wingedjellyfishflight

[wingedjellyfishflight]

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

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

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

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

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

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

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

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

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

— Ah…your father is at home? 

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

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

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

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

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

An apathetic dad, huh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scheisse

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

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

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

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

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

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

— Ja. You can have it. 

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

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

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

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

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

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

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

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

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

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

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

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

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

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

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

König is. 

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

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

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

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

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

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

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

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

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

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

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

You look like a good candidate. 

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

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

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

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

— You want to see the bedroom then?

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

— Sir, this is very…

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

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

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

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

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

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

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

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

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

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

— N…not a whore, please…

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

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

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

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— I’ll tell him. 

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

— I need to return to my dorm. 

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

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

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

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

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

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

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

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Blind!Reader who accidentally bumped hard into Mafia!Konig, hard enough for to Konig thought it's some punk who wants to pick a fight with him but only to find a cute girlie with a walking stick that sprawled on the floor because of the wall of meat he is (feel free to use the "you hurt your ankle!?" excuse for him to take Blind!Reader for his own)

Konig was ready to kill when he felt someone bump into him. A fucker should be blind not to notice this wall of muscles and bottled anger coming his way - and Konig sure as hell would make them blind if they are dumb enough not to look around when they are walking. His hand goes to grasp his gun - an instinct, in case the fucker wasn't just dumb, but an enemy...and then he hears a whimper. Clacking of a stick falling to the ground. Cute whimpers. Female whimpers. The "oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to bump into you, but they changed the street layout since winter and-" God, you were fucking adorable. Precious. Pretty. Cute. Whimpering like a kitten when he helped you stand up, letting you clutch on his hands as a guiding line. Supported you by your waist while handing you the walking stick - and not letting go of your body even as you were trying to stand up without being wobbly. He knows you're probably fine, you didn't fall that badly, but he grasps for straws in trying to keep you by his side. Apologizes, even, his nervous and anxious self returning for a second as he understands that the situation isn't about possible murder. It's about possibly finding a cute girlfriend. Now, he obviously can't leave you to fend for yourself. Konig doesn't care that you survived on your own and is perfectly fine without him - he also doesn't care that you really hate having him dote over you like you're some helpless creature. He needs you by his side, preferably under him, and the fact you survived for so long on your own actually doesn't say anything - he needs to protect you, even if it means being as overbearing as possible. Even if it means simply picking you up like a lost cat and getting you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass one time before packing you into a dark vehicle. You can calm down by trying to memorize his face through your hands, and he can memorize himself with the curves of your sweet body. God, he is going to enjoy making you his...even if it means locking you up in his mansion so no enemy could use you to get to him.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Loser! König fucking your panties

Poor baby he’s so needy and desperate half the time

Hes so touch starved ong :((

Gets hard even if your hand brushes his

But he's so gentle with you

But sometimes he can't control himself

How could he with a pretty lil thing like you

Who would’ve thought though

That the big mean and brutish soldier is humping his dick into your dirty panties that he stole from the hamper to get himself off

Nasty, nasty pervert

so nasty that he doesn't stop fucking it even when you enter the room

Instead the shameless brute locks his eyes with yours as he fucks his angry red cock into your panties

But you're not any less are you?

Locking eyes while you’re rubbing your thighs

Looking up at him like a needy lil pup wanting a treat for being a good girl

His raspy voice groans lustfully

“C’mere Schatz, look at what you did”

“Be a good little girl and fix it f’me yea”

A smirk plasters his face as

You move closer towards him

Slowly,

Like a predator carefully approaching its prey

Your soft hands grip onto könig's cock, stroking it languidly

Stroking his cock into the soft material of your panty

How disgusting

But looking at him being such a mess

Was heaven

"Kö daddy you wanna cum?"

"Y-yes schatz, fuck please"

Dirty bastard fucking your panty like it's your cunt,

Dirty fucking bastard cumming into those panties

And you dirty little slut wearing those cum soaked panties for the remaining day

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Where are my COD girlies?

Needing to choke on Simon Riley's massive cock. Needing him to thread his fingers in my hair and hold me against him till I choke, tears running down my cheeks.

