Lottie

I reblog MDNI stuff so NO MINORS PLEASE

[l-otti]

Hey there, this is Lieselotte, u can call me Lottie. <3

Pronouns she/her

- Amateur novel/song writer.

-20s.

-Not a native English speaker but understandable (hopefully) nonetheless.

-ENFP-T.

-Watched Interstellar 6 times, and I'm starting to wonder if I really do exist or is this all but a dream

-Fluent in Chinese and English, currently (trying) learning Spanish.

[disgustinggf]

[x-strwbrry]

ghost_s_riley_sys_failure.exe

simon ghost riley x female reader, age gap, 18+

It started with a fucking software update. You were the tech-wiz, the specialist who could navigate any system with a few clicks of a mouse. He was the grizzled veteran, a legend in the field who could disassemble and reassemble a rifle blindfolded but couldn't figure out how to connect his laptop to the projector. Captain Price had assigned you to 'show him the ropes,' a phrase that now made you want to laugh hysterically.

You’d leaned over Ghost’s shoulder, your breast pressing softly against his bicep as you pointed at the screen. "So, you just right-click here, and select 'duplicate display.' See? Simple."

He’d grunted in response, a low, non-committal sound. But he hadn't been looking at the screen. He'd been staring at the curve of your neck, the way your hair fell from your loose ponytail, the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. You were wearing a soft, pink top that day, with a heart-shaped neckline that dipped just low enough to show the swell of your breasts. When you leaned forward to grab the mouse, the fabric gaped, offering him a brief, maddening glimpse of your lacy bra.

And that's when it happened. A hot, sharp pang of arousal, his cock stirring in his cargos, thickening and hardening with a speed that was both shocking and humiliating. He was a man who controlled every aspect of his life, his body a finely-tuned weapon. And yet, here he was, getting a raging hard-on from a glimpse of lace and the scent of vanilla, all from a girl young enough to be his daughter. He’d shifted in his seat, gritting his teeth behind the mask. "Got it," he’d rasped, his voice rougher and heavier than usual. "You can go."

You’d given him a curious look but hadn't pushed it. You just gathered your things and left, oblivious to the absolute storm you'd unleashed inside him.

That night, Simon Riley jacked off with a ferocity that scared him. He came to the thought of your plump, soft ass in those tight tactical pants, the memory of your tits, so fucking perfect, spilling from that ridiculous top. He came so hard his vision went white, and the shame that followed was a cold, bitter pill. He was twice your age, your lieutenant. He was a pervert, a dirty old man lusting after the sweet young thing on his squad. He told himself it was a one-time thing, a moment of weakness brought on by a dry spell.

He was wrong.

It became a constant, low-grade torture. Every mission, every briefing, every training exercise was a minefield. He'd watch you on the firing range, your stance perfect, your brow furrowed in concentration, and he'd imagine that young look on your face as he fucked you slow, deep, and brutal. He'd see you laughing with Johnny, your head thrown back, your throat exposed, and he'd fantasize about wrapping his hand around it, feeling your pulse flutter against his palm while he stretched you open. He tried to keep it professional, throwing up walls of gruff indifference. But he was obsessed. He started finding excuses to be near you, to catch another whiff of your perfume, to see that heart-shaped neckline. He told himself it was just to ensure your safety, that he was just being a good LT. It was a blatant lie.

You weren't any better. You'd gone back to your room that first day and pressed your thighs together, your panties damp with arousal. You'd thought about the sheer power in his body, the gravel in his voice when he said 'got it.' The guys your own age were disappointing. They were fumbling, cocky boys who thought a quick rutt was the pinnacle of pleasure. They didn't have the knowing, dominant look in Simon's eyes. They didn't have hands that could probably snap you in half but would hold you with a surprising, possessive tenderness. You started trying to get his attention, wearing your hair down, choosing softer tops, 'accidentally' dropping your pen in front of him. You craved his gaze on you, the forbidden heat of it. You wanted to know if you affected a grown, hardened killer the way he affected you.

The breaking point came during a late-night gear check. The armory was empty, the only sound the hum of the fluorescent lights. You were checking your vest, your back to him, when he approached.

"Your strap's loose," he said, his voice close to your ear, the deep rumble vibrating through your spine.

You turned, and he was right there, a towering wall of muscle and barely restrained, older need. His eyes were dark, fixed on your mouth. "I can fix it," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs.

He didn't move. "Let me."

His hands, so large and calloused, moved to your hips, his thumbs brushing the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. The touch was electric. He pulled the strap tight with agonizing slowness, his knuckles intentionally dragging against the underside of your breast. Your breath hitched.

"Simon," you breathed, a question and a plea all at once.

"This is a bad idea," he growled against your lips, even as his hand slid up to palm your breast, squeezing it hard.

"The worst," you agreed, arching into his touch, your hands fumbling with his belt buckle.

The conversation that followed, between frantic kisses and discarded clothes, was the most honest you'd ever had. You told him about the immature boys, the unsatisfying encounters. He told you about the loneliness, the years of rigid discipline that had left him starved for a connection that wasn't just physical.

"I wanna be dirty with you," you confessed, your hand finally wrapping around the thick, heavy length of his cock. It was perfect—thick, so thick you could barely get your fingers wrapped around it, with a heavy, prominent vein that ran up the underside. The head was a flushed, angry red, leaking pre-cum constantly, a slick bead that you couldn't help but lean forward and lick away, savoring the salty, musky taste of him.

Simon hissed, his eyes rolling back.

"I wanna do all the things they were too scared to do."

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your fist. "You have no idea what you're askin' for, sweetheart."

"Show me," you demanded, dropping to your knees before him. "Show me how a real man fucks."

Si was a man of control, of discipline, but with you, that control shattered completely. He kissed you like he was starving, like he was trying to crawl down your throat. His tongue was everywhere, licking into your mouth, tasting you, demanding you taste him back. The kisses were wet, filthy, obscene. He sucked on your tongue, a groan rumbling in his chest that made your pussy clench around nothing.

When he had you naked, spread out for him on the armory table, the real depravity began. He loved your ass. He spanked it first, the sharp crack of his hand against your young flesh echoing in the room, leaving a red handprint that he'd later kiss better. You were writhing on the table, begging for more, for him, for anything.

Then he spread your cheeks, his breath hot against your most private place. "Simon, please," you whimpered, a mix of shame and desperate need in your voice.

He didn't answer with words. He just leaned down and licked a long, slow stripe over your tight hole. The sensation was so wrong, so intense, that you saw stars. He didn't just do it; he devoured you. His tongue was pointed and firm, pressing against the furled muscle, circling it, probing it. The sounds he made were utterly nasty—wet, lewd slurps and groans of pleasure as he ate your ass like it was his last meal.

And while he was doing that, his fingers were at your pussy, playing with your slick folds, spreading your wetness. He pushed two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot, all while his tongue was still working your ass. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, a mind-breaking pleasure that had you sobbing his name.

He didn't care about the mess. He didn't care about anything except making you fall apart. He talked to you while he did it, his voice a low, dirty murmur against your skin. "You like that, don't you, you dirty girl? Like an old man tongue-fuckin' your tight little arse? Gonna make you come so hard, babygirl."

And he did. Every single time. You came with a scream, your body shaking. And Simon, your perverted, perfect Simon, was right there to catch you, to hold you, and to whisper in your ear how much he loved his filthy little girl.

When he first pushed his dick inside you, it was a stretch that bordered on pain, a delicious, burning fullness that stole your breath. You had to claw at his back, your nails digging into the hard muscle as he worked himself in, inch by agonizing inch.

"Breathe, love," he groaned, his voice strained. "Just breathe. You can take it. You're gonna take all of this cock."

And you did. Because you wanted to. You needed to. Once he was fully seated, he paused, his massive body trembling with the effort of holding still. You felt it pulsing inside you, a hot, living thing, and you were already overwhelmed.

Then he started to move. He didn't fuck you fast at first. He fucked you deep. Long, slow, grinding strokes that hit so deep you swore you could feel him in your belly. He watched your face the entire time, his dark eyes cataloguing every twitch of your expression, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

"That's it," he praised, his voice a low, dark rumble. "Look at you, takin' my fat cock like you were made for it. Such a tight little pussy, squeezin' me so good."

He loved to make you beg. He pulled out almost completely, leaving you empty and aching, until you were a whimpering mess, your hips lifting off the surface, trying to get him back inside.

"Simon, please," you begged, tears of frustration pricking your eyes. "Please, I need it. I need your cock."

"Where do you need it, sweetheart?" he taunted, the head of his cock just nudging your entrance. "Tell me how much you want it."

"In my pussy," you sobbed, shameless. "Please, fuck my pussy with your big cock. I need you to fill me up."

That's when he slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace that had the structure around you rattling. The sounds were obscene—the wet slap of his skin against yours, your own high-pitched, youthful moans mixing with his deep, guttural grunts.

"That's my girl," he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive, grounding weight. "Ride my cock, baby. Take it all."

You did. You took everything he gave you, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, your whole body trembling with the force of his thrusts. He'd turned you into a trembling, begging mess, just like he wanted. He fucked you against the shelves, your legs wrapped around his waist, whispering the most depraved things in your ear.

"You like this, don't you? Like being fucked by an old pervert? God, you're so tight, so fuckin' perfect."

You were obsessed. You were addicted to the taste of him, the feel of him, the delicious wrongness of it all. You sucked his cock like it was your new religion, loving the way his hands would fist in your hair, the way he'd lose his composure, his quiet grunts turning into deep, guttural groans.

He was just as gone on you. The way you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as you swallowed him down, the way you screamed his name when he made you come, the way you begged for more—it was a fucking revelation. He'd never felt this desperate, this utterly consumed by someone whom he was actively corrupting.

And when he came, it was with a roar of your name. His cock jerked inside you, and you felt the hot, thick spurts of his cum painting your insides, so much of it that it started to leak out around his shaft, trickling down your thighs.

"Attagirl," he panted, his hips still moving, still fucking his cum deeper into you. "Fuck, I'm fillin' you up, baby. Gonna keep you full of me all night."

But the best part, the part that made you utterly his, was that he didn't stop. Even after he was finished, even after he had emptied himself inside you, his cock stayed hard. He kept moving, using his own cum as lube, the filthy, wet sounds getting louder, more lewd.

"Simon," you whimpered, overstimulated, your body already exhausted.

"One more," he grunted, his mouth crashing down on yours. "Gimme one more, sweetheart. I know you can. Cum on my cock again, fuck me empty, baby.”

And you did. You always did. You shattered around him again, your body a limp, sweaty, satisfied wreck. He was your LT, your pervert, your own personal drug, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You loved being his dirty little secret, the one he fucked into oblivion and then held so tenderly afterward.

