. 

“Can’t divulge that information.”

Of course he couldn’t. Obviously. 

“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak. 

“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself. 

It was thrilling. 

“Lose the bra.” 

“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–

“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it. 

Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention. 

“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.” 

You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach. 

“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”

For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought. 

Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche. 

“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you. 

Like he was imagining fucking you. 

Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–” 

‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”

It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers. 

When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin. 

It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black. 

‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’ 

Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name. 

Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand. 

‘Yes sir x’ 

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[on-a-lucky-tide]

woke up out of a cold sweat to run to your inbox. Free spirited Omega Nik + upstanding, clean cut Alpha John who's so used to Omegas hiding their scents behind suppressants. Then he watches Nik fly through a dog fight with ease in the middle of one of his heats and has NO idea what do to with him.

Not that he thinks he needs some form of intervention, but how do you even court an Omega like Nik? Does he want to be courted?? What could Price get him when Nik already gets himself what ever he wants?? And that's when he notices, WAIT- is nik trying to court him??????

Nik goes into heat. Price wants to help.

cw: omegaverse; omega Nik, alpha Price.

Price had been quietly harbouring a romantic attachment to Nikolai for many years. It was difficult to pursue such a thing in their line of work and, if Price was honest with himself, he was too much of a coward. He had talked himself out of it by assessing the “risk”; losing Nikolai by fuckin’ up a romantic entanglement would do irreperable harm to the 141, Coalition and Allegiance in general. The reality was that losing Nikolai would fuck up Price more than anything else; the 141 would continue to tick over, but Price wasn’t sure he would.

It was far safer to exist in the liminal space of friendship and desire. Nik wasn’t stupid and Price was surprised he was permitting it to continue, but either way, they had settled into a comfortable friendship that often bordered on something else, but never progressed it into anything official. It was like they went through all the motions without actually… consummating it.

They regularly went out for dinner, sharing bottles of scotch late into the night. Nik bought Price expensive cigars and always ensured he had his most favoured kit on operations. Price made sure any stray arrest warrants or unwanted chatter swerved Nik when he could; he gifted Nik with a TF141 patch for his jacket one winter and something unspoken had shifted between them.

Nik went into heat while operating alongside Gaz in Khorramshahr. They had split into two teams with Price as the eyes in a central base of operations. Soap and Ghost had covered from a sniper’s nest on a nearby building, while Nik and Gaz had extracted the target from the military compound—a stolen laptop containing CIA codes for hundreds of covert operations. Laswell wasn’t sure how it had fallen into enemy hands, but she was pissed enough with her own to send in the 141 instead.

Unfortunately, the base hadn’t been empty. With Ghost’s help, they had managed to progress their way to the hanger they had already earmarked for a quick escape should the situation turn to shit. There were three Sea Cobras parked up. Liberated from occupying American forces over the border, no doubt.

Nik crooned gleefully through the Comms as they ran into the hanger. “Ona prekrasna.”

”Gaz, any luck?” Price asked, watching their flickering green outlines on the screen in front of him. Nik’s flickered as he climbed into the helo.

”Nik’s working on it.”

”Soap, got eyes?”

”Aye, sir. Ghost layin’ doon cover. Hostiles headin’ in from th’ east.”

”Spotted. Hurry it along, Nik. You’ve got minutes.”

“Pomurchi diya menya, kotonok,” Nik growled. Even through the Comms, the silky rumble of it did something to every alpha listening in. Price’s legs spread in his seat, arse lifting a little as his Carhartts became suddenly a little tighter at the crotch. He recognised that voice—that tone—on an omega. He’d had a handful of partners in his lifetime with only one progressing to the point there had been discussions about mating and marriage, but that soft, sultry purr could only mean one thing.

”Gaz, is Nik—?”

”Yeah, sir.”

”Stay focused, son.”

”I’m under control.”

”It is fine, captain,” Nik said, and Price heard the whine of rotary blades spinning up in the background. “We are good to go. Gaz, load up."

Price lifted his eyes from the screens and watched as their heli appeared over the rooftops. Nik spun her around to face the hanger and made sure that neither of the other two would be taking off with a quick burst of fire from the Sea Cobra’s 40mm grenade launcher. The plume of smoke and from the explosion that followed mushrooming high into the dull grey of the sky. Unfortunately, their escape was further complicated by a new arrival.

Price growled as another blip appeared on his radar. “Nik, you’ve got company. Westbound,” Price looked through the window as it came within naked eyeline, “Soap, you got visual on the pilot?”

”Negative, sir. Movin’ too quick, heavy armour.”

”Nik, ya gonna ‘ave t’ outfly it.” Price glanced back down at the monitors.

”Copy, captain.”

And Nik fuckin’ well did. Price knew of only one conflict where helicopters had been involved in dogfights—Iran-Iraq war—and Nik was flying one of the main participants. It might not be his Black Hawk, but Nik controlled that Sea Cobra around the sky like she was another appendage, turning her on a pence piece, with targeted bursts of turret fire whenever he secured an opening. It was quick, brutal, the rat-ta-ta of gunfire against concrete echoing over the buildings, and all Price could do was monitor incoming traffic.