"Look how pretty you are, lovie," he groans, pretty brown eyes peering down through his balaclava, "it's not too much for you, let me cum down your throat and I'll give you a nice little reward"

[wingedjellyfishflight]

The thought I was having...

"She can take it, don't let her whining fool you Ghost" John said, taking a drag off his freshly lit cigar as he sits back in his chair.

"Can't be runnin' away from me now," Simon gruffed, gripping your hips to hold you in place as he sank in deeper.

What had started out as a little joke between you and John after a drunken comment you made one night about wanting Simon to "stretch you out" had quickly evolved into John bringing his soldier into your bedroom on one condition. He got to watch.

Your fingers pulled at the sheets as Simon bottomed out, a rough groan dragged from his chest as you squeezed around him.

Fucking his thick, throbbing cock into your tight pussy had been no easy task despite how wet you were, and now that you were pulsing all snug around him and crying his name as you clawed the bed he didn't think he could ever pull out.

"That's it lovie, take a deep breath" He praised, pressing a warm hand against your spine to sink your chest lower to the bed as you moaned at the absolutely sinful angle he had you held in, "such a pretty bird Price, wanna keep her for myself".

"No can do Ghost," John replied with a chuckle as he adjusted himself through his pants. The sounds of your pleasure bringing a hot flush to his face, "she's got a ring on her finger for a reason".

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Ghost having a cigarette after clearing another zombie infested building with his unit only to spot a terrified little thing hiding in a supply closet. Coaxes her out like a scared little kitten and takes her back to base with him because he’s not used to having sweet teary things around, but he knows that, for some reason, he likes it.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

john price x female!reader. 18+ MDNI. 650+ words, just a short thing to try and break my writers block.

It's absurd, really. How quickly you crumble like sand between his fingers the second he touches you. How quickly you give into the baser need to submit to a man like him; a man like Captain John Price.

He's insatiable, however, the moment his lips brush against the soft plushness of your own. His tongue invasive and overwhelming when he curls it against the back of your teeth, and lets it dance teasingly over the wetness of your tongue. John is a man who makes sure to cover all of his bases, makes sure that there's not a single thing left neglected in the wake of his unbridled lust.

His hands curl tighter against the meat of your thighs, almost to the point of pain—almost—if it weren't for the way your knees were up by your ears, how your stomach is squished between your thighs and the warmth of his stomach hair against your slick skin. He's nearly snarling when he pulls away to suck in a deep breath, his lips curled just enough to reveal his teeth.

You've always thought him to be somewhat of a beast, a monster that was untamed in his field of work. But it only becomes a reality when he's got you folded in half, cock buried so deep you can feel the telltale sign of a cramp in your stomach.

"J—John," you breathe, the word wheezed out of your throat with a particularly rough thrust. His eyes are wild when they search your face, before settling to lock on the way you're staring up at him with big wide doe-like eyes.

"Fuckin' 'ell. You're a sight." John groans, a deep rumble that you can feel in your chest from how close he's plastered himself to your front. His thighs shift just slightly, knees digging into the bed and the angle deepens somehow. "Always so pretty, all f'r me. Yeah?"

His voice is deep, sinfully, more than usual. It has your toes curling uselessly in the air, your pussy clenching around his cock and it's enough to draw out a pained-like whine from his throat. All for him, your mind repeats. That's right, isn't it? You're his, always have been. From the very second you met his gaze in that bar filled with army men—you were a goner for the man with the thick beard and eyes of blue steel.

John has a knack for knowing what you're thinking because instead of admonishing you for only moaning at his words, he grins. He hankers down further atop of you, until his hands release your thighs in place of hooking them in the crook of his arms. His head tilts, nose brushing against your own and he's a little condescending with the low laugh that tumbles from his throat when you chase his lips.

"Yeah, you know you're all mine." His words are hushed, even when he picks up the harsh pace of his hips. The wet slap of his balls against your ass is almost as deafening as the beat of your heart in your ears. His eyes soften, and that smile melts into something loving. "My beautiful girl."

