⟡ ˖ Just A Cloud Passing By ‧₊☁️

[lostcloudz]

ﾟ. 🩹･𝗗𝗲𝗹𝘂𝗹𝘂 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆! 彡

𖧧

𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 !┆𝐈 𝐚𝐦 20 +┆𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

➜﹒note【📓】

•this is a reblog account, this is my source of comfort and entertainment.

•minors dni

please be kind and respectful. ◡̈ ty

[cod-indulgences]

König x fem!reader, dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, freak4freak, noncon piss play, forced orgasm, cockwarming, llanguage barrier, love at first fuck, implied future stalking

This is for the server 💜 thank you I love you

König hates the subway.

He's too big for it- too tall, too broad, and every time he tries to sit on the little plastic seats his thighs splay out and take up both around him to make room for his cock. At least he's in the corner so he only has open space on one side.

Today he ignores the dirty looks as the subway car fills up- he's spent the last several hours tracking a lead through the city, his feet ache and he wants to finally sit down for a bit. The crush grows, people shuffling around, and at least the man on König's open side doesn't do any more than grumble a little- he rolls over and promptly goes to sleep.

As the doors finally closed, the car rocking into movement, König finds that his open thighs have caught a pretty little fish.

You're standing with one arm up on the handlebar, headphones on, eyes firmly fixed on the middle distance, but you're being pushed nearly into his lap. And you look so soft- big sweater hanging off your shoulders, the raised hem revealing a little pair of shorts, smooth clean flesh of your thighs on display. The zippered bag between your feet must be groceries, he thinks. Did you also have a long day? Or is this you waking up, running errands in the same clothes you slept in?

And even better- as the train moves along, he realizes you're perfectly at eye level to see every bounce and sway of your breasts, the delicate little jiggling when a bump comes up, nothing between them and his own eyes except the sweater. No bra today, lovely? He wishes it were colder, so he could see more of your nipples.

It's just what he needs after so much headache, a pretty girl who can't run away, and so König indulges himself- long sweeps of his eyes from your pulse fluttering in your throat, across those lovely soft tits, down to where your shorts cling to the inside of your thighs- oh, you're trembling. He looks up, you still are looking past him, but there's a thin press to your mouth. Scared? Nervous? He thinks about locking his ankles behind you, dragging you into his lap, and his cock heats up, beginning to fill. When he adjusts it- there, yes, your eyes looking down for a moment and then snapping away.

Precious girl.

König sighs softly, palms himself. There's nowhere for you to go- you're as trapped as he is, people at your back and on either side, everyone turned away with their noses in their phones. You get closer, even, as you cling to the handlebar and fight the sway of the train, your legs held apart to keep your bag safely between your feet. König hooks an ankle behind yours, tugs just a little, and hears you gasp as your balance wobbles.

The seam of your crotch beckons him, those shorts riding up, and when you try and pull them down they simply refuse, springing back into place. Too much girl for such small clothes, the curves spilling out. It's nearly indecent how every movement just wedges them tighter- it is indecent, he realizes, because you're not just trying to fix your clothes and ignore the man staring at your body- your lips are parted and your pulse is thudding under your skin, your nipples have grown hard, pushing at the sweater.

This is-

This is turning you on, this pretend play at decency when really you're using your own little shorts to play with, making yourself hot and wet in this crowd of strangers. Teasing yourself even while he's sitting here, watching, and König sees the way you swallow when he squeezes his cock properly, traces it down his thigh so you can see just how big it is.

Then abruptly the subway car jerks, hard, and as you tumble down and into his lap all the lights cut out.

König doesn't waste an opportunity.

He grasps your hips, drags you down over his lap, and you're as soft and warm as he hoped. The shorts go right up, wedging high between your ass cheeks, and when he bounces you on his cock, drags your seam down the length of it, he feels the way you shudder, a hand coming up to his chest, digging your nails into him.

You speak, softly under the shouts of other people- and he can't understand you. Ah, König is a foreigner here.

"Does little fish want my cock?" He asks, in German, and gets nothing back but a soft confused sound. Perfect. "Slutty cunt hanging out, waiting for me, I know, precious. I will help you," and he turns you to face away and lifts your sweater, stuffing a wad of fabric into your open mouth, and then grips the back of your shorts and pulls hard, a seam popping, the muffled squeal you make going right to his cock as your pussy is split by the shorts, pressure that he knows will grind your clit. You tremble in his grip, and do nothing to fix your sweater or push him away, because König knows exactly what you want.

He lets go of your shorts to palm your tit instead, pinching at your nipple. Still no lights, only a dim glow from phone screens, and the little corner stays dark. You're huffing and moaning around your makeshift gag, and König twists your nipple hard, so that your legs stiffen and go tight, back arching.

He drags you back into his lap. "Perfect, sexy girl," he moans into your ear. "You don't realize how perfect you are. I'm not letting you get away after this. Do you want a spring wedding? I cannot wait, I will make you mine sooner, but we can still have a ceremony." On his lap, thighs open between his, your hips are circling, seeking pressure. He squeezes your other breast even as he shoves his hand into your shorts. "I will fuck you before so that my cum soaks into your pretty white dress. Or make you pregnant first, eh? Belly fat and tits falling out of your gown?"

Your clit is a hot, slick little bud under his fingertips. Soaking wet pussy, throbbing, and König feels his cock spurt a little when you clench on the finger he works inside. So so tight, so wet, taking what he gives you- still a stranger and you're so eager for it! Do you ride the subway every day hoping for someone to fuck you?

König will be the last and only one, now.

More seams pop as he forces his hand down into your shorts. Too small for so much flesh, bouncing and squeezing on his finger, and he takes it out, flicking your clit, and then grips the shorts in both hands and tears, ripping them tight down the middle, snapped threads digging into your thighs.

You gasp, the sweater falling from your mouth, panting breathlessly. There's words there he doesn't care about, as he works to get his cock out. It's so dark he can't see, can only unbuckle his belt by feel, shoving his pants down so that it springs up and smacks your thigh. Your hands grip his chest again, tugging.

Oh- you want his jacket. "Oh, shy now love? Where was this when you were humping the air in front of my face?" He chuckles, and shucks off the jacket. It's more than big enough to drape over you, but he waits a moment to lift your thigh up, finds the dripping folds of your pussy by the heat coming off you. Incredible, perfect, he's going to keep you forever-

The lights come on as König drops you onto his cock, spears you open, and in the same movement pulls the jacket over your body.

Your mouth opens silently, eyes huge, and he bites back his own moans as your pussy flutters around him. Flutters, what a soft word, when it's not soft at all- it's straining, screaming, the tight wet heat forced open by his cock, every inch packed inside and shoving your organs out of the way, the throbbing little mouth of your cervix sucking at his cockhead. Your thighs spasm, and König draws you against his chest, a man with a pretty wife who is cuddling him in the train car, nothing unusual at all.

Under the jacket he shoves your sweater back up. Soft warm breasts heaving with your gasps, your eyes huge and blank where your face turns into his chest. He plays with a nipple, tugging at it, sighing in pleasure when you squeeze on his cock. Your hand comes up, finds his, and clings to him. His heart warms even as his cock aches.

"My perfect little wife. I can't fuck you here, so keep me warm. Milk my cock," he murmurs, and brushes a bit of hair from your forehead. "Yes. I love you, my sweetheart. Use that little cunt to make me cum." He bucks his hips just a little, so you have to swallow a moan, and then it's just perfect- playing with your nipples, twisting and pulling so that you clench onto him, holding you still with his arm around your body, pinning you in place. No wriggling or riding, not here, just a hot slick pussy to soak his cock, his balls, the little quivering pulses of it smearing your fluids onto his skin.