It became your secret, a filthy, thrilling addiction. You'd find hidden corners of the base, steal moments between missions. He'd bend you over his desk, or you'd ride him in the front seat of his car in the darkened motor pool. The conversation flowed as freely as the sex, a mix of dark humor, shared trauma, and explicit fantasies. You'd talk about everything and nothing, your connection deepening with every dirty word and whispered confession.

One night, after a particularly grueling mission, you were both too exhausted to even make it to the bed. You lay on the floor of his quarters, a tangle of limbs and sweat-slick skin.

"I'm ruined for other men, you know," you murmured, tracing a scar on his chest. "No one's ever gonna fuck me like you do."

He let out a low, dark chuckle, pulling you closer. "Good," he rumbled, his lips brushing your temple. "Because I'm a selfish, perverted old man, and I'm never letting you go."

And in the quiet darkness, with the scent of sex and gun oil hanging in the air, you knew he was right. You were his, completely and utterly, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[lesserthan-3]

reader who isn’t the fastest, the strongest, or the best with a gun, but who’s known for being the smartest of the group.

and john soap mactavish who has reader of their back, deliberately thrusting into that spongy spot that had you cumming and squirting repeatedly throughout the night till a numbing haze completely takes over your head.

“goin’ dumb fa me, bon?”

he smiles when you don’t even have it in you to disagree. normally, you’d always had a witty remark ready for him but perhaps your jaw was too sore or your brain was just pure mush (or maybe both).

he taps your cheek twice, then three time more, urging you to open your eyes. “your eyes, I need them on me.”

you mewl as you can barely make out the fuzzy outline of his body standing tall over you. but perhaps you’re doing something right since he seems to chuckle with amusement.

he leans over you, pressing your legs towards your shoulders as his forearms find home on either side of your head. you groan deeply as you feel him slot himself even deeper inside you. who knew it was even possible?

his voice comes out low and gruff as he caresses your head. “that’s it, babygirl. don need that pretty brain of yours.”

[silverlullabies]

[did someone say they wanted hate sex with Gaz and former bully!Reader]

***

“Oh my God,” your friend hissed, elbowing you so hard you nearly spilled your drink. “Is that Kyle Garrick?”

You hadn’t planned on coming back to your shitty little hometown.

A messy breakup and your mum’s sixtieth had dragged you home for a couple of weeks, back to the same creaky house, the same faded wallpaper in your old bedroom, the same feeling that nothing and everything had changed. Boredom and half a bottle of cheap wine on a Friday night were what finally pushed you out the door and into the local pub when your friend suddenly elbowed you.

You turned and the floor dropped out from under you.

He was at the bar, back half turned, one elbow resting on the scarred wood. Broad shoulders. Narrow waist. Jeans that actually fit an ass instead of hanging off nothing. The faded black henley stretched across muscle that hadn’t existed when he was seventeen. Short hair, military fade growing out on top. When he glanced sideways to answer the bartender, you caught the clean line of his jaw, the straight nose, the mouth.

No glasses. No acne. No wonky teeth flashing metal every time he spoke.

Kyle fucking Garrick.

The same boy whose glasses you used to rip off his face in the middle of the hallway and hold above your head while your friends laughed. The same lanky kid you’d nicknamed Gaz the Spaz until even the teachers stopped correcting it. The same boy you’d cornered after school one day and made repeat “I’m a worthless loser who will never get laid” three times while you filmed it on your shitty flip phone.

You’d heard he enlisted one summer and laughed, “They’ll either kick him out for being a pussy or he’ll die in some shithole and do the world a favour.”

He felt your stare now. Turned slowly.

Recognition hit first. Then something colder, sharper, older. His eyes, dark, dragged over you and something in your cunt clenched tight.

You should have stayed in the booth.

Instead you slid out, heart hammering, and walked over on unsteady legs. The cheap wine was already buzzing warm behind your ribs, making everything feel a little too bright, a little too loud.

“Kyle,” you said when you reached him, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. Your voice came out breathy. “Wow. You look… different.”

You don’t remember exactly how the rest of the night unfolded, not really.

One drink became three. Then four. Your friends eventually peeled off, leaving you at the bar with him. He stayed sober, nursing the same pint for hours, watching you get looser and louder in that old familiar way that used to feel like power and now just felt pathetic next to him.

He just sipped his drink and looked at you with those calm, dark eyes until your stomach twisted and your thighs pressed together under the bar.

At some point his hand settled on your lower back, warm and heavy in a way that made your drunk brain short circuit, universal sign for your coming home with me.

Now the front door of your parents house clicks shut behind you and the world narrows to this:

You’re on your hands and knees over the arm of the old floral couch in the living room, skirt shoved up around your waist, panties gone, and Kyle Garrick buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

No preamble. No slow build. One second you’re stumbling through the door on drunk legs, the next he has you bent, shoving his cock in with one long, brutal thrust that punched the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck- Kyle!”

“Gaz,” he corrects, voice low and perfectly controlled. One big hand presses between your shoulder blades, pinning your chest to the couch arm while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. He’s still fully dressed, jeans open just enough, henley rucked up, while you’re half stripped and already drooling onto the faded floral fabric. “And you’re going to stay right here and take every inch you said no one would ever want.”

He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. The wet sound is loud from the very first thrust. You’re soaked- humiliatingly, traitorously soaked- and every stroke makes it worse. Cream coats his cock and starts dripping down your thighs in shiny streaks that catch the low lamplight.

Your mind is fuzzy with wine, thoughts slipping and sliding, but the memories rise anyway, uninvited, triggered by every deep, punishing thrust.

Sticking your foot out as he walked past carrying his books. He went down hard, papers scattering everywhere, knees and palms scraping the dirty floor.

Thrust.

“Look at Gaz crawling for it like the dog he is- bet that’s the closest he’s ever got to a bitch.”

Thrust. Harder.

His dark eyes dragging over youes at the bar. “Didn’t expect to see the girl who told the whole school during lunch I had a micro dick…”

He fucks you like he’s been waiting ten years for this exact moment, almost cruel in the way he angles his hips to grind against the soft spongy spot inside you most men can’t reach, the one that makes your vision blur.

Your mouth falls open. Spit floods out, soaking the cushion under your cheek in a steady, shiny pool. You can’t close it. Can’t stop the little broken sounds spilling out every time he bottoms out.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, calm as anything, like he’s not currently rearranging your insides. “Your cunt’s drooling for me. Just like it used to when you’d stare at me after you finished humiliating me in front of everyone.”

Another memory surfaces, sharp and vicious, dragged up by the stretch of his cock and the steady grind of his hips:

Frog dissection day, voice loud and carrying in the middle of lab, suggesting to the entire class that Gaz was probably going to smuggle one of the frogs home so he could fuck it, “because that’s the only pussy he’ll ever get in his miserable life.” The whole room erupted. People started making wet, disgusting noises every time he walked past for weeks.

Gaz’s hips snap forward harder on the echo of that laughter, burying himself so deep your knees slip on the rug.

“You made sure everyone knew exactly what you thought I deserved,” he says, voice still so fucking calm it makes your skin crawl. “Told the whole class the freak could only get off with something dead and cold. And now here you are: drunk and bent over like a cheap slut for the same loser. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, but your body betrays you, hips pushing back to meet his thrusts, cunt fluttering and gushing around him with every stroke, running down your thighs in messy rivulets. Your mouth is a wreck, spit pouring freely, soaking the cushion until it’s dark and wet under your face.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” he continues, almost conversational, one hand sliding from your hip to reach under you and rub tight circles over your clit while he keeps pounding. “You bullied me because you were obsessed with me. That’s why your cunt’s sobbing all over my cock right now. Couldn’t stay away even after ten years. Couldn’t stop thinking about the freak you tried to bury.”

A fresh wave of memory hits, triggered by the way his fingers are working your clit in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts and the low, satisfied sound he makes when you clench around him:

The week you decided the entire school would blank him. No one was allowed to speak to him, sit with him, or even look at him. Told everyone it was a “social experiment” to see how long he would last before he cracked. He ate lunch alone every single day. Raised his hand in class and got ignored. Walked the corridors while people deliberately ran into him like he was invisible.

Gaz leans over your back, chest pressing you down harder, lips right against your ear.

“Say it,” he murmurs, almost sweet. “Say ‘Thank you, Gaz, for fucking trash like me.’”

You choke on a moan, drunk and wrecked and so fucking full. “Th-thank you- Gaz- for fucking trash line me- ”

“Good girl.” He rewards you with a few slower, deeper rolls of his hips that make your eyes roll back. “Now show me how sorry you really are.”

Your orgasm rips through you without warning: violent, humiliating, unstoppable. Your cunt clamps down hard, gushing fresh wetness around his cock, more cream flooding out and dripping down your thighs in thick, shiny trails. Your mouth falls open wider and you drool, a long continuous moan muffled in the soaked cushion while you shake and sob through it.

He doesn’t stop. Fucks you straight through it, calm and relentless, grinding deep every time your walls flutter.

When the aftershocks finally ease he flips you onto your back on the couch without pulling out, hooking your legs over his shoulders and folding you nearly in half. The new angle punches a broken sound out of you. Your head lolls, mouth still open and drooling down your cheek and into your hair.

“Now you can watch,” he says, dark eyes locked on yours as he starts moving again. “Watch the loser you tried to destroy ruin you.”

Every thrust is deep and deliberate, cunt making filthy wet sounds every time he pulls back. More of your cream and his pre leaks out, soaking the couch beneath you.

“You’re going to cum again,” he tells you, voice low and certain. “And when you do, you’re going to thank me for it. Because deep down you always knew this was how it would end. The guy you tortured finally putting you in your place.”

Your second orgasm builds terrifyingly fast under the relentless pressure and the psychological assault. When it hits you wail, cunt pulsing and drooling fresh cream down his shaft, eyes rolling, spit leaking down your chin.

Gaz watches you fall apart with dark, satisfied eyes.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Drool for me. Both ends. Just like I used to imagine when I was jerking off to the thought of ruining you one day.”

He reaches down, wipes the spit from your cunt with his thumb, and pushes the digit between your lips.

“Suck. Taste how pathetic you are.”

You do, eyes glassy, sucking your own juices off his thumb while he keeps fucking you.

He pulls his thumb free after a moment and grips your throat lightly, leaning down until his forehead touches yours.

“I’m not done with you,” he says softly, almost tenderly, while his hips never stop moving. “Not even close. You owe me years of apologies. And I’m going to fuck every single one of them out of this lying little cunt until you’re too wrecked to remember your own name.”

[silverlullabies]

Simon Riley is normally so silent.

He moves through the world like he was never meant to be perceived. Six-foot-four of solid weight, and still he makes no sound- boots on concrete, boots on hardwood, boots on the shitty carpet and there’s no creak, no scuff. Just the occasional low grunt when he’s forced to answer a question, and even then it’s the bare minimum.

Until he’s inside you.