Your chin cranes up on instinct, once again shamelessly seeking his lips but instead, he skirts over them. His beard brushes against your face until the warmth of his lips presses firmly against your forehead, he holds his lips there for a moment. The kiss is awfully tender, such a stark difference to the way he rocks his hips hard and deep enough to trigger an orgasm that has your mind blank. The mixture of different emotions; lust, love, they blend together until you can only focus on him—

John only breaks away from the kiss to duck back down, his nose pressed against the meat of your cheek before he groans—more of a low growl of a wounded bear, and you feel the kick of his cock. Once, twice, and then he's planting himself firmer against you. His hips still, pressing you impossibly further into the bed to ensure every last drop of his cum is buried deep where it belongs—in you.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

A small continuation because I can't get it out of my head

"Come on Lovie, give us a kiss" Simon murmured, tapping his covered lips with his finger, balaclava still in place.

Your hands were on his shoulders, keeping you from tipping backward as your thighs strained to straddle him.

You looked over at John, sitting comfortable in his chair with his cigar and glass of whiskey on the side table.

"Can I?" You asked, getting a chuckle from both men.

"This night is about you, whatever you say goes," John said with a smirk, taking a hefty swig from his glass.

You turned back to Simon, carefully putting your hands to his mask and moving it up past his mouth.

His lips were so hot against yours, the animal like growl huffing from his nose sending a shock of pleasure down into your gut, a soft gasp escaping as you tightened around Simon's cock buried so deep inside you.

Your tongues tangled together sloppily, tasting each other so throughly as he gripped your ass and began you moving up and down, seemingly fucking himself deeper with every thrust.

"Want him to cum in that pretty cunt, sweetheart?" John asked, his gaze trained fully on you as you bounced in Simon's lap.

"Uh huh" you mumbled, barely able to form words as your orgasm licked at your spine like flames.

"Tell him that then"

"I- I want you to cum inside me S-Simon" you moaned, nails pressing into the the skin of his shoulders, his tattooed arms tightening around you.

"Don't think I could pull out if I tried" He grunted, his neck getting slick with sweat, "but I'll fill you up as many times as you want, love, you've got me all night"

[wingedjellyfishflight]

💊🤲

[wingedjellyfishflight]

A little Silly Horny Simon 'Ghost'Riley thought...[MDNI]

Fuck...

Just imagine Simon 'Ghost' Riley going ham on your pussy...

Large burly hands biting into the plush of your thighs, reveling in the tremor running through them as his tongue lolls out- hot, heavy, and thick against your fluttering folds.

Oh. How he loves the fluttering, velvety folds of your silky pussy. Spatting on your pebbled clit, Simon's eyes roll back as you arch for him, keeping prettily as you shove that perfect pussy into his waiting lips.

Simon Riley has seen the horrors of war firsthand. Experienced excruciating loss and somehow kept his head above water. If he's honest with himself there were more dark days when he considered the worst more than there had been bright days- until you.

Now...now there was sunshine. Now there was you, and he'd be damned if he let a day pass without you knowing how important you were to him...

How unfortunate that this meant he'd spend an obscene amount of time between your legs...

@nanamiscocksleeve, @feyhunter78 😘

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Can’t stop thinking about riding Simon’s face. So here’s this:

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

TW: Oral (female receiving), pet names, swear words.

//

“You want me to what?” You chuckle softly, cheeks warming at your boyfriend’s request when you glance up at him from your cuddled position on the bed, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Sit on my face.” Simon grumbles with a shrug, his signature smirk on his face as he gently brushes your bare back with his fingertips.

“You want me to sit on your face?” You repeat, cheeks warming even more at his bluntness.

“Did I stutter?” He rolls his eyes, his smirk still evident on his lips as he pulls you onto his lap from the bed with his beefy arms, your legs straddling his wide hips.

You giggle as he manhandles you, your hands resting on his bare chest, fumbling with his dog tags as you glance down at him with a shy smile.

“Don’t get shy on me now, darling.” He smiles fondly, his hand moving from your hip to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You trust me?”

“Of course,” You murmur, nodding your head along with your words as he cups the side of your jaw and brings your lips to his for a gentle kiss before patting your arse cheeks with a grin.

“Up you get.” He pats his chest, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze as he guides your movements, moaning deeply at the sight of your bare core near his lips. “So fucking pretty. I’m so lucky.”