A little too much, maybe, because you're whispering desperately at him, gasping and shaking, and he realizes there's more wet in his lap than even the sluttiest, most well fucked pussy should have. Oh, he's so big, he's pushing on your bladder.

He smiles, touches your cheek, and sees the despair and the heat together- the desperate need to not release even when your pussy is spasming on him, when you're trying to come.

His hand falls down your chest, across your belly, and König flicks your clit and kisses away a tear. "Go ahead, my darling," he croons. "Piss on my lap. You can't stop it now. Show your husband how that soft pussy feels when it's coming, go on," and there's that confusion again, a lack of understanding that makes his cock swell and jerk inside you. He touches your clit, flicks it, and then rubs just below, where a tiny hole is spasming, little sharp spurts of piss leaking out, a few drops at a time. Below that is the straining hole of your pussy, thin flesh taken to its limit on his cock. He can feel the way you're struggling even now, forced too wide, nothing left to hold back.

He flicks your clit again, then rubs back down to both holes, then another flick, over and over as your eyes glaze. You're shaking, the soft moans coming up, and König leans down and kisses you, sucks all the noise out of you, as he gets a grip on your slick, slippery clit and pinches it with sharp jerking motions, up and down.

You're lucky he has his arm over you, or your thrashing would have dropped the jacket, then everyone on the car could have turned and seen it- your tits bared and heaving, nipples swollen, your open thighs and the way your pussy jerks and comes while split on his cock, the spurts of slick and piss soaking his fingers and his clothes. The way your eyes roll, mouth slack, as pleasure takes you. They'd see König come, see the way you're already too full so there's slick white bubbles of it spurting past the base of his cock-

He groans into your mouth, and keeps rubbing and pulling your clit, using your clenching pussy to finish milking his balls empty. "My wife, fuck, so good," he pants against your cheek. "Oh, my darling girl. I love you," and you moan weakly, shuddering, as he finally lets go and holds you against his chest, just soft and warm now, keeping his cock inside as a few last trickles of your piss spill down his thighs. God, he's going to smell like you for hours.

The subway eases to a stop. König keeps his arms over you as you start to wriggle, gasping as your pussy clenches on his cock. You're trying to stand up, to leave, holding his jacket to cover yourself- the mess of your pussy and thighs can't be saved just by your sweater. He tore your shorts, so as you shift up and off him, he sees the burst of frothy cum sticking to you, wet all the way to your knees.

"You're so lovely," he says, sincere, as you stumble and flush and avoid his eyes. Shy again? Already?

König stuffs himself back into his pants, and smiles when you bob a little disbelieving wave at him, waving back, watching you stumble out of the car, bag hanging haphazardly off your elbow. His jacket swallows you whole.

You'll keep it, he thinks, you'll go home with your pussy leaking across it and maybe nuzzle into it. A reminder of what you think was the best hookup of your life, a random encounter you'll touch yourself to for the rest of your life.

König, who keeps a tracker in the collar of the jacket he wears on missions, simply takes his phone out and pulls up the app. A little pin is blinking as the subway starts to fill again. He ignores new dirty looks, this time for his size and the piss on his clothes- he doesn't care. He has a wedding to plan.

[sabrlne]

ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

"ʙʟᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇ"

ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ & ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ ᴀᴜ

The snow fell outside the cave. It looked unreal under the moonlight, like a fairytale too good to be true.

And what was too good to be true also was how the whole pack was sleeping safe and sound.

Even under a snowstorm this cold, even when the fire pits couldn't keep up with the blizzard.

Simon was the only one awake, watching over his pack. No one could beat this strange comfort that embraced them out of nowhere.

So, being the alpha, he had to stay awake, right?

That wasn't the case at all for him. It actually was the quiet opposite.

He couldn't sleep because of the storm, not the one outside the cave, but the one inside his mind.

Looking at his pack, some snuggling in their nests, some snoring, some just still, it wasn't like this before.

Even being werewolf shapeshifters with a higher temperature than normal human beings wasn't enough to stay warm in the winter.

So why is everyone warm, not bothered by the outrageous wind outside or the coldness of this harsh winter?

When a storm lighter than this one would have kept some of his betas and omegas awake?

Then his eyes landed on you.

Far away inside the cave, sleeping safe and sound just like the others.

But you, you didn't even bother to put a blanket on you to sleep.

And since the day you joined the pack, there was no other explanation for what's happening to his pack.

Other than it's all because of you.

Why?

Let's go back to how it all started...

A night where Simon was away from the cave, doing a border patrol with his Beta, Johnny.

The night seemed peaceful, nothing dangerous, nothing threatening, just moonlight, owls howling, and the snow creaking beneath their steps.

It was almost like a casual hangout between two men who'd die for each other.

Then, the wind picked up.

And a scent, a very unique, confusing but also so familiar scent to Simon, hit him.

He had to stop for a moment and close his eyes, his senses spiking up at this scent, like it had a hold on him, like... a smell he knew but couldn't remember whose it was.

Johnny noticed his reaction. The beta himself picked up the smell, but not as strongly as Simon did, not even as intensely.

"You're alright?" Johnny asked, concerned, looking around to sense any danger.

Simon didn't reply. He just took a shuddery breath and opened his eyes.

A low, deep growl tore from his throat, his heart beating fast.

And then, he started running towards the source, still in his human form.

"Hold on!" Johnny yelped from behind, and he followed his alpha without hesitation.

They both knew someone had just crossed their territory, but Simon knew it wasn't dangerous, and somehow, it felt the completely opposite of it.

It felt so right.

So they kept running until they arrived at the end.

And there she was, the source, you.

Standing there, heavily panting like you were running too, like you were looking for them too.

Simon squinted his eyes, surprised at what he was looking at, while Johnny was looking at you with suspicion and confusion.

Simon's eyes scanned you from head to toe, and he immediately knew that you were just like them, a shapeshifter werewolf.

But what confused him most was what you were wearing in the middle of the night, in a snowy forest, a harsh environment even for werewolves.

You were wearing incredibly thin clothes for this weather, yet you're standing like it's just a sunny spring day.

No one spoke for a moment, just heavy breaths and deep silence.

Simon looked around, making sure that you were alone, no one watching or around.

Even though it was your smell that was the only one around, filling Simon's lungs, and some... strange feeling of longing.

"You're lost?" he shouted, loud enough for you to hear.

You just simply shook your head, denying it.

Simon contemplated for a moment.

"You crossed a territory," he shouted again.

There was a weird feeling in his chest that if you had your pack, he didn't want you to go back, because it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right at all.

You didn't respond for the second time, yet you yourself couldn't walk away, because you too picked up on his scent the moment he picked up on yours.

And yet, it also felt so familiar, so comforting, and you had no clue why.

So now you three were just standing there, you and Simon staring at each other, while Johnny was just watching, curious what his alpha would do.

"Your pack is around?" Simon asked, his voice lower this time.

You stayed quiet for a moment, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"I have no pack..."

Simon frowned. No pack? How could you have no pack?

He didn't question you much about that, not now, not when he felt like he had found something he had lost years ago.

"You're lone?"

You nodded, a hand gripping your opposite arm.

"That's dangerous, how could she be alone in nowhere?" Johnny whispered to Simon.

Simon clenched his jaw. His beta was right, it was far too dangerous.

And judging by your scent, he knew immediately that you were an omega.

And a lone omega was never right.

But... something was off too... because your scent was not the scent of a normal omega.

"What will you do, Si?" Johnny asked again.

Simon turned to Johnny.

"I can't leave her out here..."

Johnny nodded, but still skeptical.

"I understand, Si, but... what if she's dangerous?"

Simon immediately shook his head, like that thought hadn't even crossed his mind at all.

And being the alpha he was, how he was always cautious, didn't trust so quickly.

That's why it was so strange for Johnny, the way he didn't seem like he was contemplating, like he had already made his choice.