It felt like a lifetime, but the reality was that the exchange was over in under ten minutes. The enemy helo went down when Nik took out its secondary rotary engine, and it spun out into a nearby building, sending a fireball outwards into the townsquare.

”Sitrep,” Price barked through the Comms.

“A few holes, but stable. Disengaging. Meet at rendezvous. Out.” Nik said, his voice somehow deeper than it had been before. Ghost and Soap provided their updates. All was fine. Mission success… so far. They still needed to get to safety.

Price packed up in record time, leaving no trace of his presence. He caught up with Soap on the exfil—an old Jeep with the keys in on the outskirts of the city—and drove off into the damn sunset. Price followed the Shatt Al Arab south to the Persian Gulf, where they picked up a light craft waiting for them with a member of Laswell’s team on board.

Their final destination was an American-owned cruise ship currently sitting stationary off the coast of Saudi Arabia. Laswell had co-opted their ‘service’, citing it as an issue of ‘national security’. It was a little more covert than having an aircraft carrier lurking in the gulf following an incursion into Iranian territory. Risky though, involving civilians at any stage of the operation. Price hadn’t been particularly happy with the arrangement.

By the time they arrived, it was late, with several floors of loud, drunk parties currently in full swing, but Price was unable to settle.

He needed to see Nikolai.

Once Laswell had been debriefed via satellite phone, and he’d caught up with the rest of the 141 to check on injuries—none but for a few of the usual scrapes and bruises—Price returned to the small room on the ship he’d been assigned to scrub himself clean. Nik was a few floors up. He’d booked himself something a little plusher for the occasion, because of course he fucking had. As the cruise ship sailed onwards, heading towards Dubai where they were due to pick up a flight home, Price took the stairs two at a time.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. For some reason, he stopped off at the hotel bar and bought an exorbitantly expensive bottle of vodka and two only moderately less eye-wateringly expensive cigars. Was he expecting to court Nikolai on an accelerated time scale with cigars and bloody vodka?

How did someone even begin to court an omega like Nik? He could have anything and everything he wanted at the snap of his fingers and the flash of some plastic. Why was Price even considering it now? He had never seen Nik in heat. Not in their twenty-or-so years of friendship. Sure, he had smelled pre-heat on him, knew Nik’s scent well, and had often been comforted by it in the past.

Nik didn’t use suppressants. He never had. His secondary sex was a point of pride and Price had always liked how it seemed to calm the 141 when he was around; Ghost’s shoulders relaxed, Soap’s hyperactive energy calmed and Gaz found an outlet for his affectionate nature.

They hugged him, scented him, and often fell asleep around him when the operation was over. Price too always felt less stressed, less… like the world was about to explode at any minute. Nik had adopted them as his. That was no secret. Why else would he fly into danger to rescue them at a moment’s notice? An omega would tear the world apart to defend their pack.

His mind was buzzing with all this when he arrived outside Nikolai’s door, his knuckles white around the bottle of vodka in his hands. There was a way to do these things. His old man, for all his sins, had certainly beaten that into Price for the day dot. He definitely hadn’t had a man like Nikolai in mind for his runty, underfed alpha son though. The thought of his face now would have been amusing if Price’s heart wasn’t currently sitting in his throat, trying to suffocate him.

He managed to extract one clammy palm from the vodka bottle and knocked. There was the sound of shuffling from the inside, the slide of the lock, and the door swung open. The sweet, overpowering scent of heat hit Price full in the face and, if that wasn’t enough to make him weak at the knees, the sight of Nik certainly finished him off.

Nik leaned against the doorframe, his head tilted against his forearm as it slanted across it, cigarette dangling from his broad mouth. His hair was ruffled, more curls forming around his ears and neck than his usual regime of gel would allow. Price’s eyes raked down the length of him, his full tits with their dark pelt of fur, his dusky nipples peaked and hard, his solid core revealing the hint of definition every time he drew in a deep breath, the elastic of the sweats he’d pulled on clinging to his hips, the v-slant of muscle disappearing beneath the line of fleece along with the thick happy trail of hair down his belly, begging for Price’s mouth to follow their lead.

”My eyes are up here, captain,” Nik said softly, lips tilted in a wry smirk. He took his cigarette from his mouth and placed his other arm high up on the door frame. Posed like this, even so nonchalant, he struck an imposing sight, spread out, so bloody confident, but with his armpits, the sides of his tits, the curve of his waist, all exposed, begging for an alpha’s hands just to—

“Nik, I…” Price’s eyes snapped up as he spoke, his voice cloying in his throat. Every breath he drew in fogged his brain with scent. He needed to behave his-bloody-self. With a restrained cough, Price offered out the bottle. “I brought ya some vodka t’ see ya through.”

”I have vodka, John,” Nik said dryly. Tilting his head back and up to take a drag of his cigarette without having to drop his arm, and it only served to show off the slope of his neck and throat, completely unblemished, his glands just below the skin.

“Ah, yeah, ‘course you do,” Price croaked, his eyes lingering on the spot where he knew Nik’s gland would be. His mouth watered. “That was… some amazing flyin’, with the… the Sea Cobra.”