The second the blunt, flushed head of his cock presses against your cunt and starts to push in, something in him fractures. The stretch is obscene, always is. He’s thick enough that your body has to work for it, plush walls yielding inch by inch while your thighs tremble around his hips. And that’s when the first sound rips out of him.

A whimper, low and broken, like it hurts to feel this good.

His hands are braced on either side of your head, arms shaking with the effort of going slow, ragged drag of breath through clenched teeth as he sinks deeper, deeper, until his hips are flush against the soft give of your ass and he’s buried to the hilt in the tight, wet heat of you.

“Fuck- !”

It’s barely a word. More a punched out groan. His forehead drops to yours, burning against your skin for half a second before he turns his face into your neck and the he moves.

And Simon Riley- quiet, deadly, minimum words Simon Riley- babbles.

Every thrust causes a low, desperate moan when you clench around him. A sharp, bitten off whimper when the head of his cock drags over that spot inside you that makes your vision white out. His hips roll in deep, grinding strokes at first, like he’s trying to savor it, make it last, but the second you hook your ankles behind his back and pull him closer, the control shatters.

“Christ- fuckin’ hell, loveie- ” His voice is thick and slurring. “So good- s’fuckin’ good- can’t- can’t think- ”

One hand slides down between your bodies, palm spreading wide over the soft meat of your thigh, fingers sinking in hard, holding you open so he can watch the way your cunt stretches around his cock on every thrust. The wet, filthy sound of it fills the room, skin on skin, punctuated by the broken noises falling from his mouth.

He doesn’t hold back, knows you can take him, the brutal pace, the way his heavy balls slap against you with every snap of his hips. Your body yields so perfectly under the weight of him, soft and warm and real, and it undoes him completely.

“Love this- love how you feel- fuckin’ love it- ” The words tumble out between ragged moans, half coherent, desperate. “So soft- gonna fuck you proper- Christ, you just take it- ”

Your walls flutter around him and he whines, high and needy, the sound muffled against your throat. His rhythm stutters, then picks up, fucking you harder, deeper, the bedframe knocking against the wall in time with his thrusts. You can feel every shaky exhale, every broken whimper vibrating through his chest where it’s crushed to yours.

“Gonna- fuck- gonna come if you keep- ah- keep doin’ that- ” He’s babbling now, voice cracking, hips driving into you. “Feels too good- too fuckin’ good- can’t- can’t stop- don’t want to stop- “

When he finally breaks, it’s with a ragged, drawn out moan, massive frame seizing up, hips grinding deep as he spills inside you in thick, pulsing waves. Stays buried, shaking, letting out these soft, helpless whimpers every time your cunt squeezes around him through the aftershocks.

Only when the last tremor passes does the silence creep back in.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just presses his face into the crook of your neck, breathing hard, one big hand stroking slow and soothing over your hip, body trembling, cock twitching inside you with every tiny aftershock.

No, for those few minutes when he’s buried deep in the warm, plush heat of your cunt, Simon Riley isn’t quiet at all.

[hijkio]

Zuko

[coopiesandcream]

Cool For The Summer // König COD

Summary: König and Gaz are assigned to travel to an island where their target is currently staying. However, König became distracted when he saw you at the beach wearing only a bikini.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, AGE-GAP, AU, HEAVY SMUT, explicit content, mature language, sexual innuendo, erotic, mention of jerking off, cum eating, mutual pining, obsession, lots of teasing, manhandling, choking, spanking, reverse power dynamic, submissive, petname, dirty talk, degradation, oral activities, multiple penetration, unprotected, PiV, squirting, spanking, fingering, blowjob, overstimulation, breeding, markings, rough sex, older man x younger woman

König stood at the edge of the sun-bleached boardwalk on a sleepy Hawaiian island, the kind of place where time moved like warm honey. His massive frame was poorly disguised in a loud floral shirt that strained across his chest, cargo shorts, and a wide-brimmed hat perched awkwardly over his hood.

The mask stayed as he looked like a very tall and very suspicious tourist who had lost a bet.

“ Status, König.” Price’s gravelly voice crackled through the earpiece.

“ You’ve been ‘admiring the view’ for twenty bloody minutes. The cartel leader isn’t hiding in the bloody clouds.”

“ Trying to blend in, Captain.” König muttered.

“ It's hard when I am built like…this.” He gestured vaguely at his own seven-foot silhouette.

“ Children have been staring. One asked if I was a lifeguard. I do not even swim.”

A snort from Soap came through the comms. “ Big Austrian laddie in a Hawaiian shirt. Aye, perfectly inconspicuous. Ghost owes me twenty quid if ye get recognized before sundown.”

“ Focus.” Price growled.

“ Locals. House. Now.”

König sighed and approached a group of aunties selling shaved ice near the beach path. He tilted his head while playing the curious tourist.

“ Excuse me, that big house up on the point? Very beautiful. New?”

The women lit up. “ Oh, the big one? It belongs to a foreigner. A Mexican gentleman, I think. Come and go. Very generous, that one. He donated a new generator for the community center last month.”

König’s jaw tightened beneath the mask.

Generous.

The same man whose network had funneled enough product across borders to drown cities and left bodies in its wake. Task Force 141 had chased his shadow for years and now the bastard was here while playing benefactor.

“ Very kind.” König said smoothly.

“ Good to see. Danke.”

He thanked them and retreated to a shaded lounge chair under swaying palms while pretending to relax. The ocean glittered like shattered sapphires. For a moment, the mission noise in his ear faded.

Until she emerged from the water.

She rose like the sea itself had decided to show off. The water cascaded down sun-kissed skin and tracing every curve as she walked up the sand.

A simple black bikini clung to her like a second skin. Her full hips swayed with unconscious grace while her breasts drew his gaze before he could stop himself. The thin fabric left nothing to the imagination when the clear outline of her nipples tightened by the cool breeze made heat slam into his gut like a rifle stock.

König’s head tilted slowly as his mouth went dry.

“ Scheiße…” He breathed.

“ What was that?” Price snapped.

“ Nothing. Just…scenery.”

She laughed at something one of her friends said while reaching for a towel. The motion lifted her arms and arched her back. König shifted in his seat when he suddenly felt uncomfortable in his shorts.

He imagined those curves under his hands, the way she’d feel pressed against his much larger frame, soft against hard.

How she might sound if—

Her eyes met his. It's direct and curious with a spark of something that looked a lot like amusement. She paused mid-wipe as the towel hovering over her collarbone.

For two full seconds the world narrowed to that stare, König jerked his head away so fast his hat nearly flew off. Under the mask, his face burned as the sweat prickled at his temples. He could still feel her gaze like a physical touch.

Price’s voice cut through again. “ König. More intel. Stop gawking at the bloody tourists and do your job.”

“ I am doing my job...” He hissed back.

“ Unlike certain captains who only bark from a safe distance.”

Soap cackled. “ He’s got ye there, Cap.”

“ Shut it, both of you.” Price said, but there was a thread of dark humor in it.

“ König, if you blow this because you’re chasing tail—”

“ I am not chasing anything.” König muttered, but he couldn’t help one last glance.

She was still watching him with a small and knowing smile playing on her lips as she draped the towel over her shoulders. The motion did nothing to hide how the wet fabric clung to her chest that made his pulse hammered.

He wanted to walk over, introduce himself properly, and see if that spark in her eyes would ignite under his shadow. Instead he kept moving while every step fighting the magnetic pull backward.

The elegant house loomed further up the beach, white walls glowing in the sun. It's the target’s temporary fortress, König’s mission, and the reason he was here.

Yet as he disappeared down the path toward the village when the image of her rising from the waves burned behind his eyes. The way her body moved or the way she’d looked at him.

“ Focus.” He told himself.

But the heat in his veins whispered otherwise and the mission had just become far more complicated.

…

König pushed open the door to their rented beachside hotel room, the floral shirt still clinging awkwardly to his broad chest from the humid Hawaiian air. Gaz was sprawled on one of the beds while flipping through a local newspaper with a lazy grin.

“ Finally. Took you long enough, big guy.” Kyle said.

“ So? What did you get on the cartel leader?”

König dropped into a creaking chair that barely contained his massive frame and sighed heavily. “ Basic information only. The locals think he is some generous foreigner. Donating generators, smiling at everyone. He plays their minds well. Hides behind charity like a shield.”

Gaz whistled low. “ Smart bastard. I dug around too. There’ve been a string of ‘disappearances’ and shipments moving through the docks lately. Local government’s doing jack shit about it. Probably getting fat envelopes to look the other way.”

“ Likely.” König muttered while rubbing the back of his neck under the hood.

“ We must be careful. His alliances run high. One wrong move and the whole island could turn on us.”

The room fell quiet for a beat of the distant sound of waves and laughter filtering through the open balcony door. Then Gaz’s smirk returned sharp and mischievous.

“ Alright, enough shop talk. I gotta admit, mate…this mission is kicking my ass in the worst way. All these gorgeous ladies on the beach? They are flirting left and right. One even slipped me her number while I was pretending to check out snorkel gear. It's hard to stay focused when the view’s that good.”

König shot him a flat look. “ We are here for surveillance, Sergeant. Not to flirt with locals or tourists.”

Gaz rolled his eyes dramatically. “ Oh, please. As if you didn’t spot someone while you were ‘blending in.’ I saw the way your eyes went all wide behind that mask when you came back. Dilated like dinner plates. Don’t even try to deny it.”

König shifted uncomfortably, the memory of her rising from the water flashing hot across his mind. The way the black bikini had clung to every curve, the visible peaks of her nipples, and the sway of her hips.

“ I…saw a woman.” He admitted gruffly.

“ At the beach. She came out of the water while wearing a damn bikini.”

Gaz barked out a laugh. “ Go on then. Details, König. Was she fit?”

“ She was beautiful.” König said.

“ Like a goddess walking out of the sea. Her curves…perfect. The way she moved…” He trailed off while clenching his jaw. He could still feel the phantom heat of her gaze meeting his, that small knowing smile.

Kyle was grinning like an idiot now. “ My big masked buddy’s got a crush on a beach girl. Never thought I’d see the day. While you’re here in Hawaii, you should shoot your shot. Pull some moves. Bed her if you can. Release some of that…tension you’re always carrying.”

König shoved Gaz’s shoulder hard enough to make him rock back on the bed, though not enough to actually hurt. “ We are here to end a mission, not fuck random women. Focus, Gaz.”

“ Fucking killjoy.” Gaz laughed while rubbing his shoulder.

“ Lighten up. The cartel leader isn’t going anywhere tonight. I’m gonna head out, breathe some fresh air, and act like a normal person for a bit. You should try it sometime.”

He stood and headed for the door. Just before stepping out, he paused with a wicked grin. “ Oh, and if you’re gonna jerk off thinking about your sea goddess…don’t leave any traces, yeah? I sleep in that bed too.”

