NSFW!

NSFW!

♥︎ strictly 18+ ♥︎ p! twt links ♥︎ part 4 ♥︎

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY… ♥︎

what better way to wake your husband up than to ride his cock in the skimpy lingerie he bought you

simon prepping you open before stuffing another of your holes full

riding simon in the rec room

sloppy head for your lieutenant

simon takes you to a remote cabin for your anniversary

elevator shenanigans w frat bf! simon

the mask stays on, even when your fully spread and squealing

JOHNNY ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH… ♥︎

cuddles and sex

wearing your underwear like a ring on his cock bc he’s yours and only yours

christening the new house w some fun in bed

boob job for nerd bf! johnny

paying thanks to johnny for taking you on such a loved holiday w your mouth

johnny is a tease through and through

back shots w silly! soap

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK… ♥︎

spread your cheeks for kyle

squelching and slurping as he shoves his cock into your drooling cunt

sneaking into gaz’s bunk to show him some love

slow and sweet sex w big dick kyle

beach day w kyle ends w you on your knees

you and kyle are left alone in the car.. what else is there to do

clap them cheeks for gaz

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE… ♥︎

price loves eating your pussy

john just can’t keep his hands (or cock) to himself when you wear pink

mafia boss! price takes you on his poker table

professor! price takes good care of his favourite student

any glimpse of pink and he’s feral

missionary w your older neigbour! john

you buy a pink wig… ofc he was gonna fuck you in it

been thinking of maybe making a tag list, pls lmk if you’d like to be added <3333

Ok I lied. Here’s some more Simon fucking himself stupid because apparently he has a chokehold on me. (prev: part 1, part 2)

You’d think a man that regularly fucks his own brains mushy would have a poor performance in the bedroom, right? For a normal man, perhaps, but this is Simon Riley we’re talking about; ‘vigor’ is his middle name.

So even after going for multiple rounds, cycling through multiple positions, and getting covered in multiple fluids, your boyfriend is as ready to go as ever… physically speaking, that is. Because as far as mentally goes, he dropped out a long time ago, somewhere between taking you on your back and then on your knees.

Now you’ve reached the part of the night you like to call your ‘wind down phase’, where you’re just looking for one last, easy release before you throw in the towel. But where you’re tired, sensitive as hell, and already feeling tomorrow’s soreness starting to creep in, Simon’s still pinching and pawing at you like he can’t get enough.

As you lazily ride him, fingers curled over his thick shoulders, Simon’s own hands are pressed hungrily into the meat of your hips. From where he’s sat against the headboard, his lower back propped up by a pillow or two, he’s in the perfect position to guide you back and forth in his lap.

It’s as you feel the slow approach of your final climax that you begin to pick up the pace a little, only to slow right back down again as a sudden noise has you distracted. It takes you a second to place the sound, but once you recognize it, you’re immediately grinding your movements to a halt.

Simon’s phone only rings when it’s you or his work calling. And seeing the current situation you find yourselves in, you know it’s not the former.

The phone rings and rings, neither one of you bothering to move for it. The call gets sent to voicemail, and for a moment you think that’s all it’s going to be, but as the phone promptly begins to trill again, you know something else is up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you reach over to the nightstand to grab the device. “It’s John,” you tell your boyfriend, seeing his Captain’s contact flash across the screen. You turn the phone around to show Simon, but it seems he has little interest in it, his grip on your waist unwavering as his phone buzzes away in your hand.

“Should you answer? Could be important,” you say. The boss making back to back calls speaks of urgency, if not emergency. But Simon’s focus lies solely on where your two bodies are connected, a sex-fueled tunnel vision if you ever saw one.

Though one look at Simon’s face tells you he’s in no place to have a meaningful conversation right now, as the phone darkens again, only to then light up for a third time in a row, you know this is serious. So despite the haziness in his eyes and the limpness of his jaw, you decide to answer the phone, putting it on speaker.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment before you hear the deep baritone of Price’s voice calling out. “Simon?” He waits a beat. “Simon, hello?” He tries again when he hears nothing in response.