"You're coming with us," he said with finality.

Your breath got caught. You stared at him in shock. Did he just say that? Why would he trust you that easily...

You wanted to deny, to walk away and stay alone, but you just couldn't help but gravitate towards him.

Simon didn't walk to you, didn't say any other word. He just walked away...

Johnny was in full confusion. He usually understood Simon, but this time, it seemed like none of you three knew what was exactly happening.

Simon just kept walking away, like he knew exactly you'd follow him. He didn't even look back.

And you did, of course you did. You followed the two men as they made their way back home.

And since then, you became a new member of his family, his pack.

The next morning, he introduced you to the others, his voice full of authority.

You watched as the pack looked at you, not in fear, not in disgust, but they were so welcoming to you, so kind.

And it's because they trust Simon, they trust his choices, and they know that whenever someone joins them, it's never the wrong choice.

Days passed, and Simon watched over you as you tried to settle down and get used to this new family.

He noticed the way you were always quiet, but your presence was always loud enough that no one could ignore it.

No one understood why, but they all started seeking you.

Asking you to join them in chitchats, meals, cooking, duties.

And you complied, of course. How could you refuse?

He noticed your wary gaze whenever someone got too close to you, how you flinched at the lightest things.

How you didn't seem to share your opinions much. Even when they asked you to, you just said what you thought they'd agree on.

Simon thought that it was just your nature, even when his heart couldn't stop feeling this heavy concern and guilt.

A guilt he didn't understand.

But what he noticed too was that harmony that clouded the pack after you joined.

A warmth, a strange warmth.

His pack didn't whine about the harsh coldness anymore...

The sick ones healed fast, with faster recovery after a tiring hunt...

When you slept, everyone slept deeper...

And when you were around during a disagreement, Simon didn't need to intervene. Your presence just seemed to calm everyone down, to make everyone work in harmony and serenity.

It's like you're making this pack a synergy, turning their hearts into one heart.

Like you were a missing piece, one of a kind.

Just by your presence alone.

Simon felt like he had found a treasure, not just a desperate omega in need.

And you for sure were different, and he didn't exactly know why...

So now, back to the stormy night, as he watched you sleep—so did the pack—his mind couldn't stop thinking.

He had heard that there were different werewolves, and he had heard that they were rare ones.

Rare ones with abilities that normal werewolves don't have, but deeply need for the sake of their pack.

Were you one of them?

Simon already knew the answer, you're rare...

But he doesn't exactly know what it is, he doesn't exactly know how rare you are, and why exactly you were alone.

And how did you not have a pack at all...

And this silence wasn't helping at all, and he knew, as the alpha, he had to finally make you get out of your comfort zone and ask you directly.

So the next night, while everyone was talking and eating dinner, you were at the corner, eating silently, savoring every bite.

You felt him before he was near you. You looked up, and there he was, coming towards you.

You felt that tingly feeling in your gut you always did whenever he was close, whenever you locked eyes on him, whenever you two interacted.

And unfortunately, that tingly feeling got translated into the heat on your cheeks, your fast blinks, and stuttering words.

"Can I sit with you?" he asked, his voice low so you're the only one who could hear him.

You nodded and shifted to make space for him to sit. Your hands held the bowl of food with more force as he sighed a bit while settling down.

You didn't look at him, but your heart was racing. You looked down at your bowl, suddenly not knowing how to behave.

"You like the meal?" he asked gently, looking down at you.

You just nodded. "Mhm..."

He nodded back, not looking away from you. He knew you were shy, and seeing you act like this when he was around, it was just endearing for him.

You took a deep breath, taking his scent in, the scent that you still don't understand why it makes you feel so safe, but also why it's so hard for you to hold back the tears you don't understand why they want to fall.

And for him too... your scent has never failed to make him question things, not because you're an omega, not because you're different.

But because of something else he didn't understand too.

"Why are you sitting by yourself?" he asked.

You stayed still for a moment. You didn't feel self-conscious until now. You looked around and saw everyone gathering, talking, laughing, and you?

Just by yourself.

It had become such a normal thing for you, you stopped noticing how wrong it felt.

"I, uhm... I'm used to it," you replied softly.

"Used to it? When you were alone out there?"

"Yes, when I was alone and also back home."

Simon's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He wasn't expecting that answer.

"Back home?" he asked.

You nodded and looked up at him, and that look on his face made your heart squeeze, like you just wanted to tell him everything.

Like he's a drug you can't control.

"You have a family?"

"I do..." you answered quietly, seeming more like a confession than a fact.

Simon took a deep breath. His protective instincts were through the roof. He clenched his hands next to him as he tried to control himself.

He had millions of questions now, but he knew he shouldn't overwhelm you, not when you were finally speaking to him.

So he tried another approach.

"Are they looking for you?"

You stared deeply into his eyes, your eyes twinkling from the fire pit close to you both.

"No one is looking for me..."

Somehow, that answer hurt him more than if you had said the opposite.

"Why?" he asked quickly.

You stayed quiet for a moment...

You didn't want him to look at you differently. You didn't want to lose this luxury of belonging somewhere.

But you couldn't also lie to him.

"They... they disowned me ."

Silence.

Neither of you spoke for nearly a minute.

You tried to calm down the racing beat of your heart, your hands cupping the bowl with more force than ever as you tried not to shake.

You're scared, terrified that this will be your last night in safety.

You didn't dare look up at Simon, your head lowered down cowardly, too scared to move or do anything.

Meanwhile, Simon, there was a storm of rage battling inside him.

How could your own family kick you out? You, who's the last person he could think could hurt anyone.

You who brought his pack together more than ever and made everything seem like a happy ending just by your existence.

How could a pack kick out an omega like you in the middle of nowhere where it's full of wicked werewolves that could take advantage of you or worse?

He felt his blood boiling in anger, his arm hairs rising, feeling like he was going to transform right there and just run into the snowy woods.

You felt his heat rising, the way he let out an almost unnoticeable growl after every breath, so you yourself cowered more in fear.

And he too picked up on your fear at his reaction.

No... no, that's not what he wanted.

So he stood up quickly and started pacing, trying not to shift.

The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared of him.

"Why?" The question came out harsher than he intended, but he just couldn't control it.

You swallowed, your hands shaking more now as you cowered into yourself more and more.

Seeming more like a reflex you learned throughout the years.

"I... they... uhmm..."

"They what?" he asked, his voice deeper than ever now.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip, trying not to cry.

You could lie, but you just felt like it wasn't worth it to lie to him, like you couldn't say anything but the truth.

So you let out a shaky breath, then, in the quietest tone ever, you responded.

"They said I'm cursed..."

Simon's heart stopped for a moment.

Cursed? How could you be cursed?

You're a blessing, more than a blessing that every pack would go through battles just so you could be with them.

How could your family think of your gifts as a curse? And mostly... how could you think that you're cursed?

And judging by the way you looked right now, the way he couldn't see your face, just the crown of your head, the way the spoon was clicking against the wooden bowl between your hands.

And the way you smelled now, like fear, grief, and loss.

He can exactly tell what happened to you.

But you, the lack of his response, the rage vibrating through him, did nothing but remind you of the times your father used to react over the slightest things you did.

Your father, the alpha of your family, the one who preferred your brothers over you.

The one who decided that you were a curse.

A bad omen, moon-forsaken.

Blamed everything on you whenever something bad happened to the pack.

Always compared you to your brothers and the family pups.

The one who neglected you, your well-being, your food, everything.

The one who caused all the damage.

You didn't want that to happen, not here, not in this sanctuary that felt too good to be true.

So you stood up, the bowl falling from your hand, food splashing on the ground.

The pack looked at you in concern, noticing the scene.

You stood there shaking, while their alpha towered over you.