”Mmm,” Nik groaned, flexing his back, rolling his shoulders. A subtle wave of cramp. “The Hinds were better armed, but the AH1 is a more agile aircraft… it took down a Mig 21 during the Gulf War.” He watched Price with dark eyes as he spoke, scrutinising his face and, slowly, the rest of his body. Price knew he was being sized up and felt his shoulder square despite knowing he was being bloody stupid. “Why are you here, John?”

”I…” Price swallowed. “I want t’ help, Nik. An’… uh… I wanna do this right, I—“

If any of the 141 had heard the yelp that followed Nik’s gruff “finally” as he took the front of Price’s belt and dragged him into the room, Price would have silenced them under threat of a damn court martial, because it was the most undignified sound he’d ever made. The bottle of vodka thumped on the carpeted floor as Nik shoved him into the room and the door clicked shut. The cigars followed, because Price’s hands were soon occupied by Nik’s chest as Nik closed in.

[konigsblog]

ghost and bootriding 😌💕

- 🔪💕

definitely something simon would enjoy. :3

he needs to be in control and demand orders from the recruitment, to test your patience, to test your understanding and where you belong next to him. he needs to see you obey his every command, like a learning mutt, eager and zealous to know more, to do the best you possibly can. he enjoys the filthy and messy sight of you with puffy eyes and swollen lips, a string of spit mixed with his hot, thick cum dripping from your lips as you drool over his leaking shaft.

simon's gloved and large hands grasp at yours as you rest your hand against his muscular, large thigh. he can feel the weight of you shift with every thrust and slow, sloppy movement, as you roll and rock your hips through pleasure and greediness, dragging your slicken pussy back and forth as your juices drip and smear along his military issued boots.

simon cocks his head to the side tauntingly, a grin evident on his stupid face. the bottom of his balaclava is lifted enough where his mouth is visible as a cigarette hangs between his pearly teeth. the thick, grey clouds of smoke around the room from his cigarette cause you to scrunch your face up at the familiar scent of nicotine and tobacco, your eyes beginning to water as your stomach begins tightening at the sensation running down inside of you, causing your arousal to drip all down your soft thighs.

he'll have you whisper and chant his name through breathless and choken cries and desperate moans, your clit sensitive as you grind yourself against his black, hard boots, whimpering as you bury and nuzzle your face in his hard crotch, hips jerking and shaking with your craved orgasm. :(

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT PRICE AND PREFERRING SITTING ON HIS LAP OFTEN.

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive, established relationship, lap sitting, flirty teasing, pet names, touching, intimacy, kinda cuddling, male anatomy, hard on, hints on blowjob, desperation and horny price, reader doesn't have gender description in the story, john might be ooc since he's wearing a glasses. pairing: bf john price x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

there was something in john’s thighs that attracted you every time, like an affectionate yard kitten, to the lap of a passing person.

of course, the point is not at all in how attractive his muscular, wide thighs look in his military cargo pants or jeans, in which the second only further emphasizes how wide and soft his thighs are, and his light home shorts reveal them fully every time, making them even plusher, exposing dark thick hair hiding a scattering of healed scars underneath.

a great place to sit down.

therefore, you can never resist climbing onto the limp muscles, just at the moment when he smokes his usual cigars on the viranda, thick clouds of smoke dissolve with a tart smell around his figure when he holds a half open book with his free hand, glasses on the tip of his nose, not a necessary necessity, but convenient in order to preserve his eyesight, slightly weakened with age and military service.

john feels your presence almost immediately, as soon as the door opens slightly, albeit almost silently, but he clings to the slight shuffling of steps, and intuitively raises his hand with the book just when you fall into his arms, plopping your butt right on his rounded thighs, feeling how the muscles beneath you tense before relaxing, and a heavy hand traces the curve of your hip and waist, thick fingers tenderly squeezing the skin over the fabric of your light clothing.

— “feeling comfy, sweetheart?„

he purrs with a hint of hoarseness and a chesty, amusing grumble, blowing thick smoke through his nose and rings through his lips, letting the smoke rise up from his mustache and dissolve in the light breeze, blue eyes narrow as he examines you, familiarly running a warm palm along your leg and to the hip bone, tracking your satisfied purr with a smirk on his lips, corners of his lips hiding under facial hair.

— “very much so„

you answer sincerely and satisfactorily, settling on his lap with a slight fidgeting of your butt on his thighs, pressing against his wide chest with comfort and fluttering eyelashes, when you look into his blue eyes, cold in color, but so warm when he looks at you, despite at your sly squint and the way you move soft touches over his chest and to his thighs, outlining the skin with your fingers, as if planning something.

and john will know what excatly very soon, when you'll imposingly rise from your usual comfortable place only to kneel in front of him, settling between his already spread legs, not looking at the slight discomfort in his knees from the wooden surface of the veranda, completely concentrating on his darting gaze and slightly nervous swallowing when you place soft palms on his thighs and move them, causing his hairs to stand on end while your face getting closer.

he rolls his head back with a slight chesty growl and a scratch of his beard when you, so charmingly cunning, nose yourself between his legs, poking into his wide thigh and very close to his crotch, where under shorts and boxers swells and throbs from your mere presence next to him and a reverent gesture in his direction, holding him on the edge almost all the time, and now only further inflaming the feelings seething inside him.

a heavy hand rests right on the top of your head to gently stroke your hair, lightly scratching and moving towards your face, cupping with one palm and gently tickling the skin near your ears with the callous pads of his fingers, while you lean towards the touch, catching notes of tart tobacco and light woodiness, a characteristic, relaxing aroma, and he sees how your facial features soften into absolute limpness, lazily fluttering your eyelashes and causing a slight chuckle in your direction.