While Price is kept in limbo, you’re busy trying to rouse your boyfriend back from brain death. “Simon, it’s John,” you whisper to him, hoping to not be heard by the other man on the phone. Unfortunately, Simon gives zero indication he’s heard you, his bleary gaze looking right past you.

“You there, Simon?” Price’s voice crackles over the speaker.

Bringing your hand up, you lightly tap Simon on the cheek. “Baby, it’s John. Your boss,” you whisper again, slightly louder this time.

Again, he offers you no response, just a slow blink, an even slower trickle of drool starting to form at the corner of his mouth.

As you hear another gruff, “Simon?”, being spoken over the phone, your taps become a little more insistent, a little more forceful.

“It’s Price, Si. Price. Captain Price,” you hiss, urgently patting him against the cheek.

Somehow, whether by miracle or sheer force, you’re able to knock Simon’s last two brain cells together and coax forth a vaguely human-sounding reaction from him.

“Priiizzzzze,” Simon rumbles out, a garbled approximation of his Captain’s surname.

The line goes quiet for a beat, and you can almost imagine the man on the other side blinking in confusion. Then, “You alright, Simon?” he asks earnestly. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”

Thankfully, Simon seems to have regained the smallest hint of his bearings again, and he manages to hum a solid, “Mmmf.”

Price takes a moment to consider what he means by such an ambiguous response, and deciding it translates to ‘Speak freely’, he does just that. “Well, I’m callin’ because we’ve just received word of some new developments comin’ out of Hong Kong. Laswell’ll want to give a full briefing tomorrow mornin’, but essentially–”

And that’s about as far as Simon gets before he checks out again.

As Price continues to lay down the basics for him, Simon’s focus shifts back to what he really desires: the person he’s currently buried to the hilt inside.

His Captain’s droning acts as little more than background noise as Simon reaches up and begins toying with one of your nipples. The action is unexpected (not to mention ill-timed given the circumstances), and you try batting his hand away, even as a pleasurable tweak has you choking back a moan.

However, unfazed, Simon drags his fingers down, down, downwards, slowly tracing the midline of your body until he reaches your throbbing sex. His fingers are warm and slightly rough as he begins to stroke you, applying just the barest of touches, but it’s enough to light your nerves on fire.

This time, it’s harder to stop your moans from spilling forth, and you’re forced to mash your lips together lest you reveal your presence to the Captain still chirping on and on. Your free hand darts down to grab Simon’s wrist, meaning to tug it away, but instead, you find yourself pausing, holding onto him as a shudder wracks up your spine.

You know you should push him away – or, at the very least, tell him to ease up a little – but it just feels so fucking good that you can’t bring yourself to do either.

Besides, even if you were to speak up, would Simon be cognizant enough to heed your words? A quick peek at his expression tells you all you need to know. The lights may be on upstairs, but there is no one home right now to answer the phone.

You can feel the hand between your legs grow wetter and wetter as you start to leak droplets of your arousal. The slippery fluid makes Simon’s fingers glide that much smoother, that much slicker as he rubs you.

Even the way he’s touching you now – the way he’s expertly taking you apart – isn’t the result of conscious decision making by Simon. His movements, however deft, aren’t directed by any true rhyme or reason; they’re pure muscle memory at this point.

Simon’s other hand on your hip starts to rock you against him, and you find it’s getting harder to keep yourself under control. Try as you might to tamp your voice down, your ecstasy soon gets the better of you, and before you can stop it, you’re muttering a less than subtle, “Fuck.”

Immediately, you realize what you’ve done, and you slap a hand over your mouth at your mistake. As Price’s side of the call goes similarly quiet, you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to kick yourself for your carelessness.

Just as you think the jig is up, however, you catch a lucky break, as not a second later, Price resumes, “–boots on the ground to confirm what these sat images have been pickin’ up.”

The feeling of relief that floods you is almost akin to euphoria, and you exhale deeply (but not loud enough to be picked up over the receiver) as you bring your hand back down.

That was close; way too close for comfort, honestly. And yet, despite how close you just came to exposing yourself, Simon is totally, completely oblivious to it all.

This time when you reach for the wrist between your legs, you successfully tug it away. You feel like you’ve tempted fate enough for one night.