“ Kyle!” König snarled while lunging up from the chair. He aimed a half-hearted kick at the sergeant’s legs, but Gaz was quicker. The door slammed shut and the lock clicked just as König reached it.

“ Arschloch!” König cursed while banging a fist against the wood. Gaz’s laughter echoed down the hallway then fading quickly.

Silence settled back over the room. König exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead against the door. He could picture her so clearly like when the water slid down her skin, the thin fabric stretched tight over her breasts, and that eye contact felt like a spark against dry tinder.

He turned away from the door and paced the small room when the floor creaked under his weight. The mission came first. But his mind kept drifting back to her curves, her smile, and the way his body had reacted so violently to a single glance.

“ Scheiße…” He muttered while glancing toward the balcony where the ocean glittered under the setting sun.

He wouldn’t act on Gaz’s stupid advice. He couldn’t, but the image of her refused to leave. And deep down, part of him wondered what would happen if their paths crossed again.

…

The air was warm, thick with salt and distant barbecue smoke. König wandered back down to the beach as evening painted the Hawaiian sky in deep oranges and purples as he told himself it was for reconnaissance. The elegant house on the point needed watching. In truth, his eyes scanned every group of swimmers and sunbathers for one specific figure.

He didn’t have to wait long.

A cluster of kids spotted the seven-foot giant in the mask and floral shirt immediately when they swarmed him like curious gulls.

“ Mister, why are you wearing a mask?” One boy asked.

“ Are you a terrorist?”

“ Do you have an ugly face?” A girl added bluntly.

König scratched the back of his head.

“ It is…a special condition.” He rumbled.

“ If anyone looks at my bare face, they will turn to stone. Like Medusa, ja?”

The children screamed and bolted toward their parents while crying dramatically. König chuckled darkly and waving them off.

“ Run along, little brats.”

“ Nice work.” A warm female voice said behind him.

“ Scaring children on a peaceful beach. Really setting the tourist vibe.”

König stiffened and turned. There she was…she's wearing a light sundress that fluttered in the breeze. The thin straps and low neckline offered a dangerous view of sun-kissed cleavage.

His throat went dry.

“ I did not mean to scare them so badly.” He muttered.

“ They were…persistent.”

Y/n crossed her arms, which only pressed her breasts together more noticeably. “ They’re just kids. Curious. You’re the only guy on the whole island wearing a mask at sunset.”

König shifted on his feet. “ I have a skin condition. Very sensitive. And I do not wish to scare people with how I look underneath.”

Her expression softened. “ Oh. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

She stuck out her hand. “ I’m Y/n L/n. I just moved here from the city. I needed peace and this island…it feels like home now.”

He took her hand carefully when his massive gloved fingers engulfed hers, the contact sent a jolt straight through him.

“ Krueger.” He lied, using the first name that came to mind.

“ I am here to clear my head too. I work as an architect…it can be stressful.”

Y/n’s smile brightened. “ A giant architect in Hawaii? That’s a nice change of pace. I’m glad you’re giving yourself time to breathe.”

Their conversation flowed easily, but König was barely holding it together. Every time she laughed or leaned in when his gaze dropped to the soft swell of her breasts as the dress clung in all the right places. His shorts grew tighter with every word and every glimpse.

He wanted to pull her close, feel those curves against his body, and hear what sounds she’d make—

“ Y/n! Dinner’s ready!” Her friends called from further down the beach.

She glanced back, then turned to him hopefully. “ Want to join us? It’s nothing fancy.”

König shook his head. “ Thank you, but I am fasting. Strict diet.”

Y/n laughed. “ That explains the size. Alright, Krueger. Hope we bump into each other again soon.”

She waved, then jogged toward her friends as the sundress swayed with her hips. The moment she was out of earshot, König let out a long and shaky breath. His cock strained painfully against his shorts when the image of her cleavage so close, her voice, and her scent…it was torture.

“ Status, König.” Price’s voice suddenly cut through the earpiece.

König startled. “ Nothing new, Captain.”

A new voice exploded in his ear. “ You used my fucking name?! Krueger?! To chat up an island girl?!”

Krueger’s outrage made König wince. In the background, Soap was already howling.

“ Ohhh, Krueger…” Soap moaned dramatically in a high-pitched voice.

“ Harder, Krueger! Your big Austrian co—”

“ Shut the fuck up!” Price barked.

“ All of you. This is a mission channel, not a comedy show.”

König’s face burned under the mask. “ You bastards. I needed a cover name. It was the first one I thought of.”

Gaz’s voice joined in. “ Bet she liked it. ‘Krueger’ does sound moanable. König sounds like you’re clearing your throat mid-thrust.”

“ Gaz, I will end you” König growled, pacing the sand.

Soap kept going, undeterred. “ Krueger~ Right there, big guy—”

Price sighed heavily. “ Soap, one more word and I’m pulling you from the op. König, get your head back in the game. Focus on the target house, not the local talent.”

“ Copy.” König muttered, still blushing furiously. He cursed under his breath in German. The ache between his legs hadn’t faded. If anything, the team’s bullshit made the frustration sharper.

This mission was becoming far more complicated than any of them had anticipated.

…

Days had blurred into a tense routine on the island, but tonight the stakes sharpened. König and Gaz lay prone in the thick vegetation of a secluded ridge overlooking the elegant beachfront house when the cartel leader had arrived under cover of darkness.

“ Target confirmed on site.” Gaz reported quietly into the comms with binoculars pressed to his eyes.

“ Multiple guards, but keeping a low profile. He’s out on the patio right now, shaking hands with locals like a damn philanthropist.”

Price’s voice came through steady. “ Good work. The rest of the team will move in once we finalize the extraction or termination plan. Keep feeding us every detail. Do not engage until we give the green light.”

“ Copy.” Both men replied.

König adjusted his position while his massive frame made the bushes rustle slightly. “ He is two-faced. Playing the generous rich man for the locals. Classic tactic.”

“ Yeah.” Gaz muttered.

“ Most criminals do that. Win the hearts and minds first. Then when shit hits the fan, the same people they fooled will defend them instead of running.”

König grunted in agreement. “ Exactly. They get sympathy and control the narrative. When chaos comes, the victims become shields.”

Gaz chuckled darkly. “ I've seen the same shit in governments too. Those bastards use their power, play everyone like puppets, then cry victim when they get caught. The audacity is almost impressive.”

“ Power and money is enough to buy silence and bury the truth.” König replied.

They gathered what they could by guard rotations, vehicle placements, or possible weak points. After nearly an hour, Gaz nudged him. “ We’ve got enough for tonight. Report the rest to Price in the morning. Let’s head back before we get spotted.”

König nodded as they slipped away silently while moving through the shadows toward the hotel path. The warm Hawaiian night wrapped around them, carrying distant music and the scent of ocean air. Gaz suddenly stopped and nudged König hard then handed over the binoculars with a sly grin.

“ Oi, look who’s here. Prime view for you, mate.”

König took the binoculars and scanned the small beach clearing. Y/n sat with her friends around a crackling campfire while roasting s’mores. The firelight danced across her skin, highlighting the easy laugh that tilted her head back.

She wore a loose tank top and shorts, the fabric slipping off one shoulder to reveal the smooth curve of her collarbone and the soft swell of her breasts beneath. Every time she leaned forward to laugh or reach for another marshmallow and the neckline dipped dangerously.

“ Fuck…” König whispered.

Her smile, the way her body moved with natural grace, or the glow on her cheeks; it hit him like a gut punch. A heat flooded his system instantly as his cock twitched and hardened rapidly while pressing insistently against his shorts.

Gaz let out a low whistle. “ Careful with that spying, big guy. You’re veering into creepy pervert territory. And mate…look down at your shorts. The big trunk is pitching a full tent right now.”

König glanced down. The prominent bulge was impossible to miss, straining obscenely against the thin fabric. He cursed under his breath in German, face burning beneath the mask.

Gaz laughed, pulling off the light scarf he’d been wearing and shoving it at König. “ Here. Wrap this around your hips like a sarong or something. Hide the evidence before kids think you’re smuggling a python in your pants.”

“ You are an asshole.” König growled, but he took the scarf and quickly tied it around his waist, adjusting it to conceal the obvious arousal.

Even then, the pressure didn’t ease. Watching Y/n lick melted chocolate from her fingers while smiling at her friends only made it worse. He imagined pulling her away from the fire, those soft curves under his hands, and her voice moaning his real name instead of the fake one.

“ Stop staring like a starving man.” Gaz teased, slapping his shoulder.

“ We need to get back to the hotel. You’ve got something urgent to take care of in the bathroom, yeah? Don’t make it weird with the sheets.”

“ Kyle, I swear I will throw you into the ocean.” König muttered, shoving him forward.

Gaz just grinned wider as they continued toward the hotel. “ What? I’m being helpful. You’ve been wound tighter than a spring since you saw her the first time. Go on, jerk one out to your campfire goddess. Just don’t think about her while we’re sharing the room later.”

König’s fists clenched.

Mission first since the cartel leader was here and the team was closing in. Yet every encounter with Y/n made focus nearly impossible. Her laugh echoed in his mind, the firelight on her skin, and the way her body looked so inviting.

By the time they reached the hotel door, König was still half-hard despite the scarf.

“ Shut up and report to Price.” He grumbled, pushing past Gaz.

But as he stripped off the scarf later in the privacy of the bathroom, her image refused to leave. The mission, the danger, and this maddening woman were colliding in ways that threatened to break his control.

…

The drums thundered when the people danced wildly. In darker corners, couples ground against each other, some already slipping away into the shadows for more. König and Gaz moved through the pulsing beach celebration the next evening, the island alive with music, firelight, and bodies.

“ Target’s here.” Gaz reported quietly.

“ Far end of the main bar area, surrounded by locals and guards pretending to be guests.”

Price’s voice crackled in their ears. “ Stay close but blend in. The troops are moving into position. Any moment now. Disguise as locals…no one notices another drunk tourist tonight. Soap, Horangi, and Krueger are already in the crowd. Ghost’s with me checking escape routes. We trap him if he runs.”

“ Copy.” König muttered.

Gaz smirked. “ Are you joining the party, Cap?”

“ I’m never absent for this kind of operation.” Price replied dryly.

“ Now focus.”

The crowd surged when a group of women immediately latched onto Gaz while pulling him toward the drinks.

“ Come dance with us, handsome!”

They laughed then Gaz shot König a helpless shrug and let himself be dragged away, already laughing with them.

“ Traitor.” König grumbled under his breath.

“ Oi, don’t hate the player.” Gaz’s voice came through the comms, clearly enjoying himself.

“ Mission requires mingling, yeah?”

König pushed through the crowd while scanning for the cartel leader, when he suddenly bumped into a warm and familiar body.

Y/n looked up at him and her face lit up with a bright smile. “ Krueger! I knew a mysterious giant like you would show up. Been waiting to see if you’d appear.”