Fiona, the pack's mother figure, stepped closer.

"Sweetheart, what's—" she tried to intervene, but Johnny stopped her midway.

She looked up at him, concerned, but he gave her a comforting nod.

Let them figure this out themselves.

So, with a heavy heart, she nodded back and stepped away.

With heavy breathing, the only thing your mind reacted with was to run.

Never come back here, never let them see your face again.

Because you couldn't let history repeat itself.

But as you started to walk, Simon grabbed your arm.

You froze, panic rising more and more.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You didn't reply. Your breathing started getting faster and faster, tears making your sight harder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

With a low growl, Simon started leading you to an isolated corner, where the pack wouldn't listen to what you two were saying.

When Simon stopped, he pushed you to the wall, not crowding you, but leaving enough space not to freak you out.

"Where were you going, Y/N?"

You sobbed.

"I- I don't know... you- you're angry—"

Simon clenched his jaw.

"I am... I am furious, you have no idea."

"I do, I can feel it in my bones," you replied, sobbing.

The sight of you shaking in fear and crying was too much for Simon's heart to handle.

He didn't know how to act, didn't know how to calm you down or what to say.

"Please... please don't—"

"Y/N..."

He said in a commanding tone that made you stop sobbing, looking up at him, sniffling and shaking, waiting for what he was about to say.

He lowered his face down to your level, studying your face under the fire pit lights.

Then, unexpectedly, his hand raised.

And by reflex, you flinched and closed your eyes, your body tensing in response, waiting for the blow to hit you anywhere.

But... you felt nothing, nothing at all.

No stinging feeling, no warm hit, nothing.

But Simon was still there. Of course you could feel him, his breath warm on your face, his scent embracing you from everywhere.

Confused, you slowly opened one eye, peeking at Simon, sniffling.

Your eyes met his, his gaze piercing through yours.

You opened your other eye, still confused, then looked and saw his hand still raised, close to your shoulder, but not touching.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered with the gentlest tone you'd heard coming from him.

And that, somehow, did ease your fear, not all of it, but mostly.

You didn't reply, just waiting for his next move, and then he slowly put his raised hand on your shoulder.

The fatherly way he touched your shoulder made the tension in your whole body release.

You let out an involuntary whine, feeling so overwhelmed with just one touch.

And then he spoke.

"You belong here, with us, with me."

Your breath hitched in surprise. You definitely weren't expecting acceptance.

Not after you said the truth, not after being a curse.

"W-what?" you asked, your voice shaking.

"You're ours, and we're yours... this territory is where you belong."

Simon saw the way you stared at him speechless, and that nearly melted his heart, his instincts doing nothing but wanting to keep you safe and sound, and never let you go through anything bad again.

"You're a blessing to us, not a curse."

You let out a strangled sob in shock. No one had ever told you you were a blessing, nor even treated you this way.

"Go get some rest, omega... and don't ever think that you don't belong with us."

With that, he walked away through the darkness of the night, leaving the cave, and leaving you with your own thoughts.

Your knees gave out, and you fell sobbing to the ground. You didn't know why you were even crying now.

Was it from relief, or from grief...

You weren't aware of your surroundings until you felt someone pulling you into the warmest hug.

It was Fiona.

And you had no other choice but to lean into her.

Because as much as you brought harmony to this family, your distress also brought them distress.

And they couldn't have you like this...

Days passed, and now things were way more different.

You started to settle in more than before, feeling way more comfortable being around the pack than ever.

You talked more, initiated things more, becoming more helpful than you already were.

And somehow, between the lines, you gained your smile back.

And this all didn't go unnoticed by Simon, not at all.

How could it go unnoticed when he was following you around like a shadow?

He made sure you were happy, that you indeed felt happy, that you didn't feel like a burden in this family.

And everyone noticed it too.

How their alpha was always close to you, watching you like a hawk.

How he always made sure you got your meal before he started eating, how he always looked around and didn't feel relieved until he spotted you.

How he always found his way next to you, sitting, eating, skinning, doing anything.

And how you both tried unconsciously to share each other's warmth as much as possible.

And then, something much bigger started happening.

Simon caught himself inhaling the scent left on your cloak after you took it off...

He started providing you with everything you could ever need without you saying it... more like gifts.

Warmer gloves—even when you were warmer than the whole pack—a carved spoon, lots and lots of dried meat, and a blanket full of his scent.

The blanket was your favorite one.

He told himself that you'd need it, but everyone knew better.

Simon unconsciously contributes to you. You wake up to find another blanket... his spare pillow, his jacket, soft animal pelts...

No note or explanation... just him making sure his scent covers you from head to toe.

And when Johnny asks him what's this all about—even when Johnny knows exactly what's starting to happen—Simon just replies with, "Just keeping her warm..."

"Right... keeping the one keeping us warm, warm? Yeah, that makes no sense," Johnny says teasingly.

And Simon doesn't elaborate or entertain him.

During patrols... Simon always ends up beside you.

During danger... he instinctively positions himself between you and the threat.

Not because you're weak, but because his instincts insist.

And during hunts, when they're all in their wolf forms, Simon can't stop grooming you.

From prey's blood, snow, leaves, anything.

And you also find yourself going to him whenever your fur feels dirty in the slightest.

And it has the whole pack watching.

You also start doing the same things for him.

Repairing his clothes, making space for him near the fire, bringing him food before yourself, tidying his den, leaving herbs for him after patrols.

You both don't realize what's happening. It almost feels as natural as ever.

You're courting each other, marking each other as your own, and you both haven't experienced something that feels so right and natural before.

Like you both have found each other, you both are meant to be.

And so, without any fancy words or declarations, the whole pack knew you were for each other, and that you both were mates to be.

And then one night, the forest was quiet, too quiet... the kind of silence only winter could bring.

Snow muffled every footstep, every rustle of pine branches overhead, until the only sounds left were the steady crunch of boots and the occasional gust of icy wind weaving through the trees.

Simon walked ahead, his steps steady and careful, and you followed behind him.

It was a patrol night. Johnny was supposed to go with him, but you wanted to go too, and being the good friend he is, he wasn't going to interrupt this cute little date under the moonlight.

That's why he kept watch over the pack instead.

The silence was too loud for you. You kept eyeing Simon from the side as he kept his gaze ahead.

He was too focused on patrolling, but also your presence was as loud as it always had been.

"We'll just keep walking?" you asked.

He looked down at you. "Hm? Yeah, why?"

You sighed and shook your head, trying to hide the disappointment. "Nothing..."

He smiled softly, picking up on your demeanor. "What? Bored?"

You smiled back shyly. That smile said everything, and he chuckled at that, the sound rich, deep, and genuine.

"Well, sorry, that's what patrolling is about," he said with a teasing smile.

You nodded and looked away, not complaining. It's fine, as long as you're with him, you don't have to complain.

You both kept walking in silence until Simon spoke out of nowhere.

"Want to race?"

You looked up at him, surprised. You let out a small chuckle. "Race?? With you?"

"Mhm," he replied, smiling.

"Oh... human form or wolf form?" you teased gently.

He chuckled. "As humans, right now."

Your face lit up at the offer. You looked at him mischievously, then looked ahead of you, then without a warning, you started running.

Simon let out a bark of laughter at your eagerness, and then he started following you, but with far less speed than he usually had.

That gave you a confidence boost, and you doubled your speed.

But before you knew it, your foot stumbled over a stone, and you fell down onto much harder ground than the snow-covered one.

"God!" you squeaked in surprise and pain, lifting yourself up into a sitting position.

Simon, on the other hand, felt his heart drop to his stomach, and the speed he ran to reach you was beyond calculating.

He knelt down in front of you.

"Are you okay? Are you hur—"

And before he could continue, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

The smell of your blood.