— “looking adorable down there, darling, hope you're enjoying this position, eh?„

he earns a meek nod and an almost sleepy — “mhhmm„ in his direction, before you press yourself tighter, not into his palm, but into the skin of his leg, creeping further, closer to his crotch, and john fidgets slightly uncomfortably, not from your actions, but from not wanting you to notice his obvious arousal, although this is pretty noticeable in the dark pupils enveloping the blue of his eyes and in the way his eyelids become heavy, his eyelashes cast a shadow over his eyes, and the bulging silhouette of his cock enthusiastically rubs against the fabric of his shorts and press into the barrier.

you will definitely repay him in full later, but for now you will remain a little longer in the same place, where his legs themselves slightly squeeze together, squeezing you slightly between them, rolling pleasant sensations across your skin, and you lick your lips, not immediately registering his strangled, breathy sigh in response to your actions and how much tighter you are pressed against him, your parted lips practically where he burns and demands, but he waits, patiently, until then he allows a quietly grumbled word to slip from his lips — “killing me, all looking like that, shi'..„ before john takes another drag from his almost finished cigar, calming himself, as you smile to yourself in response to his words.

you will definitely take care of him, just a little later, promise, john.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce.

The feeling of rough fingers grazing against your clothed thigh is not uncommon, not when seated next to Lt. Riley. His precious plaything, his best kept secret, he is always trying to steal little moments any chance he can get and tonight’s no exception, even if it is risky. Fuck, that heightens the need for him to prove he isn’t afraid to jeopardize everything just to make sure he keeps his pretty little thing at his mercy.

The bar is busy, crowded with loud, inebriated people there to drink and have fun. You find yourself sitting around a group of tables that have been pushed together to fit everyone in the taskforce from Captain Price to the newest recruits around. Everyone is in a good mood even being squashed in tight together, all going about laughing and drinking away as they enjoy a well-deserved night of freedom, none the wiser as to what is beginning to happen right under their noses just below the tabletop. 

And neither do you, not yet.

Simon keeps his hand firmly on you, letting it rest there possessively on your thigh as he lifts his mask from time to time to take sips off his glass of bourbon, massaging the muscle for a while as he listens at the edge of the conversations going on around that you are also barely paying attention to. Round two and then three happen the same as before until there is a shift in that burly military man’s demeanor.

Those fingers that had been content to lay on your lap start to wander, fueled by the liquor flowing through his veins, making rational thought fly away, and soon you can feel his hand moving upward and inching itself closer to the waistband of your pants. There is a sudden warmth at the side of your head as you take another swig from your drink, letting the liquid spirits run down the back of your throat like fire as you keep your eyes forward. 

“Open your legs,” the gravelly, heavily accented voice at your elbow growls in a hushed whisper into your ear through the smoke of his cigarette perched between his fingers. Simon reaches the top of your pants with the opposite hand and slips his fingers between the fabric and your balmy skin. 

He has to be ever so slow or risk the movement of his arm giving him away to anyone who happens to pay enough attention in that moment as he carefully undoes the button of your jeans and slowly lowers the zipper all the way down until it stops. Risking a glance up into his face, you are met with a devilish smirk that makes your heart skip a beat and instantly lets you know you are in deep fucking shit now; he’s in the mood to play. 

“Really?” you whisper back as you hold your drink to your lips to keep up the act, cheeks flushing fiery hot and not from the alcohol. Discreetly you try squeezing your legs together slightly, having just a bit of sense left to know that he should stop, you could get caught red handed, but at the same time not really wanting him to. “Not here. Wait till later; we’ll have fun when we get back.”

“Yes, here. Open. Your. Legs.” he repeats more firmly this second time as his hand slips inside the opening he’s created and right down between your thighs to pry them apart with the width of his hand. “Need ta feel ya, pretty girl.”

The alcohol heightens that feeling of giddy excitement, the rush and euphoria of doing something so insanely risky, and as you look around at the distracted faces at the table you can’t resist, not when his hand is already inside your pants. You move in your seat so that you can open your legs as wide as you can without it looking strange.  

Even with the imminent threat of detection growing by the second, there is no stopping him as Simon’s tough, calloused fingers search around until they locate the crotch of your panties and lace themselves through the seam, pulling them to the side until your pussy is exposed to his hand. There is a subtle heat that hits his fingertips, inviting him in further now that there is nothing to block it and he can feel his cock throb as it hits his hand. You swallow hard, breathing heavily out of your nose to help calm yourself as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly moaning at that first contact.