Though Simon puts up zero fight as you remove his hand from your sex, that’s only because he then reaches up and quickly stuffs his slickened fingers into his mouth. His eyes fall shut as he savors the salty taste of your arousal, a sort of blissful wave washing over him as he sucks his fingers clean.

Somehow, though you’re not sure how it’s possible, you swear you can feel him grow even harder where he’s buried inside you. The sensation makes you squirm, wanting to bear down on the fullness within you, but you force yourself to resist the urge to tilt your hips back and forth.

This is almost torture at this point, like you’re caught in some kind of kinky Saw trap. Honestly, you’re not sure how much more of this you can take. But thankfully, it appears you won’t have to endure it for much longer.

“All that’s to say, it looks like our timetable’s been moved up. We’ll be shippin’ out earlier than expected,” Price starts to wind the one-sided conversation down.

Though Simon has been relatively mute this entire time, for some reason, at this moment, he takes the opportunity to let out a long, “Mmmmmm.”

While you know the noise isn’t much more than an appreciative moan at your taste, Price is unaware of that fact, and so he asks, “That’s not a problem, is it, Lieutenant?”

You both wait a few beats for Simon to respond, but with less than a handful of working neurons left in his brain, you figure that’s unlikely to happen. Knowing Price is still expecting an answer and your boyfriend is unable to offer him one, you realize you have to take matters into your own hands once more.

So puffing out your chest and straightening up your spine, you muster up your best Simon impression as you expel a deep, gravelly, “Hmm.” The several seconds that follow find you holding your breath in anticipation, praying to whatever god will listen that Price buys your impersonation.

It’s after he eventually says, “Alright, well, I’ll expect you at 0800 for tomorrow’s brief,” that you breathe again, feeling nearly on the verge of passing out.

Frankly, this whole ordeal has left you exhausted. From having to hide from Price to having to pull one over on him, you feel like your heart is liable to give out any moment now.

If only Simon had been more of a conscious participant in this conversation maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. You and him could have quietly laughed and swore together in your shared misery. Instead, he’s too preoccupied with squeezing your nipple again between his wet fingers to notice anything’s the matter.

You don’t even bother pushing his hand away this time as you can sense the call is mercifully coming to a close.

“Have a good rest of your night, Simon,” Price says through the speaker.

If you weren’t so wrecked right now, you could almost leap with joy from how utterly relieved you feel. From the moment you answered this call, you thought you’d undoubtedly be found out. Truth be told, you’re not sure how you managed to make it through the past several minutes unheard and undiscovered. All you know is that you did and you’re beyond grateful for that.

But before you can hang up the phone to celebrate, Price has one last thing to say. Just as you’re about to press the end call button, just as you’re about to fling the phone to the far side of the room, just as you’re about to collapse into a boneless heap because you’re finally, finally, finally in the clear, Price gives one last farewell that makes your stomach fall out of your ass.

“And you too, (Y/N).”

The call dies, and you wish you died with it.

@dante-mightdie

POOKIE WHERE'S THE PART 2?? (can i be ᓚᘏᗢ anon? :3)

butcher!simon and lowselfesteem!reader who’s just angry at the world. years of growing up as conventionally unattractive and being treated like you were less than human because of it had turned you into a bitter thing who didn’t bother putting on a smile for anyone

you didn’t see a point. it didn’t matter how nice you were or how many fake smiles you painted on your face, you were still less than

you come into his shop every once in a while, earphones in as you grab some of the prepackaged meat sitting in the fridges. he watches you every time, you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings judging by the fact you don’t even acknowledge him until you come up to pay

“you should smile more, luv…” he grunts, passing you a plastic bag with your paid goods inside. you roll your eyes, snatching it from his hand

“nothing to smile about in my life.” you grumble back, stomping over to the door of his shop to leave but not without turning around to call him a ‘prick’ first

he watches you through the windows until you’re out of view. he had to have you. immediately.

YES YES YES YES IM BARKING @latenightdaydreams COULD WE PLEASE GET A MLM VERSION?! (No pressure, just a "no" is also ok :3)

Hey i dont know if you take requests but i had an idea based off a song for könig

Bück dich befehl ich dir wende dein Antlitz ab von mir dein Gesicht ist mir egal bück dich

Which translates to

I command you to bend over Turn your face away from me I don't care about your face Bend over!