Your raw, unfiltered blood as it covered your palm, a drop making its way to the ground.

He had never, ever smelled something like this and been affected this way.

He knew your scent was special. It was the thing that had had control over him since that night he found you in the woods, but this...

It's like the real source seeping into his world.

He felt dizzy, high almost. He closed his eyes and let out a growl.

You looked at him and noticed the way he was reacting, thinking that he was concerned. You tried to comfort him.

"Hey, Simon, it's fine, really."

But he didn't hear any of your words, the scent seeming to have a hypnotizing effect on his alpha instincts.

Clouded with these intense feelings, the only word that repeated in his mind like some sort of spell:

"Protect, protect, protect..."

"Simon!" you shook his shoulder, and that's when he finally got back to reality, his eyes red and intense.

He stared at you, like everything was clicking into place right now, like everything was finally making sense.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concerned, because you'd never seen him like this, and you didn't understand what was going on inside of his head.

Simon looked back down at your palm, and he frowned.

The wound... it was gone.

"Where is it?" he asked, his voice low and vibrating.

You looked down at your now-healed palm, like it was something normal. "Oh... it's healed. I was trying to tell you I'm fine, but I don't know what happened to you."

He stared at you.

"What do you mean, gone?" he said through his teeth, his doubts finally coming to the conclusion of this madness.

"I, uh... I heal fast, the wounds get closed..." you said with a bit of insecurity...

You knew this was one of the things your father always called you out about, just making the whole "cursed" thing more convincing.

But to Simon? No... this wasn't a curse. It wasn't before, and certainly wasn't now at all, so he asked gently,

"How long have you been like this?"

You swallowed, feeling a bit nervous at the sudden attention to something you always hated about yourself, even when it was actually a gift everyone wished they had.

"Since I was born..."

That was the final straw for Simon. It all clicked into one thing, and one thing only.

He stared at you for a moment, not knowing what kind of favor he had done to stumble across an omega like you.

So he did something very gentle, something he hadn't done to anyone else in his life.

He leaned down, closing the distance between you two, and gave you a comforting kiss on your forehead.

You closed your eyes and just took it in, the sensation vibrating between you two, just making you feel like a puddle in his hands.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, giving you a small yet comforting smile.

"Let's go back, hm? We're done for today."

Back at the cave, the fire crackled throughout the place. Everyone was asleep, safe and sound.

Simon watched you as you slept, your chest moving gently with each breath you took, looking as peaceful as ever.

He now knew what you were.

Simon couldn't have been older than eight when he asked his mother why some wolves were said to be blessed by the Moon.

"Long before the packs we know today," his mother had said, brushing a hand through his hair, "the Moon blessed a handful of omegas with warm blood."

Young Simon had frowned, "Warm blood? Aren't we all warm?"

She smiled softly.

"Not like them. Their warmth wasn't only their own—it belonged to everyone around them. Wherever they went, winter seemed gentler. The sick recovered. Pups slept peacefully. Even the fiercest wolves found calm in their presence."

"Were they powerful?"

"Not in the way Alphas are," she replied. "They couldn't win wars with or teeth. They won them by keeping their packs alive."

Simon had been quiet for a moment before asking, "Then why don't we have them anymore?"

Her smile faded, "Because wolves are still wolves."

"What does that mean?"

"When the packs learned how precious they were, they stopped seeing them as people. They became prizes. Kings fought over them. Alphas stole them. Entire packs burned for the chance to claim one."

She looked toward the fire, her voice barely above a whisper, "To protect them, some hid them. Others say the Moon simply stopped blessing wolves with warm blood. No one truly knows."

Simon frowned, "How would someone know if they found one?"

His mother looked back at him, "You'd know."

"How?"

She tapped the center of his chest,"Your wolf would know before your mind ever could."

He laughed, "That doesn't answer my question."

She chuckled softly, "Their blood carries the scent of life itself. Any wolf who catches it feels it—not as hunger, but as something older. A need to protect. To shield. To keep that warmth alive."

She kissed his forehead, "Pray you never find one, Simon."

He blinked up at her, "Why?"

"Because the day you do...the whole world will want what you've found."

So that's what you were... a warm-blooded omega.

Blessed by the Moon itself, yet you had to grow up in a place that cursed you for being such a priceless being in this world.

Simon patted your hair gently, and that made you snuggle your face into his palm.

He smiled gently at the gesture, rubbing his thumb gently over your cheek.

"You're worth every drop of my blood, Y/N..."

And that's when Simon knew.

He'd never, ever let go of you.

Even if it cost him his life.

[escapism432]

ᴊᴏᴋᴇꜱ

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ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʏ ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ. ʜᴇ’ꜱ ɢʀᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ᴀ ʜᴏʀʀɪʙʟᴇ ᴅᴀᴅ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴛᴏɴᴇ. “ʜᴇᴀʀ ‘ʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛᴀᴜʀᴀɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ?”

ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴀꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴡ ꜰᴜʀʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ. “ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀᴘᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ᴀᴛᴍᴏꜱᴘʜᴇʀᴇ.”

ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴜʀʟ ᴜᴘ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱɴᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ.

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[nightshiftfics]

Stop Teasing Me.” — Simon Riley x Pregnant!Reader

___

You waddled into the kitchen half-asleep, wearing your giant moomoo dress, hair sticking out in every direction, one hand on your lower back, the other rubbing your eyes.

You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You just wanted breakfast.

Simon turned at the sound of your slippers scraping the floor — and immediately went still.

His eyes dragged from your messy hair, to your puffy morning cheeks, to the loose dress barely hanging on your shoulder. His grip on his mug tightened like he was physically restraining himself.

You blinked at him.

“…What?”

He let out a slow, controlled breath.

“Stop teasing me.”

Your face twisted. “Huh? Teasing you? I look like I just crawled out of a tornado.”

He set the mug down, stepped closer, jaw tight like you’d personally attacked his self-control.

“That’s the problem.”

“What problem?”

He gestured helplessly at you. “Dressed like that. Hair everywhere. Walkin’ in all sleepy and soft…”

His voice dropped, rough and low.

“Bloody hell, love — it’s so sexy.”

You stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “In my moomoo?”

“In that moomoo,” he corrected firmly. “You don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me.”

You barked a laugh. “Simon, I look like a pregnant potato.”

He cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your warm cheeks.

“A sexy potato,” he muttered, absolutely serious.

You choked. “That is not a compliment.”

“It is when I say it.” He leaned closer, forehead touching yours. “You walk in here lookin’ soft and sweet and… mine. And I’m supposed to keep calm?”

You felt your face heat more than it already was.

“Simon, I’m literally a mess.”

“Love,” he whispered, voice dropping even lower, “you could roll in here in a trash bag and I’d still think you’re the sexiest thing alive.”

Your laugh was half-embarrassed, half-flustered. “So… me breathing is teasing you?”

“Exactly.” His arms slid around your waist, pulling you against him carefully. “You don’t even try. That’s why it’s torture.”

You hugged him back, shaking your head.

“I’m not teasing you, Simon.”

“You are,” he murmured into your hair. “Even if you don’t mean to.”

You grin into his chest.

“So you’re suffering?”

He groaned dramatically. “Terribly.”

And he held you, warm and careful, like even your messy-hair-moomoo chaos version was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

___

a/n: short post for now :)

[xinmin-exe]

Something something the poly!141 with crafty!reader…

The first time you invited Gaz over, his eyes immediately went to the giant, crochet ditto sitting on the couch. His eyes went wide, not evening trying to act like he was hearing anything you said. “..um, Kyle?” Your eyes follow his and heat rises to your face. “Oh, I can uh.. I can understand if you wanna go..” you say, your voice so defeated and sad. So many past dates almost disgusted with your plushie because “they’re for kids, not grown adults.”