You giggle softly, cheeks flooding at his vulgarity as you attempt to calm your heart rate with nerves, your hands resting on the headboard for support as you hover above his lips.

“You just let me do the work.” He murmurs, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his large hands moving to curl around your arse cheeks, encouraging you to lower yourself. “I’ve got you. Just enjoy it, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, nodding gently as you follow his lead, lowering your hips as he grunts with pleasure, bringing your hips even closer to his mouth and immediately gets to work, swiping his tongue through your folds, gathering up your juices as if it’s honey.

You moan softly as he flicks his tongue to your clit, eyes locking into his as you look down at him. Your fingertips curl around the headboard a little more as the pleasure begins to build.

He groans with delight at the taste of you, flicking his tongue to your clit and taking his time, almost as if he’s trying to remember every taste, sound and movement. “Tastes so fucking good, baby.”

His movements pick up, the need and desire to make you feel as good as possible kicking in. His hands get rougher, palming over your arse cheeks and the back of your thighs, encouraging you to rock your hips against him, earning soft hitches and moans from your pretty lips.

Your hand moves to tangle in his blonde hair, pulling with pleasure when his tongue explores you, flicking and sucking in all the right spots. Pulling out the pleasure from within with every swirl of his tongue.

“Gonna cum, Si.” You gasp, your hips moving against his mouth, unable to stop the urge to get more. Your fingers tugging a little harder in his scalp, earning a grunt of approval from him.

“That’s my girl.” He praises, his words muffled as continues to abuse your clit with his tongue, flicking expertly as his large hands palm the back of your thighs possessively, squeezing and supporting your movements against him. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words were all you needed to allow the knot to snap, your hips twitching when your orgasm washes through you. Your head tilted back as you chant his name.

Simon doesn’t let up, continuing to suck and flick onto your clit as he rides out your high, grunting with ecstasy as he watches you come undone.

It feels like hours when his movements slow, eventually coming to a stop as he presses a satisfied kiss to your inner thigh. His hands smoothing over your soft skin, bringing you back to him.

You pant, breathing heavy as you glance down to him, grinning when you see his pleased grin on his lips.

“Did you enjoy that?” He quizzes, his grin widening because he already knows your answer, continuing to explore your skin softly with his hands.

“Yes,” You giggle, rolling your eyes with feigned annoyance at his smugness. “It was nice.”

“Good,” He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, leaning back against the pillow to have a better look at you, taking in your blissed out appearance. “You can sit on my face anytime, pretty girl.”

[wingedjellyfishflight]

things you and simon do (that he won’t admit to anyone else)

• weekly face masks. You have quite the collection. after the 2nd time you did one and he stood behind you and watched (stared), you forced him to do one. He won’t admit to it but his skin does look nicer the next morning.

• skin care regiment. nothing fancy. a cleanser, sunscreen (“no simon, i do not care that you always have the mask on. it’s still necessary.”), eye cream (insomnia king), moisturizer, and lip balm. the scars on his face aren’t as pronounced now that skin has more moisture. safe to say he is happy with the results.

• shampoo AND conditioner. the man used a BAR OF SOAP when you first met. he has a buzzcut for his job and really only lets it grows long when he’s on deployment. appalled was the first and only word you could use when you noticed the lack of them. “What wrong wit t’at then?” was the response you received when you asked. it took ONE time of using your shower hair regiment to realize how wrong he was. avid pantene user now.

• tik tok trends. they NEVER see the light of day. “a boy whose jacked and kind” trend? personal favorite of yours. “bow around his bicep”? revisited often. “lipstick wipe panning over to him covered in lipstick kisses”? butterflies material. he doesn’t let you post them due to his paranoia, but he indulges you on the silly trends. Not without acting disinterested first before getting weirdly dedicated to making sure it comes out perfect.

• watch reality tv. guilty pleasure for both of you. you hated what you called “trashy television” until covid. now you are HOOKED. you made him watch season 20 of survivor with you and he suddenly wanted to watch every season. the big guy always critiquing the contestants and the way they did things. “Needa run faster than t’at.” “Never gonna get anywhere with that aim.” “I go 30 days with minimal food and water and all i get is shot at. These fuckers get a million dollars” He can’t lie, he loves it just as much as you do.

a/n: will probs expand on this more in the future! did a mixture of some of the thoughts I had so here is this! gonna be posting more!!! thoughts, opinion, and feedback is always welcome!!!