What if the reader was listening to the song without knowing what it means and könig decides to tell her and use it on her?

Song is Bück Dich by rammstein

Hello!! I do!

Bück Dich!König (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, rough sex

1.1k word count

.

.

Today is your free day, so you cleaned up around your room. You get dressed in leggings and a baggy shirt, putting your playlist on shuffle. Since most people were out of their barracks, you play your music loudly. Most people, except for König.

He’s taking long strides down the hall to make his way out to his office when the sound of your music distracts him. König stalls and looks around, trying to pinpoint where the music is coming from. He turns on his heels, quickly heading towards your room. The next song plays an older German metal band. Instantly, König recognizes the song playing.

König walks up to your door, banging his fist on the wood. On the other side of the door, you jump up and spin around. You drop the laundry that you are folding onto the bed and open the door. You're greeted by the icy stare of your 6’10 colonel. Quickly, you dash to grab your phone and pause the music.

When you step away, König enters the room. He looks around, noticing how you've decorated your room to be personal to yourself. You don’t realize that he’s standing behind you, so when you spin around, you gasp.

“Your music was very loud.” König’s voice sounds cold.

“I’m sorry, Colonel. I’ll turn it down.”

König takes two steps closer to you. The smell of tobacco and his natural musk hits you. “Do you even know what that song means? You don’t speak German, do you?”

“Um, no. I don’t know.”

A small chuckle leaves König’s lips as you admit you don’t understand the song. His eyes travel up and down your body, noticing how your leggings hug your thighs. The baggy shirt on you hides your curves, but your breasts are still obvious.

“It’s a dirty song, Liebing. Not exactly one you should blast on base.”

One of his large gloved hands reaches out and caresses the side of your face. You can feel your heart beginning to pound. His touch gently, different from the way he’s looking down at you. What you can’t see is the smirk underneath his sniper hood.

“He’s basically saying to bend over, your face doesn’t matter…” his voice trails off for a second. “Just bend over and get fucked.”

You hold his gaze and swallow hard. There is a clear growing tension in the room. König traces his hand along your jawline, noticing your shaky breathing. He is aware he is getting to you and it boosts his ego a bit.

“Would you like for me to demonstrate?”

“I—uh.”

König takes your bashful gaze and stumbles over your words as consent. His hands drop to his belt, undoing it, as he looks down at you. “Turn around.”

You do as he asks, grabbing you by the back of your neck and walking you to your bed. König gently bends you over so that your face is pressed into the soft fabric of your sheets. He crouches behind you as he pulls your leggings down. The sight of your blue cotton pants caused a wave of desire to wash over his body; he’s eager to see what you look like, smell like, taste like.

Since you cannot see him, he lifts his mask. Pressing his aquiline nose against the welcoming heat that is radiating from your sweet cunt. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell. His tongue flicks out, licking your folds through the fabric of your underwear. Your legs squirm, every light touch sends a wave of euphoria throughout your whole being.

König grabs the fabric of your panties and pulls them down, exposing your wet cunt to him. He pulls his gloves off to be able to feel your soft skin. His hand grabs your ass, shaking it slightly before spanking you. Standing back up, he pulls down his mask, then pants, letting them drop to his ankles.

You grab the bedsheets as you feel König’s massive cock push against your tight entrance. A guttural groan leaves König as he pushes further into you. Your back arches as he buries himself deep, his size causing a bit of pain.

“Nein, you can take it.” König places a hand on your lower back and pushes your back down, sticking your ass in the air.

“Fuck, it’s too big.” You mewl, your hips rolling on his cock as he lets you adjust to his size.

“I know, but you can take it. Let me stretch your pretty little cunt.” He groans as he begins to rock back and forth in long steady strokes. His eyes glued to how massive his cock looks inside of you.

He leans forward, putting some weight on you and thrust quicker. Each time his cock goes in, a mindless moan falls from you. Your silky walls flutter around him as you struggle to adjust. How he has you bent over, he’s almost able to get every single inch of his ten-inch cock into you. Every time he fills you, he can feel your body tense and you whimper in pain.