He froze for a second, heat already stirring at the sight of her. She wore a short, flowing dress that hugged her curves and showed plenty of leg and cleavage.

“ I…got curious.” He admitted.

She laughed, the sound cutting through the music like a hook. “ Then I’ll make sure your curiosity is worth it.”

Before he could protest, she grabbed his massive hand and dragged him toward a small tiki bar.

“ Two of the strongest ones!” She ordered.

“ I should not—” König started.

“ Drink. Celebrate. You overthink too much.” She insisted, pushing the glass into his hand.

He sighed and downed it. The liquor burned straight down, spreading fire through his veins.

She clapped excitedly and ordered another round. “ That’s the strongest on the island. Think you can handle it, German guy?”

“ I am Austrian, not German.” He corrected after the second shot.

Y/n gasped, then burst into giggles.

“ Sorry! Austrian. Even better.” She took her own shot, eyes sparkling.

They talked about mostly her telling stories about city life and why she escaped to the island, König listening, nodding, and trying to keep his eyes off the way her breasts moved when she laughed and the alcohol hit hard. Soon both of them were drunk, the world tilting pleasantly.

“ Come on.” She said, grabbing his wrist.

“ Dance with me.”

“ I cannot dance.” He protested.

“ Nobody gives a fuck if you’re good or bad!” She yanked him into the crowd.

At first he moved stiffly, a towering awkward giant. Then the music shifted to something slower and heavier.

Y/n turned, pressing her back against his front while swaying her hips. The contact was electric as she grew bolder while grinding against him and her ass rolling teasingly into his groin. Her hands reached back, tracing his hard chest through the shirt.

“ You know…” She whispered.

“ When I first saw you on the beach…you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Even with the damn mask. You looked so fuckable. If I didn’t have any self-control, I would’ve dragged you somewhere and fucked you right there.”

König stiffened, a low growl escaping him. His cock surged to full hardness instantly and throbbing against her.

“ You are drunk.” He managed.

Y/n chuckled, turning in his arms to face him. Her body molded to his is your soft curves against solid muscle.

“ I’m not drunk. I’m horny…and I want you to fuck me, Krueger.”

She rolled her hips forward, grinding her pelvis directly against his massive erection. One hand slid down boldly and cupped the thick bulge straining in his shorts, squeezing lightly.

“ Damn, you’re so hard already. Feel that? I can tell you want it too.”

König’s breath hitched. His large hands gripped her waist while his fingers dug in as he fought the overwhelming urge to lift her, pin her against the nearest palm tree, and bury himself inside her right there. Her hand stroked him through the fabric, whispering filthy promises about how wet she was, how big he felt, and how she wanted him to stretch her open.

He was seconds from losing control.

In his ear, the comms exploded with chaos.

“ Focus, you two!” Price barked.

“ We’ve got movement on the target.”

Gaz’s amused voice cut in. “ Mate, I can see you from here. That scarf’s not hiding shit now.”

Soap, clearly grinning, moaned dramatically. “ Krueeegeerr~ Harder, big guy—”

“ Shut it!” Krueger’s real voice snapped through the line.

“ Stop using my name for your island booty call!”

König’s face burned crimson under the mask even as Y/n continued grinding against him, her fingers teasing the outline of his cock. The mission, the incoming assault, the cartel leader and all of it clashed violently with the raw, aching need pulsing between them.

He held her tighter with his hips involuntarily rocking once against her hand, a barely suppressed groan rumbling in his chest.

The night was far from over.

…

König’s control snapped the moment Y/n whispered those filthy words against his mouth. Their kiss turned savage, teeth clashing while their tongues fighting for dominance. He devoured her like a starving man, groaning deep in his chest as she ate at his soul right back, fingers clawing into his broad shoulders.

She grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the pulsing crowd, stumbling through the dark toward a small, empty beach cabin far from the party lights.

The door barely clicked shut before he was on her again. König lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing, and dropped her onto the narrow bed.

“ One second.” He muttered, reaching up to kill his comms link.

“ I do not need their bullshit right now.”

He folded the lower part of his mask up just enough to free his mouth, revealing a strong jaw and scarred lips. His huge hands moved with urgent hunger, yanking her dress down and tossing it aside. The sight of her bare breasts made him groan loudly.

“ Fuck…I have imagined these for days.” He palmed one roughly, squeezing the soft flesh, then latched onto a nipple.

He sucked hard, tongue flicking and teeth grazing while his other hand kneaded the other breast. Y/n moaned, arching into his mouth. He left dark purple hickeys blooming across her tits, marking her possessively.

“ You’re so wild.” She gasped while laughing breathlessly.

“ Like you haven’t fucked anyone in years.”

“ Because I haven’t.” He growled against her skin, sucking another bruise.

“ Not like this.”

König kissed down her stomach, rough and impatient, until he reached her cunt. He shoved her thighs apart and buried his face between them like a man possessed. His tongue licked broad stripes up her slit before focusing on her clit then sucking greedily. Y/n cried out, gripping the edge of his mask hard as her hips bucked.

“ Shit…Krueger!”

He pushed two thick, long fingers inside her without warning, curling them deep. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingering filled the small cabin as he pumped them faster.

“ Call me König.” He ordered, voice dark and rough as he hovered over her and his lips glistening with her arousal.

She blinked through the haze. “ I thought…you said Krueger—”

“ Krueger is my second name.” He lied smoothly, scissoring his fingers deeper.

“ König sounds better when you moan it.”

She tried to talk back but he curled his fingers harder against that perfect spot, turning her words into a broken cry. His pace turned punishing, fingers drilling into her soaked pussy while his free hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes flutter.

“ Look at you…” He snarled.

“ Such a pretty little slut hiding behind that innocent face. Been teasing me for days with these tits and this greedy cunt. You wanted to be fucked like a whore, didn’t you?”

Y/n whimpered, nodding frantically as her walls clenched around his fingers when the pressure built unbearably fast.

“ You’re going to cum like a desperate bitch for me.” He growled, tightening his grip on her throat while his fingers slammed harder.

“ That’s it. Cum on my fingers like the filthy girl you are.”

She shattered with a choked scream, body convulsing. König didn’t stop. He kept drilling his fingers through her orgasm until he suddenly pulled them out then a powerful gush of squirt sprayed across his hand and the sheets.

“ Fuuuck!” He cursed.

He slapped her breast hard while watching it jiggle. “ Dirty bitch. Hiding that innocent smile while you squirt like a slut.”

Still riding the high, Y/n trembled as König dove back down, licking and sucking up every drop of her release with filthy enthusiasm. His tongue pushed inside her twitching hole, prolonging the aftershocks until she was gasping and oversensitive.

He finally pulled back, breathing hard when his massive bulge strained painfully against his shorts. The thick outline was unmistakable. Y/n’s eyes locked onto it with raw hunger, her chest heaving, marked breasts rising and falling.

The comms were off, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the team was probably losing their minds trying to reach him. Right now, though, none of it mattered. Only her wet cunt, her marked tits, and the desperate need to bury himself inside her existed.

König stood up, towering over the bed as he started undoing his shorts, eyes burning with unrestrained lust.

“ This is only the beginning, schatz.” He rumbled.

“ I am going to ruin you tonight.”

König shoved his shorts down, finally freeing himself. His massive cock sprang up, thick, veiny, and heavy, twitching against his toned stomach. The sheer size made Y/n’s eyes widen.

“ Fuck…” She breathed.

“ You’re huge. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

A low, arrogant chuckle rumbled from his chest. He folded the lower half of his mask higher, watching with dark hunger as she dropped to her knees in front of him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her small hand wrapped around his thick shaft, barely able to close her fingers around it. König groaned deeply, head falling back as she started pumping him.

“ Scheiße…your hand feels good.”

Y/n smirked up at him, spitting generously on his cock before leaning in. She licked the swollen head like a lollipop, swirling her tongue around the sensitive tip while stroking the rest of his length. His hips jerked forward involuntarily.

“ Stop teasing.” He growled, tangling one huge hand in her hair.

“ Suck it.”

“ So impatient.” She purred, eyes gleaming with mischief. Then she opened her mouth and took him in.

She managed halfway before gagging hard, her throat tightening around his girth. Tears pricked her eyes but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she bobbed her head, sucking noisily while her hands worked the rest of his shaft and fondled his heavy balls.

“ That’s it…good girl.” König praised roughly, gripping her hair tighter.

“ Choke on my cock like the greedy slut you are.”

Y/n moaned around him, the vibration shooting pleasure up his spine. She tried again for deeper, forcing more of his massive length down her throat until she coughed and pulled back, gasping. Strings of spit connected her swollen lips to his glistening cock.

“ It's too big.” She whimpered, but immediately dove back in, sucking harder. Her tongue traced every throbbing vein as she worked him with wet and filthy sounds.

König’s breathing grew ragged. “ Fuck, your mouth is perfect. Taking me so well even though you’re struggling. Look at you…such a dirty little cocksucker.”

She jerked the base fast while sucking the head, tongue flicking relentlessly. His balls tightened in her hand. König’s grip in her hair turned almost painful as his hips started shallow thrusts.

“ I’m close—” He warned with a guttural groan.

Y/n pulled back just enough to pump him furiously with both hands, mouth open and tongue out. With a deep, broken moan, König came hard. Thick ropes of cum painted her tongue and lips. She whimpered at the taste, keeping her eyes locked on his as she showed him the mess before swallowing it all.

“ Mmm…you taste so sweet.” She said huskily, licking her lips.

“ I want more.”

König cursed in German while chest heaving. His cock was still rock-hard, twitching for another round. He was about to pull her up and bend her over when his earpiece suddenly crackled back to life, but he must have bumped the comms when he undressed.

“ König, you bastard! Where the fuck are you?!” Price roared.

Gaz’s voice followed while laughing. “ We heard moaning. Actual moaning. Tell me you’re not—”

“ Krueger’s getting his dick sucked while we’re about to raid the cartel leader!” Soap howled.

“ Unbelievable!”

Krueger’s real voice cut in. “ Stop using my name for your fuck session, you giant Austrian prick!”

König’s face burned under the mask even as Y/n giggled and licked another drop of cum from his tip. His cock jumped at the sensation.

“ Shut up, all of you.” He snarled quietly, trying to sound authoritative while Y/n stroked him lazily.

“ I turned comms off for a reason.”

“ Clearly.” Price said dryly.

“ Mission is to live at ten. Finish whatever the hell you’re doing and get your ass back here.”

Y/n looked up at him with wicked eyes, still on her knees, cum-glossed lips parted. “ Are you going to fuck me now, König? Or are you going to let your friends keep listening?”

He gripped her jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip.

“ I am going to ruin this pretty cunt until you can’t walk.” He promised.

“ And you’re going to scream my real name while I do it.”