[wingedjellyfishflight]

<3

[wingedjellyfishflight]

unmaskin’ THE simon riley.

your thumbs dip beneath the scratchy material, the skull print peeling and faded. and when your fingers meet the edge of his jaw, you feel a slight stubble, stomach rolling in a nauseating mix of anticipation and excitement.

“excited?” simon murmurs, his voice barely grazing the air with the way his balaclava muffles the gruff. his eyes are trained, staring down at you, fluttering down to your stretched lips ever so often.

“yeah,” you reply simply, softly meeting his energy. he can see the spark catching blaze in your eyes as you lift the mask over his thin, cracked lips. they part slightly, letting you peek in to see the red of his tongue and the dazzling crystals of his teeth.

and he smiles when you press a kiss to his lips, your eager hands pulling the balaclava up off his head. you can barely break away from the tight seal his lips form around yours, heart thudding and fluttering at the first look of this man.

his blonde hair lays disheveled from the mask, his eyebrows sit pulled down slightly, a pure look on his beautiful face. n there’s his eyes, a milky, dull brown, pupils flickering across your face, desperate to your every little reaction.

your fingers curl around his cheeks, nails dragging into the skin gently, you’re almost in a shock. so surprised yet so much further obsessed.

“god, simon you’re perfect,” you breathe, eyes trained on the hard, crooked bridge of his nose before they’re back down to his lips. you see his cheeks flush as you pull him to you, teeth taking hold of the pretty pink pillow of his lower lip, and he breathes out into your mouth, folding over for you.

not proofread lol kay bye bye

[wingedjellyfishflight]

jusss know simon loves lettin his plush mama ride up on his 🍆

his eyes drop, memorizing every curve, every dimple of cellulite, every drip of sweat. he paints it behind his lids, letting his pupils soak it up and press it into the front of his brain. you’re perfect, bouncing on his cock like some lil bunny.

“jus’… jus’ like that, baby, takin’ it so well,” he puffs, thick accent drawling in n out of syllables. he can barely breathe with the way your soft, pliable walls squish and hug around his cock, sucking him in tiiighht.

and his hands press at the soft globes of your ass, forcing himself deeper with every drop of your hips. forcing you to really fuckin’ take it all, feel it all.

your soft belly bounces, the pretty rolls highlighting in a luminescent glow as sweat shines, your thighs cup his hips, the thick, plump skin cresting over his hipbones in some sorta cast. and your heavy tits bounce, lifting and falling with every fuckin’ movement.

gahhh, he’s on the verge of filling you up fuckin’ full, ready to pump you up with a sweet lil baby. hand smoothing over your ribs to cup at the underside of your breast, he likes to press his fingers into the soft skin, pinch at your nipple just to have you going shrill on his cock.

“look so goddamn sweet, honey,” he gasps, knees locking up before his heels are settling into the bed, hips meeting yours halfway. and the way you squeal has him laughing, chuckling at your expense. “want me to fill you up, baby? or should i cover your pretty tits? fuuuckk.”

now imagine some tit!fuckin or thigh… yeah lemme lemme not get into allat.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

CW: 18+ MDNI, ghoap x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Can’t stop thinking about having to listen to the two bearish tenants in the apartment next door fucking nasty style whenever they’re home.

Every time you’ve passed them outside they’ve been nice enough- well, the one you’ve properly met is, but whenever he stops you to chat, you can’t help but vividly recall the way he fucks his big, brooding partner like a man starved each night.

Sadly, it’s hard to find the words to ask an imposing guy like him if he can go have sex in a hotel or something, unable to find a polite way to tell him that he sounds like an elk in heat when he fucks- so you don’t. The expectant glint in his eyes told you that even if you did manage to bring it up, it would only spur him on.

The distinct and audible shuffle of moving furniture one morning as you slip on your coat to head out for work makes you hopeful they’ve decided to relocate, and as your thoughts drift later throughout your tedious shift you find yourself praying for someone nice and quiet to occupy the vacant spot; your work-addled brain dreaming up possible new tenants and their imaginary backstories. It’s nice.