Another calm drag off his cig and he side-eyes you as he parts through your petals to slip a finger inside near the source of the heat against your clit and begins to stroke that sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, concise circles. So soft, so warm, nothing has ever felt more amazing. His head is buzzing and grows more hazy with each flick of his finger through the gathering dampness between your legs. All that delicious frictions at the tips of his fingers, fuck was he in it now.

You aren’t fairing much better, that fog rolling through your head, the minutes ticking away as that ecstasy gathers in the pit of your stomach. Soon you can barely see straight and you crave to do more. Setting your glass down, you let one of your arms rest on top of the table to create more shadow over your lap, but the other hand wants to get in on the action too. 

You lower it below the table and reach out towards him, wanting to rub him over his jeans, feel his cock pulse against the palm, but he stops you before you can even get over the bulk of his wide thigh. His cigarette dangles from his lips as his hand shoots down and grips tightly around your wrist to keep you from going further, his finger on your clit stopping and resting there a moment.  

“Keep those greedy hands to yourself,” he breathes near your ear as he pretends to look over his shoulder at something on the other side of the bar. “Ya don’t want me to stop, do ya sweetheart? Cause if ya can’t fuckin’ behave I’m gonna have to. Can’t have anyone gettin’ suspicious and endin’ my fun early.”

“No,” you snap back quickly, breathing in and out to calm the thudding in your chest, desperately needing him to continue. “Keep going. Please.”

He releases your hand back to you and you keep it on the tabletop next to the other to hinder yourself from trying to touch him again; you need him to keep going. Satisfied, the rubbing along your clit picks back up to that steady rhythm that it was before. Little beads of sweat speckle across your forehead as your body heats from the inside out the more his finger draws around that sensitive bundle; so depraved, yet absolutely perfect. 

Through puffs of smoke, brown eyes constantly sneak hungry glances as he enjoys every single fucking second of watching you simultaneously fall apart and try to keep it all together all at once. You pick up your drink a few times, pretending to take sips from it, but the way your mouth hangs open as you pant behind the glass he knows it’s all for show.

His jeans are growing tighter as his cock strains against the zipper, throbbing with each beat of his pulse as it races. Your thighs keep squeezing together to trap him against your now swollen clit; the ache is so bad you can hardly stand it. No one has ever looked better a complete and utter mess and Simon is determined to keep you in a constant state of euphoria, especially if he gets to appreciate all that beauty. 

“Move back, wanna get deeper,” he orders.

Subtly you adjust yourself in your seat, leaning back ever so slightly, and spreading your thighs open just enough that that large hand can fit further between them. Your eyes clock those around the table without you moving your head, but everyone still seems to not notice. His fingers move back from your clit towards your entrance and without warning two thick, bulky fingers spread you open as he shoves them up inside your wet cunt. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping around the digits just as he hoped to suck him in.

You clear your throat to mask the moan desperately trying to escape at the feeling of those warm fingers of his filling you up. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t want ya to pass out,” Simon chuckles under his breath as he curls in fingers inside you. “That’s a good girl. Christ, ya feel good tonight, baby. I can feel you taking in my fingers like it’s nothing.” 

Fuck do you want to grind your hips into his hand, but there’s no way in hell you can hide something like that, not with everyone sitting so close. You’re nearly vibrating in your seat trying to keep still as the sensation of his fingers stretching out your already overstimulated body consumes your every thought. Simon uses his wrist to help snap his fingers up into you faster and faster without causing him to move his arm.

“Goddamit,” you groan in a breathy whisper as he pounds up into you.

Shivers run up and down your spine as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements. The blaring rock music blasting over the speakers keeps the time with the pulsing of your walls the harder he works. At one point you shove your pelvis down into his hand to make as much contact with him as possible, body feverish to the touch. You need more, you need it all, you need him to make you come.

“Please, please,” you whimper almost silently, begging for something that is already being given to you. There is no way he is going to stop; he needs you to come for him now as much as you need him to do it.

“Look at ya takin’ it so fuckin’ well, cheeks all flushed,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Don’t even fuckin’ care ‘bout anything other than keepin’ me happy.” 

Minute after minute, his full attention is focused solely on you, each stroke drawing you increasingly nearer to that razor’s edge and threatening to violently throw you off. Your toes are curling against the soles inside your shoes as you push your feet into the flooring. Goddammit, he is insatiable, but when it comes to you there is nothing else he can be.

The dampness is now covering his fingers and dripping down onto the back of his hand and sticking to the inside of your thighs. Your walls are fluttering something fierce around his fingers, swelling and engorged. He knows you’re close and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. No single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than making you fall apart completely. 

Simon compromises giving this little ruse away by leaning in against your ear; he needs you to hear this fucking well. “Come on, pretty thing, finish for me. Come on my fingers.”

This is the point of no return. Those fucking words are all you need to let go.

Suddenly, like a wave washing over you, that warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge. You clamp your mouth shut hard, biting your tongue until you taste copper to stop from crying out, but it's not enough. You mewl in your throat and it is loud enough that even Simon reacts to the sound. 