“Mein Gott, you’re so wet. You can’t even fit all of me.” His hands move to grab your hips, his fingers digging into your supple flesh. As he thrust into you, he pulls you back to mee him. The sound of your moans would wake up the whole barracks if people were in.

König continues to mercilessly buck into you. Your eyes flutter back as you feel overwhelmed with a rush of explosive euphoria. With both your hands, you push yourself up in an attempt to run away from his cock. The orgasm builds up to be too much.

“Don’t run for me.” His massive hand comes down and pushes you into the comforters. Your face pressed into the comforters and you bite them to suppress the scream needing to be released. “Just let it out, cum on my cock.”

“König!” You cry out lifting your head. Your legs shake, your words borderline gibberish as you beg for him to fuck you. Beg for him to make you cum.

“That’s it, fucking cum.” König grabs a handful of your hair and pushes your face down as you scream out profanities. Your creamy cunt leaves thick streaks up and down his pink cock. “Look at you. A fucking mess for your Colonel, aren’t you?”

You nod as König forces your head to the side. He sees the hazy look in your eyes from experiencing such pleasure; drool staining the bed sheets as you breathe heavily. At this moment you look absolutely beautiful. The afterglow makes you look like a cum hungry angel.

“You want more, Engel?” König’s Austrian accent comes out thick as he’s consumed with desire.

“Please, please fuck me.” You beg, not even caring about the pain.

“That’s what I want to hear.” König has a cocky grin under his mask, he knows he has you wrapped around his finger. You’re addicted to his cock now and he knows he will be seeing you again.

THERE'S NEVER MLM 😡😡😡

our rest time

TYTY LIEBLING!!! <3

I've been thinking about this since yesterday so...how about college loser!König who by sheer luck and awkward charm bagged you, the sweet, 'girl next door' of the campus. To this day König can't believe his lucky stars and wonders how did a nerdy loser like him, all lean height and awkward long limbs, got you to call his girlfriend :(

He still doesn't know if it was his extensive knowledge of fantasy media, the Roman Empire, guns or Legos but the way your eyes shone up at him with all the love he could only ever wish for before is enough to make him blush down his neck and his stupidly large cock harden in his pants.

He remembers the first time you allowed him to stick his tip inside, and only his tip because you wanted to tease him, and he came just like that with a whiny roar as he felt his swollen tip pulse and spurt out all his backed up cum inside you as you giggled, caressed his tummy and called him your good boy and how happy you are that you made him feel this good♡

Since then your relationship only grew and König was feral for his adorable gf, his cock felt like it was chubbying up all the time whenever he saw you in your shared dorm ans he never passed the opportunity to hump you and whine into your ear about how much he needs you ans loves you. However, he is still a pervert deep inside, a loser one at that, and when you're out with your girlfriends and he gets horny, König pulls up some trashy hentai with the heroine looking suspiciously like you as he faps to it :(

Imagine that one time you returned earlier than anticipated and you almost called out to your boyfriend but remained silent because you heard his whines and the slick sounds of him jerking off in your room so you silently creeped up wkth a smirk on your face and watched the spectacle of König with tears streaking down his cheeks, his hand on his large, painfully hard cock as he thrusts his hips up to chase the feeling as he continues to watch the heroine's bouncing boobs gettinf shoved right into the screen.

You're not even upset, you know that your lovely loser is a horndog and while you know that he would never in his life betray you, sometimes he can't help himself and jerk off to some trashy hentai...so you silently stroll over and wrap your arms around his broad shoulder and before he can jump away, shut his laptop in shame and start apologizing you whisper into his ear to 'finish what he started', if he's so far gone to be a nasty creep that couldn't even wait for his gf to return to fuck her, then he should finish now right? :/

Imagine König becoming extra whiny and pathetic, apologies spewing out from his mouth as he continues to jerk off and even has the balls to ask for you to help him but you just giggle and tell him that he surely doesn't need it! He has that hentai still on and he should just use that!

He ends up cumming so hard he almost passed out, the thick seed landing on his belly along with that thick cock still pulsing, even his balls were jerking with how much sperm he was pumping out as he babbled regrets that it's not your precious pussy he blew his load in </3