Kyle looked more offended than you’d expect. “Lovie.. that’s bloody incredible,” he moves over to the couch to touch the ditto and he nearly whines at how soft the yarn is. “Where did you get it?” Your face heats up even more at his reaction. “..I made it, actually.” From then on, Kyle knew you were a keeper. And so did the 141, so when things became official.. so did all the crochet requests.

Price wanted something for his office chair, citing years of field work damaging his spine. “You dodge one too many grenades and suddenly you can’t bend over without fuckin’ groaning..” You’d hear him mumble from his office as he knelt down to pick something up. You make sure to get the fluffiest, softest yarn you can find for him. And now, if anyone asks about it he snaps a quick “none of your business,” at them with a glare.

Soap got an Atlantic Puffin. “Ah’ve always loved ‘em, dunno know, just somethin’ about the wee birds,” he said offhandedly one afternoon while he and you were watching Ghost and Gaz spar. His face lit up like Christmas when you presented the puffin to him, and he’d never admit it out loud but he did tear up a little. His ma always called him her “little puffin”, due to Soap being extremely loyal and highly sociable just like the birds.

Gaz asked for a ditto, just like the one on your couch. But when you went to the store to buy the yarn, you felt conflicted. You knew he wanted one, but you still wanted to it feel special and specific to him. So what do you do? You make his ditto a little hat, just like the one he wears. He doesn’t speak for a moment or two when you show him, all he does is pull you into the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten and mumbles something about “..best gift ever..” He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone yet, but his family wasn’t the riches growing up, holidays were often spent alone. So any gift is by default special to him, but something so personalized? He felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

For Ghost, you originally thought you’d make him a ghost! Simple and to the point, kinda like he was. But as time went on, you made him something completely out of left field. After weeks of searching and hours of work, you finally presented ghost a weighted black cat. At first, even though Ghost happily accepted the gift, he only planned to let it sit somewhere in his room. But after on particularly bad night, with too many memories about Roba, he subconsciously reached for the cat. And the moment the weight hit his chest? Oh, the scary lieutenant had turned into a pile of mush. The next morning he approached you. “… can you make a brown cat?..” he whispered quietly. The brown one was for his nephew Joseph.

[motzglorp]

Inspired by this lovely bit @silverlullabies gifted us.

Omega!reader who accepted a long time ago that their scent is disgusting because it reminds people of blood and gunpowder.

It might have been acceptable for an alpha but not for an omega. How would you ever be able to soothe your pups with this kind of violent scent? Nothing sweet or calming about you. You had to wear blockers from a young age because your scent was disturbing for others. When you entered the military you quickly learned that you could cause flashbacks with your scent and it had been used against prisoners more than once until you couldn't take it anymore. It left you broken in ways you didn't even fully understand, all you knew was that alphas either found you disgusting, disturbing or they were panicking, because all their instincts screamed 'wounded omega' once they got so much as a whiff of you.

You adapted. Scent blockers and suppressants, special mandatory leave once a year to go through a heat, so you could avoid long term affects on your health. Although you hoped secretly that your body would finally give up the craving for a mate and pups. You would never have that and you found it ridiculous to keep pretending otherwise.

So you grow cold. They call you ice princess. You don't object. You learn to use your scent like a weapon, a tool. Best decoy on the field to lure the enemy to the injured omega, only to find a deadly surprise. Easy to slip into shelters and hospitals. You are very specialised and the professional praise you get has to be enough to feed your twisted omega side.

When you join a mission with the 141 you don't expect it to be any different. You tell them they don't need to know your scent, but they insist, so they know what to prepare for and not get confused. Fair enough.

And of course you are not surprised by the looks of pity and sadness Gaz and Soap give you when they realise the reason why you use the thick patches and never participate in friendly scenting

What you are absolutely unprepared for is the way Ghost takes a deep breath, then another and then growls when Price calls him back. He doesn't move. Instead he grabs you, holds you close and presses his nose to your scent glands like an addict.

And you have no idea what to do because you can feel his length and a knot building, pressed against your hip. Hands that hold you but in a way that feels protective. And your brain screaming alpha alpha alpha at you.

[pricecallme]

workplace flirting | 141 x doctor!reader

Prompt: You are a doctor on base and become the 141's work wife.

The double doors fluttered shut behind you, nearly thrown off their hinges in your flurry to escape the cacophony of the ER. Your heels clicked a staccato rhythm on the tile, echoing your irritation.

Your morning wake-up call was a code blue for an unlucky private that choked on his own vomit, and that immediately spiraled into two cadets that nearly blew off their fingers messing with fireworks.

Sometimes it feels like you are a pediatrician and not a military physician. All things considered, you are now in desperate need for a cup of coffee and a little peace and quiet in your office.

"Morning glory," Soap, one of your 'work husbands' as you've taken to calling them, was sat in your chair with his boots up on your desk.

"Johnny, I told you to stop calling me that."

"Why not? It's morning and it's a glory to see you." He winked, standing up and gesturing for you to take a seat. Your aching feet thanked him as you dropped down into the warm leather chair.

"Don't you have things you need to do?"

"Something more important came up." Soap answered, cheeky. His hands found your shoulders when you sat down, calloused thumbs massaging into your nape.

"Mm, that's nice," you hummed, eyes closing.

A quick knock on your door woke you back up. Gaz, another 'work husband', stood there with your favorite mug in hand. "Hope I'm not interrupting," he said, inviting himself inside.

You moaned at the smell of coffee. "You're a life saver, Kyle."

Gaz set the mug down on your desk, flashing one of those smiles that made your nurses giggle whenever he stopped by. "My pleasure, love."

Behind you, Soap scoffed. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Another pair of boots entered your small office. Price sighed at the sight that greeted him. "There you idiots are. We got debrief in 15." His gaze turned warm when he looked your way, "Morning, beautiful."

"Good morning, Captain." You took a slow sip of your coffee, letting your eyes run over him. "Busy today?"

"Let's just say you're a sight for sore eyes." Price spared you the details, but the lines in his face told you the big picture.

"Where's your shadow?" You asked, looking for the Ghost.

"Over here."

You jumped out of your skin, nearly splashing coffee on your scrubs. The men in the room didn't react at all, turning a leisure gaze over to the corner where Ghost's looming figure stood silently.

"Were you there the entire time?" You questioned, hand over your heart.

"Yes," Ghost and Soap both answered.

Mildly terrifying experience aside, you didn't have time to dwell on it before your work buzzer went off. You cursed, quickly gulping down the rest of the hot coffee.

"Duty calls?" Ghost asked, amused.

You wiped away a bit of the coffee that clung to your lips, gasping. "Unfortunately."

When you stood up, you wobbled a bit on your heels, getting whiplash from the shot of caffeine and their undivided attention.

At once, all four of them reached out to steady you. You waved it away though, fully capable of walking on your own two feet.

"Thanks for the visit, boys." You said, tapping Gaz's cheek affectionately when you passed by. "And the coffee, handsome."

You didn't stay long enough to hear the boys dissolve into chaos. They were always shocked whenever you flirted back.

[browneyedgirll]

TIME APART - KONIG; CALL OF DUTY

wife!reader x dad!konig

word count: 782

contents: Small 18+, fluff

Twelve long months, that’s how long Konig had been gone. Twelve grueling months of military deployment with the KorTac force team. He hadn’t wanted to go but they needed him for the job, so begrudgingly he left his wife, and his two boys behind. He worried when he got back all would be changed, that boys wouldn’t recognize him, and you would be fed up with his leave. 

Slowly he pushed his metal key through the lock before pushing open the door. As soon as he passed the threshold he heard the high pitch squeals of his sons as they ran about the house. He could see your figure in the kitchen looming over the steaming stove as you cooked dinner. 