Outside, the distant party continued. Inside the cabin, König flipped Y/n onto the bed, spreading her legs wide as his thick cock nudged against her soaked entrance.

…

König didn’t waste another second as he lined up his massive cock and shoved in with one brutal thrust, stretching her tight cunt around his girth. Y/n cried out sharply, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out.

“ Fuck…too big!” She gasped, but her legs instantly wrapped around his waist and pulling him deeper.

“ You can take it.” He growled.

“ This greedy little pussy is sucking me in like it was made for me.” He started pounding her hard, hips slamming forward, the fat head of his cock hitting her deepest spot with every thrust. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin filled the cabin.

His huge hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes roll. He fucked her like a fleshlight, raw and relentless, spanking her tits until they bounced red under his palm.

“ Look at these slutty tits turning red for me. You love being used, don’t you?”

Y/n moaned louder, nodding frantically. He grabbed her legs, folding her in half, ankles on his broad shoulders as he drove even deeper. Balls-deep and merciless, he snarled degrading words right against her ear.

“ Such a pathetic little whore. Teasing me for days with that body, now you’re getting exactly what you begged for.”

He suddenly flipped her over, shoving her face into the mattress and yanking her hips up. From behind, he slammed back in, using her hair like reins to pull her onto his cock.

Y/n screamed in pleasure, seeing stars with every punishing thrust. Then he slowed down cruelly, edging her. A long and deep strokes while biting her shoulder hard enough to leave marks.

“ Not yet.” He whispered darkly.

“ You don’t cum until I say so, you desperate slut.”

She whimpered, biting the bedsheet, hips trying to push back for more friction. He kept the torturously slow pace, whispering filth until she was shaking. Then he snapped back to brutal speed, pressing her body flat into the bed and railing her like the world was ending.

Without warning, he pulled out, lifted her into the air, and held her legs spread wide as he fucked up into her. Y/n moaned loudly at the new depth, helpless in his grip. He carried her to the wall, pressed her against it in a standing fuck, pounding relentlessly while squeezing and slapping her breasts.

“ König…please—” She begged.

He felt her getting close again and slowed once more, edging her mercilessly.

“ Beg louder, bitch. Tell me how badly this slutty cunt needs to cum.” He spanked her ass hard, turning it red while keeping her right on the edge.

“ Please! Let me cum…I can’t…König!”

He laughed darkly, pulling her waist higher and choking her again as he fucked her with savage force. “ Cum then. Cum all over my cock like the dirty whore you are.”

One final, heavy thrust sent them both over. Y/n shook violently, squirting around his cock as her orgasm crashed through her. König groaned loud and deep, burying himself to the hilt as he pumped thick ropes of cum deep inside her, hips jerking with every pulse.

They stayed locked together, trembling in the aftershocks, lost in pure ecstasy. König carried her back to the small bed and pulled her against his broad chest, still buried inside her.

His voice softened slightly. “ You okay, schatz?”

Y/n swatted his chest weakly, breathless and glowing. “ I didn’t expect you to be such a monster in bed…I almost lost my mind.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “ I have been craving you since the first second I saw you on that beach. I haven’t had sex in a very long time. I poured all of it on you.”

Before she could reply, his comms crackled back to life loudly.

“ Finally finished, you horny bastard?!” Price barked.

“ We’ve been trying to reach you for twenty bloody minutes! The target is on the move!”

Gaz laughed through the line. “ We heard everything. The choking, the spanking, the ‘you dirty slut’ bit. Mate, you’ve got range.”

Soap moaned dramatically again. “ König~ Harder, big guy~ Fuck me like your little island whore—”

“ Shut the fuck up!” König snarled, face burning under the mask while still holding Y/n close.

Y/n giggled against his chest while tracing lazy circles on his abs. “ Your friends sound fun.”

“ They are assholes.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to her hair despite the chaos in his ear. His cock twitched inside her again, still hard.

König groaned in embarrassment while Y/n laughed softly, grinding her hips once teasingly against him. The mission waited outside, but the unresolved heat between them promised this night was far from over.

…

König’s head snapped toward the distant crack of gunshots echoing across the island. His body tensed instantly.

“ Scheiße…the operation started.”

He lunged for his clothes, but Y/n was faster. She grabbed his thick wrist and yanked him back onto the bed with surprising strength.

“ What are you doing?” He growled.

“ My comrades need me right now.”

“ This night isn’t over.” She purred, pushing him down.

Her hand wrapped around his still-hard cock, stroking slowly. “ Look at you…still so fucking hard. You’d rather run off to play soldier than fuck me properly?”

König groaned, hips twitching into her fist. “ I want to stay and ruin you all night, but I have a mission—”

She brushed her thumb over his sensitive tip, smearing the leaking precum. “ One round wasn’t enough. Not for either of us.”

Her voice dropped into a filthy whisper. “ I’m still dripping for you, König. Feel how wet I am?”

She straddled his thigh and ground her soaked pussy against him. He hissed, head falling back. “ You’re going to get me killed…”

Y/n pouted playfully, continuing to tease his cockhead while whispering dirty promises. Then she shoved his chest hard, forcing him flat on his back. She hovered over him, trapping the massive man beneath her smaller frame, and sank down onto his thick length in one smooth motion.

“ Fuck—” König’s eyes rolled as she took every inch.

She started riding him with torturous slowness, rolling her hips in deep, grinding circles.

“ I knew you weren’t some stressed architect on vacation.” She murmured, hands braced on his broad chest.

“ You’re here to spy on the cartel leader.”

His eyes widened. Before he could respond, she tightened her pussy around him and slammed down harder.

“ You thought I was stupid enough to believe your lies?” She laughed darkly and riding him faster.

“ While you were staring at my tits on the beach, I was watching you.”

König groaned, hands gripping her hips. “ What…what are you—”

“ What are your friends going to do to our leader?” She asked sweetly while bouncing on his cock while her walls clenched around him.

He tried to think through the pleasure. “ I don’t—”

She laughed again, a wicked sound that went straight to his balls. “ You fell right into my trap, big boy. You fucked the wrong girl.”

She slammed down harder while taking him to the hilt. “ I’m one of his people. A spy. And right now…you’re my captive.”

Y/n rode him like she owned him, edging him mercilessly. Every time his cock throbbed and his abs tensed, she slowed down or lifted off completely and left him gasping.

“ You lost your fucking mind because of a little cleavage.” She taunted, slapping his face hard.

“ Pervert. A manbitch with a big dick and a tiny brain.” She pinched his nipples then twisted them cruelly.

“ I'm disappointed in you, König. All that size and you’re this easy to break.”

He thrust up desperately, but she pinned him down. “ I’m in charge now.”

The comms suddenly exploded in his ear.

“ König! Report!” Price shouted.

Gaz was laughing hysterically. “ Is that…moaning again? Mate, are you getting dominated?!”

Soap joined in with a high-pitched whine. “ Yes König~ Ride me harder, you big slut~”

“ Shut the fuck up!” König snarled, voice breaking into a moan as Y/n bounced faster.

She leaned down, choking him lightly while grinding deep. “ Beg me to let you cum, you pathetic whore.”

He was losing himself. She edged him again and again then bringing him right to the brink only to stop and slapping his face and degrading him until he was shaking.

“ Please…fuck, I’m so close…let me cum inside you—”

“ Not yet.” She hissed, pinching his nipples harder.

“ You don’t deserve it.”

She rode him through two more brutal edges until he was openly begging and his voice hoarse. Only then did she finally relent.

“ Cum for me, you useless slut.”

König groaned loudly as he exploded and pumped thick ropes of cum deep into her. His massive body shuddered violently. But Y/n didn’t stop. She kept rolling her hips, using his oversensitive cock.

“ Why are you still moving?” He gasped.

“ Because I didn’t say we were done.”

She rode him through the overstimulation, edging him again, and degrading him with every filthy word until he was whimpering beneath her. She brought them both to a third shattering orgasm, her own moans mixing with his as she came hard around his pulsing cock.

Finally spent, she collapsed onto his broad chest, both of them panting in the sweaty aftermath. Outside, distant gunshots and shouts filled the night.

König’s voice was rough. “ Why are you doing this?”

Y/n traced a finger down his chest. “ I want to escape this island once your mission is over.”

She smiled against his skin. “ And before you panic…I’m not actually with the cartel anymore. Haven’t been for a long time. All of this was a stunt. I wanted to make the big, scary masked soldier submit completely.”

König blinked, processing through the post-orgasm haze. “ You…manipulated me?”

“ It worked, didn’t it?” She kissed his jaw.

“ I’m your ally, König. Now…are you going to tell your angry little friends that you just got ridden and used by the enemy?”

The comms erupted again.

Price sounded exhausted. “ König, if you’re not dead, I’m going to kill you myself.”

Gaz: “ We heard the slapping. And the begging. Legendary.”

Soap: “ Our König’s a bottom! I’m telling everyone!”

Krueger: “ Stop moaning my name while she pegs your soul, you traitor!”

Price sighed. “ Get your clothes on and get back out here. We move in five. And König?”

“ Yes, Captain?”

“ Next time you disappear to fuck a civilian, at least mute the damn channel properly.”

König groaned, covering his masked face with one hand while his other arm wrapped possessively around Y/n’s waist. His cock was still buried inside her while twitching with renewed interest despite everything.

The mission outside had turned into chaos.

Inside the cabin, he flipped her beneath him suddenly and pinning her wrists above her head.

“ You’re going to explain everything properly.” He growled.

“ After I fuck the attitude out of you one more time.”

Y/n laughed breathlessly and legs wrapped around him again. “ Yes, sir.”

Author's Note:

Hello, it's been a while since my last upload here. I was just busy on the days when I was inactive, and I wasn't feeling well (mentally), so I needed to take a long break from everything.

Thank you for your patience! :)

[konigsfertiliser]

“What the fuck, Simon?” you’re hissing out, trying to turn your head and look him in the eye when you give him the fiercest glare you can muster. His large hand moves from the scuff of your neck to the back of your head, holding you in place.

“Don’t try. You’ll strain your neck,” he says evenly.

“Strain my neck my ass, Simon you’re fucking lying on top of me,” you snap back, snarling as you try to break free. In return, he presses down more of his weight down on you, effectively rendering you immobile.

“Are you finished?” he says in that same unbothered tone of voice.

“Go fuck yourself,” you say, squirming fruitlessly under his grip.

He lets out a quiet huff of laughter and does not budge one inch, except to put his face beside your ear and whisper, “Stay still, darling.”

Eventually, you wear yourself out somehow and stop struggling. He’ll get tired eventually. You will outstubborn the stubborn bastard.

Except… once you start to make yourself comfy, it feels… nice. It’s soothing, to have a warm, solid weigh against you. In spite of what you told yourself, you feel you muscles start to relax, the sharp edges of your nerves smoothening out.

“That’s it,” he says. “There’s my girl. Being so good for me.”