“Shh, shhh,” he coaxes gently as his fingers slow down until they finally come to a stop. “Ya did so well for me sweetheart. Just breathe. I gotcha.”

Quickly you bring your drink back up to your lips and fake a cough to try and cover the noise as you steady your body that wants nothing more than to writhe as you ride out your ecstasy. Unfortunately, the sound catches a few eyes, though they quickly turn back away after only a second, all except one. It is the Scottish sergeant sitting directly across the table from you both that speaks up about it.

“Ya alright there lass?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow as he turns his attention to you curiously.

You clear your throat, pretending to accidentally choke on your drink. “Yeah, fine, just went down wrong,” you stammer out in your calmest tone, hoping he buys the lie long enough to go back to what he is doing. Your face is on fire, cheeks flushed warm as Simon’s fingers still rest inside your pussy, your walls still pulsing against them. Maybe you can pass the heat in your face off as a product of the liquor, but something in the sergeant's skeptical lingering gaze makes you not so certain if he’s buying it at all.

“Ya sure there?” he questions again.

You nod, trying not to fully meet his eyes as you come up with your next lie when a pretty thing from across the bar who has been eyeing the sergeant all night walks up out of nowhere and taps him on the shoulder, pulling him directly from this conversation before it gets any more awkward and you feel like you can relax fully again.

Licking your lips, you turned your attention back to Simon who is eating up every last second of you almost being caught with his hand in your pants. Those auburn eyes are giving you sideways glances as he raises his glass to finish off the last of his drink, removing his fingers achingly slow, wiping them against the crotch of your panties to remove your juices, all with a subtle smirk that dances at the corner of his mouth. You wait till he’s done and sits back fully in his seat with the glass back on the table before you dig your fingers into the bulk of his thigh. 

“Restroom.” you demand and immediately get yourself in order so that you can get up from the table. “Now.”

He knows what you want and he’s ready to accept the consequences of his actions. There is no way you are waiting until later to continue this. Simon wanted to start this here, it’s going to have to be finished here. He gives you a headstart before following right behind, slipping through the crowd as quickly as he can without being detected; there is a tenting at the crotch of his pants that is hard to hide properly.

You are waiting for him just on the other side of the restroom door so that before he can fully get in you are already on him, ripping his mask up and off his head with greedy hands so that your hot, aching lips can desperately meet for the first time tonight. A tangled mess of limbs intertwined and bodies molded into one another he pulls you into the nearest stall and slams the door shut, locking it without ever removing his mouth from your own. God, if these walls could talk they’d have so many salacious stories to tell about you two sneaking away here to screw each other. 

Feverish hands are ripping off clothing at breakneck speeds as flesh begs to connect with flesh. It’s like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline; the moment you two get started, it’s hard to stop without at least parts of you getting naked.

His cock-hungry slag, your pussy-ravenous superior; it is a match made in erotic heaven.

“Finish what you started, you bastard,” you plead agitatedly.

His lips upturn against your mouth. “Ya don’t even have to fuckin’ ask, sweetheart,” he replies as he shoves your jeans off your hips while taking your soaked panties with them, pushing them onto the floor before picking you up so you have to wrap you legs around his waist, followed by a bang from your back hitting the stall wall.

[andre-and-cal]

freaky headcanons now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 Caldre Headcanons :3

GUYS LMK IF YOU WANT TOP CAL & BOTTOM ANDRE HEADCANONS NEXT cuz I have sm ideas for those but I’m too shy to do it without an ask ngl so Plsplspls lmk !! 🙏🙏

These were long overdue I’m sawry I’m a #slacker… more headcanons coming soon heh zeroplan I see yew…

But uhHh here r my headcanons yippee I wanna incorporate these into my fics >_<

Top Andre, Bottom Cal

Andre has a habit of slapping a hand over Cal’s mouth and muffling his moans, especially when he’s doing him from behind in a risky environment. He’ll have one hand on his mouth, and the other on his crotch, whispering “Shhh, shhhh, shut the fuck up,” in his ear while pounding into him relentlessly. It gives Andre a rush whenever he hears Cal’s noises get all muffled against the palm of his hand, and to feel the moisture of his lips pressing against his skin and Cal’s hot, wet, shaky breaths of air fanning into his hand.

Calvin secretly used to fingerfuck himself and imagine that it was Andre’s fingers. Whenever he’d smuggle porno tapes at the store— gay porno— he’d slip a finger or two inside his ass and envision Andre in between his legs and doing it for him. But the first time he decided to start exploring himself in this way, when he went knuckles deep and finally found his prostate, he came quick, and he experienced a high he never knew was possible. He used to be too embarrassed to admit that he did this, but he no longer needs to because he has Andre to finger him or fuck him instead, just as he’d hoped.

Andre was very careful the first time he and Cal had sex, when he took Cal’s virginity. He didn’t want to hurt him, and he was constantly asking him if he was okay. Their first time was slow, but they both savored every moment of it. Andre secretly likes when Cal wants him to go slow, because it gives him a chance to explore Calvin’s body. Calvin goes insane— in a good way, of course— whenever he feels those hands caressing his hips or feeling up his sides and waist and his body as a whole. Calvin feels appreciated and pretty, while not feeling shameful over that fact anymore.