After a tiring day you’re more than ready to fall into the first peaceful sleep you’ve had in months, however, to your horror, you find out they’ve moved their bed into the room directly across from your own, Their headboard knocking into the thin wall behind you with a brutish vigour you had previously thought impossible for them to top.

Covering your ears with your pillow and rolling onto your side doesn’t do much to stop the low yearn pooling in your gut when your bed is being rhythmically shaken by their momentum- nor does the shocking sound of your name being spilled out messily in between their own.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

some husband material headcanons with simon riley

late-night garage dances are his quiet way of loving you. when the house is quiet and you’re both waiting for your daughter to get home from a party, he’ll pull you into a slow dance. he doesn’t say much, just rests his chin on your head as the two of you sway to soft music in the dim light.

if you’re too tired to shower, he’ll gently coax you into letting him wash your hair. his hands are rough but so careful, massaging your scalp in a way that makes your shoulders relax instantly.

when you’re at the beach, you trace your name on his back with sunscreen, leaving the rest bare. later, when the tan sets in and your name is etched on his skin, he looks at it in the mirror and smirks. he loves the quiet claim you have on him, even if he pretends to roll his eyes when you point it out.

simon takes his time applying sunscreen to you at the beach, even though he could be quick about it. he’s meticulous, rubbing it in gently over your shoulders and back, making sure you don’t miss a spot. “can’t have you burning, love,” he says softly. he always uses it as an excuse to trail his fingers along your skin, a subtle moment of affection.

he’s big on touch, even if he doesn’t always initiate it. his favorite moments are when you lay your head on his chest at night and trace the scars on his arms. he doesn’t always talk about them, but he likes the way you don’t shy away from them either.

he’s the kind of dad who stays up until he hears the door click after a late night out. he’ll mutter about the time under his breath, but he softens immediately when your daughter leans in to give him a quick hug before heading to bed.

if he hears you sigh in frustration while cooking or doing something around the house, he’ll quietly walk over, take whatever you’re holding, and finish the job without a word.

he doesn’t say it often, but he loves being domestic with you. folding laundry, fixing things around the house, or even grocery shopping together is calming for him.

simon keeps a picture of the two of you tucked in his wallet—a candid photo of you laughing. when he’s away, he takes it out to remind himself what’s waiting for him back home.

he’ll let you put ridiculous face masks on him during a lazy evening, even though he grumbles about it. “this better not make me smell like a bloody fruit salad,” he mutters, but he stays still for you.

he’s terrible at hiding his smile when he hears you laugh. even in the most mundane moments, your happiness is his favorite sound.

sometimes, he’ll sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway you gently to a song only he can hear.

if your child ever talks back to you or says something disrespectful, simon doesn’t let it slide for a second. his voice is calm but firm as he says, “that’s your mum you’re speaking to. apologize—now.” he rarely raises his voice, but the weight behind his words is enough to make them realize they’ve crossed a line. later, he’ll sit down with them, explaining why respect is non-negotiable. “she does everything for us. you don’t ever treat her like that, understood?”

when you have surgery, simon steps into full caregiver mode, even though it’s not something he’s entirely used to. he carefully helps you into the bath, always making sure you’re comfortable and secure. his touch is gentle as he washes you, murmuring, “tell me if anything hurts.”

he dries your hair after the bath, combing it slowly so it doesn’t tangle. “you’re still as gorgeous as ever,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

he insists on carrying you to bed, even if you tell him you can walk. “don’t argue with me, love. you’re meant to rest.” he tucks you in, makes sure you have everything you need, and stays close by in case you need him during the night.

simon takes every opportunity to teach your child the importance of kindness, especially toward you. he models this by being gentle with you, always showing them how love and respect are expressed.

he’s a firm dad, but never unfair. when he has to scold your child, he always makes sure they understand why their behavior was wrong, but he’s quick to reassure them that he loves them no matter what.

during your recovery from surgery, simon takes over all the household duties. he’s not a great cook, but he’ll follow recipes to the letter to make sure you’re well-fed. when something doesn’t turn out quite right, he mutters, “bloody hell,” but doesn’t stop trying.