A warm feeling blooms in your chest, and you hum, pleased. He noses the side of your neck.

You don’t even know what you were on edge about. Why does that matter anyways, when you can be good for him like this?

Yes. You’re going to be a very good girl for him.

[cod-indulgences]

Thinking about being double-teamed by Ghost and König. Ghost got you spread over his lap, chest pressed to yours, your face buried in against his throat while you cry from overstimulation as he keeps his cock warm in your pussy, König pounding at your ass.

He cups his hand around the back of König's neck, reminding him to be gentle, your little hole isn't used to being stretched out around a massive cock. He whines, nuzzling at your neck, against Ghost's mask, his frantic movements slowing into a deep grind.

Your belly is so full of cock you can feel your brain melting. Holes stretched and stuffed, pussy drooling, the lube from your ass smeared in fingerprints over your thighs and hips. Every time König bottoms out, his balls kissing Ghost's, you cry a little more, mouth slack.

Ghost cradles König's cheek, smiles at him, then catches at the dog tags he wears- his, yours, and Ghost's, the body-warm metal jingling. "Good boy. Go on, fill up that cute little hole," and König groans and shudders and pumps so much cum into your guts you feel it sloshing, thick and creamy.

Only when he's done does Ghost push you both down, your ass still plugged up with König's cock, and start fucking your pussy with heavy snaps of his hips, as you sob and clench around him, milking König's cock with every squeeze, so cock-drunk that you barely even notice yourself cum, a wash of heat and pleasure that just builds on everything else, pussy and clit throbbing as Ghost uses your hole for himself.

[ilylovelyz]

tw : simon fucks you till you piss yourself.

your cunt gushes obscenely with every deep thrust of simon's hips, both of your arms behind your back with a single large hand of his.

his cock, heavy and pulsing inside of you, thumps against your cervix each time he humps your ass, sloshing around the old loads of his cum that he already dispensed within your pussy.

he has you on your knees, chest against the bed, your nipples stiff and dry from the constant stimulation. its painful, he's had you come several times around him, finding enterainment in the way you so easily can gush around him with a flick of his fingers on your clit.

"shiimon," you slur out, muffled in the sheets damp with your slick and tears and other fluids. simon stops his ruthless pounding on your cunt, opting for a harsh grind balls deep against your cervix, teasing the already battered and bruised tissue.

"tha's tha shit huh, baby?" he says lowly, almost out of breath. "enjoyin' yourself?"

you whine at his teasing, attempting to hide yourself into the ruined pillows before simon is slapping a heavy hand onto the sensitive flesh of your asscheek, already red with his hand print. he can be so mean sometimes.

you're not given a warning before simons laying his entire 250 pound pure hardened muscle of a body onto your much more sensitive and fragile one, screaming helplessly as the last inch of his cock that you always struggle to take slides in forcefully, pressing painfully against your cervix as if he was on a mission to break it and pass through into your womb.

if only.

with his body weight fully on top of you, youre given no choice but to go limp and flat against the mattress, your tummy and breasts digging into the material. simon lets out a throaty moan when your cunt squeezes around him, cock twitching upwards into what feels like must be your guts as you messily cum on his cock, your juices leaking out around him and creating an even bigger mess on his and your thighs.

"thats it girl, good girl," he praises, his hips tight against your ass. he leans down, his chest against your back so he can lay open-mouthed kisses against your earlobe, relishing in the way you shiver and attempt to squirm away from the overwhelming stimulation.

simon begins rocking his hips once more, slowly. feeling your walls open and close with every in and out of his movement. the peace is there for a moment, you're quiet and almost comatose from how good he's fucking you until simon becomes discontempt with your silence and hes angling his hips and pulling out until his tip is hardly inside of you and slamming back inside to the hilt.

its with the new angle that your back is forced to arch, pressure elevated to your lower tummy and as result your bladder.

its then that you begin to really panic. thrashing wildly and sobbing for simon to stop, clawing at his hand that is holding yours.

"s-simon! 'm gunna pee!" you cry, face hot as summer sun from pure embarrassment.

simon only scoffs, smiling lightly at your panicking. but he doesnt move. he instead uses his forearms to hold himself up, using his weight and slamming his hips against your ass with a lewd "plap plap plap".

youre wailing at this point. his ruthless thrusts force your tummy against the mattress, the immense pressure of his tip plunging against your cervix, proves to be too much for you. youve taken everything he's given you, letting him wear you like a fleshlight until youre nearly bursting at the seams, but this is too much.

"simon!" you warn one last time, sobbing and trying to push yourself upwards and away from him. with one final aimed thrust to your cervix, the dam breaks loose, your eyes rolling to the back to your head as you tremble and your muscle contract painfully as you cum once more, except instead the water isnt a small trickle and instead its a long stream of your piss.

simon just moans, long and loud, tipping his head back, continuing his thrusts. he flushes at the lewd sight of you twitching so cutely, pissing yourself from cumming too hard from his efforts.

he bites at his lips, humping weakly against you some more before hes pulling out, wet squelches audible as he pulls his engorged cock from the tight confines of your pussy. if you werent fucked nearly to the last inch of your life, you would feel the mattress dip underneath simons heavy weight as he shuffed towards your face, jerking his cock noisily over your face, his eyes glued to the puffiness of your eyes and cheeks, the wetness from your tears and the clear defeat in your bones, tipping him over the edge and at long last cursing your name as his cock spurts several hot ropes of his potent cum over your adorable face.

—cod masterlist.

[bboricha]

y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1

➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!

➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?

al haitham x secretary afab!reader

you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive. 

maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.

it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit. 

you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling—at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.

he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.

“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”

kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader

you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.

especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.

you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.

when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.

his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.

“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”

baizhu x assistant afab!reader

you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.

one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.

he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?

he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.

you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.

he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.

“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”

childe x cicin mage afab!reader

you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side. 

that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.

he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.

you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.

the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”

cyno x matra afab!reader

you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.

his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.

you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.

the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.

at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.

“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”

➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd

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[silverlullabies]

Ghost with an oral fixation using his mask to hide the fact that he’s been eating you out- via your portal pussy- for hours.

Briefing room lights low, projector casting shifting blue-white glow across the long table. Price stood at the front walking the team through the latest op intel. Soap was leaning forward, scribbling notes and occasionally interjecting with his usual chaotic enthusiasm. Gaz sat beside you, arms crossed, focused.

And you… you were seated directly across from Ghost, trying- fucking desperately- to remain professional.

Hands clasped tightly in your lap under the table, knuckles popping, spine ramrod straight, thighs pressed together so hard the muscles trembled. Your cunt, however, was a soaked, throbbing mess.

Because Ghost had your portal pussy strapped securely over the lower half of his face, hidden beneath the balaclava, pressed flush to his mouth. He was relaxed in his chair, gloved hands resting loosely on the surface, heavy lidded eyes fixed forward with that signature dead stare.

No one noticed the subtle, rhythmic shift of his jaw beneath the fabric.

No one saw the way his eyes fluttered half closed for a split second every few minutes.

No one could possibly guess that Simon Riley was eating your pussy like a man with a terminal oral fixation. Tongue moving in broad, flat strokes under the mask, dragging from your dripping entrance all the way up to your swollen clit.

Lapping at you lazily, savoring the taste that coated his tongue and chin, swallowing every fresh gush of slick with a quiet, satisfied hum that no one else could hear. Circling the sensitive bud, sucking it gently between his lips and sending low vibrations straight through to your cunt.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood when another wave of pleasure rolled through you, cunt clenching hard around nothing, leaking more arousal that Ghost eagerly drank down.

You tried to keep your breathing carefully controlled, slow inhales through your nose, but your cheeks were flushed, and you could feel sweat beading at the small of your back.

Ghost’s cock was rock hard and leaking steadily into his pants, thick length straining painfully against the zipper as his tongue pushed deeper, curling to stroke that spongy spot inside you that always made your vision spark white at the edges.

Price gestured at the screen. “Ghost? Thoughts on the exfil?”

Simon lifted his gaze lazily, voice coming out gravel rough and perfectly even from behind the mask. “Solid. No notes.”

The moment Price turned back to the slides, Ghost doubled down, sucking harder on your clit, tongue flicking rapidly, then slowed to lazy, teasing circles that had your hips twitching involuntarily in your seat. You gripped the edge of the table, forcing your face into a neutral expression while your poor, oversensitive cunt fluttered and pulsed against his mouth.

Every time your walls started spasming harder and your thighs began to shake, he’d pull back just enough to lap softly at your folds, letting the intensity fade until you were no longer right on the brink. Then he’d dive back in, tongue fucking you, sucking your clit, humming those deep vibrations that made your eyes nearly roll back.

By the third orgasm he ripped from you, your cunt was puffy, swollen, dripping down his chin beneath the mask. By the fourth, you were fighting not to whimper out loud, biting your lip bloody.

You were a wreck, legs trembling under the table, panties long since ruined, core clenching uselessly. Every slow, wet lap sent sparks up your spine. Every suck on your clit made your vision blur. You wanted to moan his name, to beg him to let you come properly, to spread your legs and let him bury his face for real.

Ghost knew it. And the bastard was enjoying every second.

When the briefing finally wrapped and the team started filing out, Soap clapped Ghost on the shoulder with a “You alright, Lt? Lookin’ a bit focused today.”

Ghost remained seated a moment longer, voice low and slightly hoarse as he replied, “Never better.”

His eyes locked onto yours across the now emptying room.

You stood on shaky legs, trying to walk normally as you gathered your notes. The portal was still pressed to his face. He still hadn’t stopped. Even as people left, his tongue continued its slow, torturous circles around your oversensitive clit, occasionally dipping inside to curl against your walls.

As the last person disappeared through the door, Ghost finally rose from his chair, and crossed the room in two slow strides until he was standing right in front of you, mask still firmly in place.

His gloved hand came up, tilting your chin so you had to meet his eyes.

“Been such a good girl fer me,” he murmured, voice rough and thick. “Sitting there all while I ate this pretty cunt. Didn’t make a sound.”

A low, hum rumble vibrated through his chest.

“But we’re not done yet. Briefing’s over… and i’m still fucking starving.”

[cod-indulgences]

König x female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, soft smut, no real warnings here this is just sweet

König loves it when you sprawl on top of him after a long day, wearing one of his big shirts, your face tucked into his neck and your legs and arms limp. You call him your big cuddly cat, and he laughs and kneads your thighs and ass with his big paws, threatening to eat up the little rabbit that's crossed his path.

Like this he can reach most of your body, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, coaxing them to spread open a little further, gripping your ass and hips and massaging the flesh until you're melting into him. He might be the big cat, but you're purring on him, warm and relaxed as he cradles you. It's almost too sweet to disturb.