“ Papa! ”

Both toddlers came running at Konig like two small linebackers. Both boys had taken after their father in height and weight, now at the age of two you could barely hold one of them let alone both. 

“ Papa isn’t here, babies, he’ll be home soon. ”

“ Mein schatz, I’m home.. ”

Immediately your head rose, your gaze leaving the vegetables in front of you immediately landing on the burly man in the center of your living room. Before you could process your own movements you were running to Konig. You threw your arms around his neck and almost instantly Konig’s arms found your waist. He picked you up as if you were weightless bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as he held you. 

“ I missed you so much.. ”

“ I missed you more. ”

With gentle hands you reached for the hem of his balaclava tugging it over his head before peppering his scarred face in kisses. Slowly your lips found his, bringing them to meet in a kiss filled with longing and unspoken words. 

All the while you shared this passionate rekindlement your sons stood below tugging and pulling at Konig’s cargo pants. Their giggles filled the quiet of the room as they chanted and demanded their father’s attention. 

Carefully Konig set you down before dropping to his knees to greet his sons with open arms. 

“ Have you been good to mama while I was gone? ”

The boys only mustered laughs and giggles in response. Immediately they attacked Konig with slobbery kisses and hugs. Not before long they broke away fetching their newest and most beloved toys to show their father. 

“ Papa look! Train. ” 

Konig acted as if each toy was the best thing he had ever seen. Waiting until they grew bored and ran off to do the next best thing, and not soon after they did just that. 

Konig stood sauntering back over to you, letting his arms wrap around your waist. His head dipped down, his lips found yours in a meaningful kiss. Slowly it began to deepen, his tongue brushing over your lips. You were wearing a cherry lip balm and it only made him crave you more.

“ Is dinner finished? ”

“ Mhm.. Just cooling it for the boys. ”

Gently Konig pulled away from you going to make the boys plates. You stood quiet beside the dining room table watching as your husband moved about the kitchen. Plates in hand Konig approached the table placing each plate in front of the boys highchairs. Effortlessly he collected both of them before buckling and seating them. Once they were taken care of he pulled you along into the nearby bathroom. A giggle escaped your lips as Konig closed the door, sealing you into the private little chamber. 

“ What are we doing? ”

“ Stealing a few minutes of peace.. ”

Konig’s hands traveled down to your hips before his lips found yours once more. His tongue slipped out again, once more tasting that fruity cherry lip balm. Carefully his tongue parted your lips slowly pushing into your mouth. Soft moans slipped from your lips as the kiss intensified. Each moment together was only building the passion from being away from each other. You never needed Konig as much as you did in this moment. It had been twelve long months alone without him, and now you craved him. 

Konig’s hands were beginning to travel under your shirt, his fingers pressing harder into your skin as he fought the urge to take you right there. He was a trained soldier built to withstand the worst of tortures but right now he found himself giving into you. The fight was dying in him as his hands traveled further under your shirt brushing against your bra until you were interrupted.

“ Mama! Papa! All Done! ” 

You parted from each other with a shaky laugh, your eyes finding one another's. Neither one of you were mad at the boys, but you did remember the simpler times before children.

[luvrdollz]

͏͏⸻ nsfw . simon ghost riley ֺ ⊹

ghost fucking your throat viscously, tears well up in your innocent bambi eyes as the room floods with filthy wet moans. he pats the back of your head, encouraging you like the good little doll you are to take him whole

until your eyes are rolling back, fluttering shut due to the intense burn, drool dribbling down onto the floor creating a small puddle. his cock forming a bulge down your neck as you struggle to breath, gagging from his massive size as he continues thrusting relentlessly

"ey, easy love, don't be blackin' out on me" he taps your cheeks with his gloved fingers, wiping your smudged mascara as he pulls out of your mouth. you wrap your arms around his calf clinging to him, as you bury your face against his thigh letting out little whimpers, pain and pleasure electrifying your body, looking up at him with hazed eyes too fucked to think straight

he tilts his head to the side slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. his fingers move slowly through your hair, waiting for your breathing to settle. the second he decides you are calm enough, he jolts your chin sharply, forcing you upwards and back to where you belong

right in front of his dick, with his cock resting on your tongue, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes waiting for him to stuff you again, his perfect little doll

[p3achr-ngs]

Dumb dog hybrid x 141 blurb

(I wouldn't exactly call her a bimbo. But it's like that for dog hybrids where she's just low-key kinda dumb. Nothing in the head yk)

You're there mainly as the base's emotional support dog, but really it's like they're emotionally supporting you. When you first arrived, you were nothing but tongue out, happy panting and smiling. Nothing behind those eyes. The temporary handler had your leash on, practically getting dragged by you.

Price stood there, hands behind his back as he got ready to greet the new member. Expecting professional behavior from an emotional support dog. Nope. Instead he got jumped on.

"Hi! Hi! Hello! Hi!"

You panted right in his face before Giving him a long lick from his chin, up to his forehead. Tail going 100mph.

Then he had to lead you into the base, pain in the ass because you kept trying to follow everyone you see. Of course those who stopped to coo and pet you did not help your behavior at all.

The captain decided it would be better to get you alone, hopefully allowing you to calm down before he introduced you to the others. For twenty minutes it worked. You curled up at the tiny couch in his office. A heavy sigh left from you as you began closing your eyes. Until..

Knock..

Knock..

"capt? You in there? Need you to look at some papers-"

Kyle. Oh poor Kyle. He came in holding the papers. And within a blink of an eye they were flying everywhere. Kyle was on the ground. You on top of him wagging your tail and licking his fsce

" Hi! Hello! Hi!"

You pant.

" get off the sergeant girl"

Price grumbled tiredly.

You huffed before prancing back to the couch. Sitting down but tail still wagging. Poor Kyle was dazed and confused.

" She's our emotional support??"

Kyle asked flabbergasted, picking up his papers and giving it to Price.

" show her to Johnny and Simon. "

Price ordered.

Kyle looked nervous but shrugged. You couldn't be that bad right?

Wrong.

"GET AWAY FROM MA CROTCH"

Johnny jumped. You nose deep getting his scent as you were on your knees. Tail wagging, you panting.

Then you ran up Simon. Who was just trying to sit and relax. Instantly cobbing his mask... Then trying to take his mask off. Like a game of tug of war. Playful grows as Simon fights for his life.

[kooolgirl]

sounding like a prayer

pairing: husband!simon “ghost” riley x wife!reader

summary: as much as you like it rough, gentle sex with your husband is just as good

masterlist!

a/n: requests are open!!!

“sweet’eart, yer so lovely,” your husband softy grunts into your ear, “so, so lovely,” his groans deepen with each thrust.

you were laid on your back, arms and legs securely binded around simon’s muscular body, the larger man rested on top of you, completely swallowing your form with his. his beefy biceps sat on either side of your head, blocking your peripheral vision. you were totally consumed by simon.

it’s been a while since the two of you had sex in missionary— even longer for such gentle sex, your husband’s pace slow and sensual.

his thick, girthy cock was reaching deep places in your pussy while brushing against your g-spot. drawn out, “love you so much,” departed both of you, your cunt tightening around the brit when you’d make eye contact.