Calvin’s favorite position is doggy style. He really loves the feeling of Andre shoving his face into his pillows, ‘cause Cal always imagines him as like some sergeant in the army, even while feeling his cock sliding in and out of his tightness. Cal will force Andre to wear his dog tag along with him so that it feels more… “army-like” in Cal’s words. Andre makes fun of him for describing it that way though. While he’s into the military as much as Cal is, he doesn’t really show it all too much for fear his parents will get suspicious of their Zero Day plans, so he forces Cal to tone it down as well.

Andre allows himself to be vulnerable around Calvin. But only really when Cal’s asleep, drunk, or high, at least. During aftercare, sometimes when Cal’s half-asleep and drifting off into slumberland, Andre will mumble into Cal’s shoulder— if he’s spooning him that time— about how he’s gonna miss him if push comes to shove with Zero Day. It’s a brief, rare moment of “weakness” for Andre, but he does like to speak fondly of Cal whenever they’re alone together, where no one can disturb them or anything. Now, going back to my point, Andre never knew that they were going to be shooting themselves together on Zero Day rather than going through with the initial plans. Rather, he fully expected them to be able to go through with the plans of escaping in his car, but a tiny part of him knew they were gonna be dead no matter what happened. He never liked to admit this to himself though, remaining in denial about the recklessness of the whole “getaway” thing. Either way, he half-hopes that Cal hears and knows that he’ll always love him, no matter what happens with Zero Day. And on Zero Day, prior to ending his life alongside Calvin after the shooting, his last coherent thought was along the lines of how he was going to try to find Cal in the afterlife— or whatever place they both would end up roaming together.

Occasionally, even while Andre’s shoving his shaft balls deep inside his ass— Cal will find the opportunity to piss him off, even through his little whimpers. He’s just like that; Cal’s middle name is practically Sarcastic. His witty nature will piss Andre off sometimes too— especially if it’s a situation where Andre clearly isn’t fucking laughing. While it does prompt him to grow rough with Cal, it turns on the both of them, because they both know Cal only does it to— well, demand without actually demanding for Andre to fuck him harder. Whenever Calvin does say some smartass shit during sex, Andre will go as far as to strangling Cal— especially while they’re doing missionary. It’s easy access to his neck anyway, and also that familiar deep, dark part of Andre gets really turned on by the feeling of Cal’s pulse drumming underneath his fingers. With this, it also helped Andre coin the nickname “punk” and various other insults in German— for Cal.

Calvin is a bit of a risk-taker and has begged Andre to load Milena and have him blow her— loaded. Eventually, after begging one too many times, Andre finally agreed. The day he agreed, Andre made it seem like they were going out to simply shoot guns together to practice for Zero Day, but as soon as he unpacked Milena from his father’s closet as Cal kept on going on about sucking on Milena, he instead turned around and shoved the barrel so far into Calvin’s mouth that it nearly hit his tonsils. And eventually, it did. He’d nudged Cal to the ground with the gun, kneeling over him as he forced him to take the barrel deep in his throat, even when it got too much for Cal and he tried to push on his chest to get him off. Andre didn’t stop until he’d pulled out his own cock from his jeans and jerked himself off, cumming all over Cal’s face and lips. Despite Calvin’s initial resistance as he began to choke on the barrel, he quickly grew hard, so he got himself off shortly after Andre released his load onto his pretty face.

Initially, Andre also felt off-put at the idea of dirty talking, even going on to dislike it. He was determined to stay quiet or hold back any noises and grunts he might make while planning his first time with Cal, a little after they’d started dating. But every time he noticed the drastic increase in the little noises Cal made whenever Andre muttered the occasional, “Shit, mein Schatz— so tight,” ,, “You like that, yeah?” ,, or something of the sort in German, he became more confident to speak like this to Calvin when they’re alone. After developing more of his “dirty-talking skills”, he got into the habit of praising Cal during sex. He goes from genuinely praising him for taking his cock or his fingers up his ass or when he’s fucking the back of Cal’s throat with his member, and then going to tauntingly praising him for being a “big brave boy” whenever Andre’s spanking him or making him take his gun in his mouth.

Whenever Cal and Andre are arguing and it gets real heated and loud between them, if Cal initiates mildly hostile physical contact— such as with pushing, shoving, yelling, or getting all up in Andre’s face, Andre will bounce it right back to him. Andre struggles with his anger a bit more-so than Cal in some ways— so one day he snapped and shoved Cal, to the point where he fell back into his bookcase. Calvin was a little stunned by Andre’s outward expression of aggression toward him, but as soon as he felt a heat coiling in his groin— he knew he wanted more, so he continued taunting Andre until he was ultimately… well— grabbed by the arm and yanked onto the bed. And then things led to another.