But he's just a man with his girl sprawled over him, and the next pass of his hands grips your ass and lifts, arching your back a little, and he turns to kiss the tip of your ear as his fingers slide into the cleft of your ass, rubbing down the center of you where your thighs part further. You coo and twine your arms up around König's neck, rocking into the soft touch of his hands, letting the big soldier grope and squeeze your flesh to his liking. You lay soft kisses against his throat, rocking back into his hands, a soft moan slipping past your lips when he finally slides two fingers under the thin strip of fabric and over your soft, damp folds.

He's so good with his hands- big and scarred and strong, rough and stained with blood but always so gentle against your body. He touches you like you're precious, sweeps of his fingers up and down to spread the slick starting to leak from your pussy, easing the friction as he starts playing with your clit, drawing more moans out of you. His other hand keeps squeezing and playing with your ass, pushing your panties down your thighs, groaning when he slides a finger into you and feels how hot and wet you are inside.

You know he's hard under you, though you're not placed to feel it- König's hips are rocking up, shifting your weight as he fingers you to the same rhythm, and you crane your neck to meet his lips for sweet, wet kisses, panting into each other's mouths. He's sucking on your tongue when you get your hands beneath you, braced on his chest to sit up, flinging the loose shirt away. He grins at the sight of your bare breasts and pulls you forward to get his mouth around a nipple.

You moan and lean down to let him get more of your breast into his mouth, watching as he suckles, his eyes nearly rolling in his head as he works your nipple with his tongue and lips, still steadily fingering you, soft wet sounds leaking out from around his finger. When he adds a second you moan and rock back onto his hand, using your own to tease your neglected nipple. König pulls away with a wet pop, finally releasing your ass to fumble with his pants, drawing his cock out with a gasp, the tip rubbing immediately against your pussy, spreading his own precome against you.

His sticky hand steadies your hips, and you reach between your legs to angle him, both moaning together as König fills you in a long smooth slide, your pussy sinking over him until you whine with the full, deep pressure of bottoming out, your ass resting against his thighs.

König gives you a moment to adjust, quivering around his cock, before he begins to lift your ass and bring you down again with sharp thrusts. You moan helplessly into his neck, letting him control the pace as he rocks his hips up in rhythm, driving deeper as your pussy clenches and drags at his cock, reluctant to let him go. You cry out as he grinds into you, your clit trapped between your bodies and rubbing against his pubic hair, and König swears and thrusts again, faster, squeezing your hips and ass. The room is full of the wet sounds of your fucking, gasps and moans, König kissing the side of your face and hair until he can catch your open mouth, licking into you and swallowing your moans.

"Look at me, meine liebe," he urges, and you manage to pry your eyes open through the growing pleasure. "Zeig mir, wie schön du bist, wenn du kommst," and you can't look away from him as König shoves a hand between your bodies and finds your clit, sliding two fingers around it to tease the sensitive nub. You pant against him, moaning at each thrust, and when you finally hit that sharp peak, pleasure rolling through your body, you feel König shudder with you, groaning deep in his chest. His thighs shake as he thrusts deep and grinds into you, his cock spilling into your pussy, leaking come where your bodies are joined.

Your collapse against his chest, catching your breath as you trail your fingers up his chest and over his arms, pressing little kisses to his throat, savoring the take of his skin. König murmurs soft German against your hair, holding your hips to keep his cock inside you, heavy and warm, his own breathing evening out.

You settle back against his body again, like before but boneless, still connected between your pussy and his slowly softening cock. You let your fingers twine through König's hair, nuzzling your faces together, as warm and sated as you could be.

[kevlarjumpsuit]

Ok, I had a thot, hear me out. What if... reader was with Ghost. (Doing sex). Then Soap enters the chat. But, he uh, gets behind Ghost. ... Ghost would probably have a hard time keeping his composure.

Ok running away now.

You're right, and you should say it.

You can feel the exact moment when Johnny joins you. His fingertips trail down Simon's spine, and Ghost's hips stutter to a halt.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," he groans, beginning to thrust again. Slower. Deeper.

Simon's arms shake, and he just catches himself from collapsing down on top of you as Johnny begins to kiss a languid trail down his back. Somebody's hand slides up your calf, and you don't know which of your lovers it belongs to, but Simon's head falls forward to rest against your shoulder just as you feel the first graze of a soft tongue against your entrance where you're stretched wide over Simon's cock.

"Christ," he pants, warm against your skin.

He keeps his pace slow, and you can feel the effort it costs him in the tremble of his body, the rasp of his breath. The tip of Johnny's tongue slips inside you, sliding gloriously along Simon's cock before retreating. You feel the light scratch of his stubble between your thighs, and when you hear a quiet sucking sound, you know he's giving Simon's bollocks the attention they so richly deserve.

He sucks and licks, alternating between you and Simon, until your other lover is reduced to a whimpering, squirming mess, muffling his groans and pleas into your chest as he ruts desperately into your body. And when he comes—far sooner than he'd like—Johnny is there to lick the both of you clean.

@niikasposts

[soliloquysoph]

CW: teeny bit of degradation but also praise so it essentially cancels out

————————

God, you couldn't take any more. You were laying flat on your back staring at the ceiling hoping, praying this would go away. You had a dream about him, your lieutenant. The one who barely spared you a glance or said more than five words to you.

You could still see him hunched over you, panting in your ear about how good you felt wrapped around his cock. It was so fucking realistic, you had to force yourself to wake up before you made a mess in your sleep. You drank water, you opened a window, you closed the window, drank more water and nothing- nothing made the ache between your legs go away.

"Fuck this-"

You sit up and kneel on your bed, looking down at your pillow having an internal battle with yourself before sighing and taking your shorts off, leaving you in your panties. You swing your leg and straddle the damn thing, a sigh of contentment slipping past your lips when you lower your weight onto it.

It wasn't long until you were panting yourself, hips rutting and grinding into the pillow. Your neck and forehead were slick with sweat, making your hair stick. You didn't even realize how loud you were being until there was a sharp knock at your door.

"Open up."

Fuck. It was him. Of course it was him. You freeze and consider pretending you didn't hear when he knocks again.

"Y'have five seconds or I'm breaking the damn door myself."

You scramble to get your shorts back on, stumbling to the door and opening it just enough to look up at him.

"LT?"

Casual enough, right? You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his eyes are burning holes into your skull.

"Y'bein loud. Sounded bloody pornographic whatever you were doin' in here. Let me in."

Your eyes go wide and you shake your head, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.

"Wait, I-"

"I said, let me in. I don't like repeatin' myself."

You were stuck. You had no choice otherwise what, he'd threaten you with insubordination and taint your perfect record? You sigh and slowly open the door, eyes darting away as he moves past you into the room. He looks around before his gaze falls on the pillow still crumpled in the middle of the bed. He gives you a look before walking over slowly and examining it.

"Why's it wet?" He asks, picking it up much to your horror. He looks at you again and looks down, noticing your shorts on not only backwards but inside out and then it clicks. He clears his throat and tosses the pillow back onto the bed, his pants feeling much too tight now. He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and his other hand on his hip.

"Are we- are we done here, LT?"

You start fidgeting more than you already were when he looks at you again and walks over slowly. He glares down at you before he slips his gloves off, one hand coming up to grip your jaw to keep your eyes on him.

"Filthy little thing, ain't ya?" He murmurs, his voice an octave lower and making the heat between your legs return. "Fucking yourself on a pillow," he chuckles deeply at the idea, shaking his head. "Pathetic."

You're then led back to the bed, his large hand pressing against your chest so you're laying down sprawled in front of him. He's quick to nudge your legs open with his knee, settling between them. You open your mouth to speak but his fingers press against your lips as he shakes his head.

"Not a word. Suck."

And of course you listen to him, I mean fuck, wouldn't anyone? Your lips part, allowing his digits to slip into the warmth of your mouth and letting your tongue dance around them. You hum softly, mind going fuzzy as your eyelids droop about halfway. Ghost's free hand trails down your side, tugging at your shorts until he manages to get them off. His own eyes hazy as he glances down and sees the still growing wet patch that causes the thin fabric to cling to you, outlining your cunt perfectly.

"Oh fuckin' hell.."

He murmurs as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and pulls your panties to the side, those same fingers glistening with not only spit but now your arousal as he just rubs up and down making you squirm.

"Oh- fuck, LT what are you-"

"M'helping ya out, whadya think?"

He glances up at you before slipping just one finger in, testing the waters. You immediately gasp, shooting him the dirtiest look despite being a little too grateful he forced his way into your room. He keeps on until he's knuckle deep then curls his finger to press against that all too familiar spongy spot inside, repeating that until you're whining and begging for another finger.

"P-please, sir just one more?"

'Sir'? He looks up at you with a cocked eyebrow, happily obliging with your request and adding a second finger to stretch you further.

"Better?"

You nod eagerly, head falling back onto the mattress as you feel a tight warmth building in your stomach. This doesn't go unnoticed of course, not with the way your knees kept digging into his sides as your legs tried so desperately to close.

"Y'close? Y'gonna cum all over my hand, ain't ya?"

He picks up the pace and your legs are about to squeeze one last time when he suddenly pulls his fingers out leaving you empty.

"What the fuck?! I was so close why the fuck did you do that?" You snap at him, sitting up so fast you almost head butt his nose. He just stares at you and lifts up his mask just above his nose before kissing you roughly, the sound of his pants hitting the ground ringing through the room along with a quiet tear as he 'accidentally' rips your panties out of impatience.

It wasn’t long before you felt every inch of him filling you up, a sharp inhale breaking the kiss followed by a groan from him.

“Fuuuck, y’so tight. Y’always like this? Bloody hell…” he wasn’t really talking to you, more-so at you. His forehead rests against yours as he starts fucking into you at an even pace. His hands grip your hips and hold them in place, allowing him to stand up straight and get a good look at you.

You looked so fucking good like this; hair splayed out on the mattress, flushed cheeks, stomach bulging almost imperceptibly whenever you took all of him with surprising ease.

“Mmph such a good girl f’me, ain’t ya? Taking it like the dirty slut you are. This what y’wanted, hm?” He was getting louder along with you, the hold he had on you tightening.

You see his eyebrows pinch together and he lets out this almost desperate mix of a moan and a whimper as he spills into you, your own orgasm finally hitting at the same time and making you clench around him like a vice, getting every last drop.

You were completely blissed out and limp as he cleans you up, not bothering to stick around as he gets dressed and slips his mask back on.

“Keep this between us, aye? Don’t want anyone knowing’ bout our dirty little secret,” he gently smacks your thigh with a gloved hand before walking out like he didn’t just fuck the wits out of you.

[l-otti]

Just thinking about drummer!Simon giving after class lessons to band member!reader bcs she's struggling w/ the sessions there having. And obvi the situation ends up on the bed where Simon is fingering reader to the beat of the music.

Is it obvious that I'm ovulating sorry not sorry ;P