Andre never really imagined that he’d be into spanking Cal, but it all begun on a day when they were home alone at Andre’s together, with Cal sitting beside Andre while he played Grand Theft Auto 2 on his PS2. Mel was curled up in Cal’s lap, but eventually got off. After that, Calvin continuously inched closer until he was leaning on Andre’s shoulder, clinging onto his arm. He then began to gently kiss his neck, up to the patch of skin behind his ear, and then to his cheek and jawline. After around a minute of this, with Cal kissing up on him and trying to get him to notice or pay attention to him, Andre got a little fed up, so he gently pushed Cal’s face down into his lap. He pulled Calvin’s pants down and found himself— in the heat of the moment— spanking his backside, ignoring Cal’s yelps and cries due to the repeated stinging pain. Afterward, Cal’s face was all wet with tears and his ass cheeks were bright red. At the sight, Andre felt a little guilty at first, but when he looked down toward Cal’s boxers, he noticed that he fucking came untouched from Andre spanking him alone, so he grabbed Cal by his “pretty boy blond locks” and forced him to look up at him, before leaning down and smothering a kiss onto Cal’s lips.

Calvin, on Andre’s lap, riding him while Andre holds one of his arms and licks along the scars and scabs he has trailing up his forearm. Bucking his hips up into Cal’s rear end, rubbing the head of his cock against his prostate, and encouraging him to keep cutting himself and to engrave his name into his arm, so that people can identify him as having Andre’s name on his arm for when Zero Day arrives. That’s all I need to say. :3

[sideeve]

ARKHAM KNIGHT THOUGHT

the lock pick in your hand fumbles and falls out of your palm as you crouch in front of the last door until you saw freedom. "what are you doing, little bunny?" you freeze, your whole body suddenly not being able to move.

the heavy footsteps creep up on you. "i know my little bunny didn't want to leave me, did she?" he stops behind you. you slowly turn around, worried as you see a mini group of militia behind him. the arkham knight eyes the lockpick by your feet before picking it up, twirling it around in his fingers as he examines it.

"where did you get this, bunny?" he turns his head to you, his mask concealing his face. "answer me!" "i-i found it in one of the vents." you stutter. "one of my past bunnies must've left it." he pushes it in one of his many pockets, his attention on you again. "i'm feeling generous. don't disobey me again and we'll have a good day." he pulls you onto your feet again by your chin, his gloved index finger curled under your head.

"i have a meeting soon. i don't trust you to be on your own so you're coming with me." you looked down at your attire. you were wearing a red and black oversized sweater with some black socks. you weren't ready for a meeting. "i-i'm not wearing any good clothes." 'it'll do." he yanks you by your arm close to him.

"do we understand the basis of the mission?" the arkham knight's booming voice sounds throughout the whole room. the militia's eyes were all on you. the arkham knight was known for making abrupt decisions but him bringing you was unpredictable.

your plump ass was fit perfectly on his crotch. every time you tried to adjust your bare thighs on his rough military pants, you could feel his cock hardening. "i'm tired of you teasing me." he seethes in your ear before lifting the bottom of your sweater up to your waist. you hated that he never provided you with underwear. you were always walking around the quarters without any panties. but he loved it. he could take you whenever-wherever and no one could say anything.

he didn't care of how obvious he was being with you. he was so quick to pull out his cock from his fly before bending you over, plunging in you. "you see this?" he chuckles as he hears you whine. "this little bunny has tried to escape. we don't want that. do we, boys?" the room fills with 'no's. the arkham knight grips your waist as you grip his arms, needing to hold something as he abused your cunt in front of his soldiers.

"she's mine. if any of you touch her-shit!" he groans, throwing his head back as he slaps your ass. " you're 's fucking tight." he laughs before continuing his sentence. "if any of you touch her without my permission, i'll kill you." he pulls his gun from his side holder, pointing it around the room.

then his attention averts back to you. he would never admit to anyone but he's growing fond of you. every time he took you, he secretly took notes of what sent shivers down your spine, what made your walls flutter around his length. he yearned to make you feel good during intimate acts. so for you leave him after falling for you left a sick taste in his mouth. "say you love me." he begins to thrust harder. "you're-" he seethes, "you're all dismissed." he had taken notice of his men palming themselves at the sight of him taking you apart.

the men beeline out of the meeting room. most likely rushing to their bunkers to relieve themselves, storing this moment in their spank bank. "say it." his mask was now fully off, the 'J' scar saying hello to you. "i love you..." you moan. you felt a ring of arousal around the base of his cock as you both release, streams of hot white cum painting your walls. "kiss me." he pants. he couldn't get enough of you. he was insatiable.

he shoves his tongue down your mouth, the tip of his tongue not letting any part of your mouth be undiscovered. "you're not leaving me. i'm making sure of it." he pants, putting your cheek as he sees you drift off. "understand me?" you nod, your eyelids heavy. "good. 'cause fucking love you." he huffs, rubbing your ass before pulling out.

[crispy0nion]

honest to god if i was some random military hunk working for the most famous woman in the galaxy and wanted to bang her so bad and then one day i went at the club and just so happened to run into my sexy boss and her alien best friend dancing and rubbing crotches and shit and then my boss - who called out my shitty flirting on different occasions btw - went out of her way to end a dance move right in my face to provoke me and then was pulled back in by her alien boytoy and then when they were done dancing they started talking about banging i think i'd just start working on my two weeks' notice oh my god