“mmfph, si— oh!” when your husband hit just the right spot. “please! k-keep going,” you quietly begged, your eyes never leaving his, “right there— unngh” you interrupted yourself with your lewd moaning.

he moved a gruff hand to grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together, creating a pout, “‘s tha so?” he kissed your pouted lips, pulling all the way out of your cunt, “righ’ ‘ere?” he questioned, slamming back in.

this emits a yelp from you, simon shoving his cock in balls deep. “love hearin’ ya scream, baby,” he somehow rams further, strangled “ow’s” rumbling from the back of your throat.

still clenching your cheeks, he grabs your left hand with his, the clink of the metal from your matching wedding bands ringing in the air. “hon, fuck— can feel yer pussy clenchin m’,” your husband falls back on top of you, strong abs rested on your plush tits, his hips slowly humping you, “takin’ m’ so well.”

finally adjusting to your husband’s giant size, like you had to everytime you fucked, you took matters into your own hands. using your arms and legs, you tightened your grip, rolling your hips against simon’s.

the brute instantly responded, dropping both his hands to clutch your hips, “unngh, y/n—” now it was his turn to uncontrollably moan, “m’ g-gonna cum if ya do tha, luvie’,” he stuttered out, surprise washing over your features.

you’d never heard simon stutter before, the military lieutenant always in full control of every situation, even when he was head over heels in euphoria. oh, you were relishing in this moment.

“i don’t care, si. i want to make you feel good,” you answered, speeding the movement of your hips, “i’m gonna cum too.”

hearing his sweet wife admit that— the man lost his mind, only focused on sending you over the edge.

witnessing the hunger in his eyes, you prepared yourself, sensing your husband’s strong arms encircling your torso. simon sat up on his knees when he made sure you were secured in his hold, lifting your torso off the bed to fuck you.

your husband was so fucking strong, using his strength to slide you forward and backwards, syncing it with the timing of his thrusts. guess m’ don’ needa go to tha gym today, he joked to himself.

you couldn’t hold back any longer, your intoxicating moaning turned into borderline screaming. you wouldn’t be surprised if the police arrived for a welfare check.

“yes. yes. yes—” you repeated, sounding like a prayer to the brit, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “g-god, si, i-i’m gonna cum—” “give it to m’,” he slapped a tit, “be a good girl and cum.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, your orgasm washing over you, satisfied whines softly exiting your chest. your legs quivered around simon’s waist while you tried to catch your breath, the man coming soon after, shooting his hot sperm into your womb.

he kissed your cheek, bringing your left hand to his mouth, kissing along your knuckles, showing extra affection to your ringed one, “m’ sweet wife. love ya so much.”

[cntloup]

18+ MDNI i'm ovulating! :: simon riley x fem!reader

ever since you and your husband, simon, decided to have children, you've been on each other nonstop, fucking on every surface in the house and knocking over several expensive items while lost in the heat of the moment. doesn't matter. he'll replace them with the ungodly amount of money he has in his account.

he'd bend you over the counter every time he finds you in the kitchen cooking, a thin sundress hugging all your delicious curves just right, images of your swollen belly flooding his mind, full and round with his seed. the food is forgotten every single time. only you and putting a baby in you on his mind.

he'd fold you in half when you're in bed reading, wearing only a tank top that gives him easy access to your tits and leaves your belly exposed and a pair of shorts that accentuates your perky ass. he'd tear them off you and put your legs over his shoulders as he splits you wide open for him.

he finds you absolutely irresistible in every state. you know it as a fact. it bleeds over in his every word and action. yet it doesn't make your worries go away. still, your mind wanders. would he ever get tired?

you push the thoughts away. a feral need bubbling inside you as you think about your husband, his scarred lips on your hot skin, bulky weight pressing you into the mattress as his burly arms cage your body beneath him, broad shoulders holding your legs beside your ears, a large rough hand wrapped around your throat while he's buried to the hilt inside you.

you're ovulating. and you need him right now. so you call him. "si, i need you." and he's on his way. doesn't matter that he's on base in an important meeting. he's leaving right away, ignoring price's shouts of protest. he'll understand when simon tells him later. his wife needs him. and there's nothing more important than that.

you're pouncing on him as soon as he walks through the door. he catches you with ease as you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him with an untamed desperation.

"sorry, si. i know it was important—"

"doesn't matter, love."

"by the way, i'm ovulating."

"bloody hell, woman. lead with that next time."

immediately, your mouths are on each other, lips and tongues latching onto one another, kissing, nipping, biting every part of skin you can find, covering in saliva and marking each other, hot and heavy, your hands moving desperately across the other's body to grab every piece of flesh.

you're discarding each other's clothes when you mention it. breathing shakily as your movements subside, looking away from his intense eyes, you finally tell him.

"si, i'm worried that it becomes a chore."

he stops.

looking you over, an expression of utter disbelief takes over his face.

"a chore?" he finally speaks, voice laced with subtle mockery.

you look into his eyes for a moment, only to shy away again and look down.

he guides you to lay back on the bed as he hovers above you.

leaning in, dangerously close, his lips graze yours. he grabs your jaw to make you look at him, eyes darkened as he speaks in a deep voice.

"you think fuckin my wife is a chore for me?"

you don't dare to respond.

his lips capture yours briefly, only to slide down to your jaw, then your neck, coating your skin in a string of saliva as he glides down to your collarbone, tracing its line with his lips as his hands find your breasts, squeezing as if it's a warning to your previous words, his calloused skin a delicious contrast on your silky smooth one that makes you go wild. his lips wrap around your hard nipples, sucking and licking as you moan softly for him. he chuckles at your reaction, causing heat to spread across your cheeks.

he grabs your hips, kissing your exposed belly and covering the expanse of it with his hand, gently touching as he thinks about filling you up, all soft and swollen with his seed growing inside you. his hard cock throbs at the mere thought of it, dripping precum onto the sheets as his hips jerk forward involuntarily and he humps the mattress.

his lips reach your mound and he stops just above your slit, lifting himself up on his hands. his adoring eyes marvel at your beauty, drinking in the literal work of art splayed out before him. his pupils are blown out, eyes completely black as he looks at you and leans in, rough fingertips sliding up and down your wet slit, spreading your arousal along your folds.

"you think i'd ever get tired of this pussy?"

you gulp audibly. his hot breath fanning against your lips, he cups your pussy with one large hand, his middle finger sliding through your folds and teasing your entrance.

you gasp. "please, si..."

you grasp his shoulders in a desperate hold as he goes on teasing you.

"please what, darling?"

a sly smirk spreads across his face, only adding to your frustration.

"please. i need you inside me, si." you beg, "please, si. need your cock so bad."

in that moment, he thinks you're the most beautiful you've ever been, pleading so sweetly for him, sprawled out beneath him like an offering, all for him to take.

his lips are on yours in an instant, spreading your legs further apart and pushing your knees to your chest before propping them over his shoulders.

he slides into you so easily, your soaking wet pussy ready to take him in, thick throbbing cock splitting your needy cunt open. his lips never leave yours as he lets out a groan into your mouth, mixing with your whiny moans as you're all stretched out by his fat cock.

"fuck! look at this greedy pussy," he breathes in between kisses, bottoming out inside you, "so fuckin wet and desperate for me."

giving you no time to adjust, he starts thrusting in and out ferociously, yet with the meticulous precision of a man on a mission.

"fuckin swallowing me whole, baby." he grunts, "like you were made for me."

his relentless assault on your needy cunt leaves no room for you to breathe, only choked out moans slipping through your lips.

"fuuuck, siiii.... ahhh—"

"fuckin pussy was made for me." he groans in your ear, "made for me to fuck. all mine. forever."

his strong hips slam into you, heavy balls slapping your ass repeatedly as your wet pussy squelches to accommodate his hefty size. the obscene sound echoing through the room.

"gonna breed this pretty pussy, love." he hisses, "so fuckin tight f’me. so, so lovely. "

your hands run across his muscular back and biceps, nails raking over his skin as you lose your mind entirely in an overwhelming state of bliss.

you're a fucked out mess, your hair splayed all over the pillows, skin dampened with beads of sweat, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and mouth falling agape with broken moans as your husband ruins you.

"fuckin look at you, love." he says, " you're so fuckin beautiful."

"siii, please— ahh..."

"i know, baby. i know. let it out. let me hear you."

of course you obey, letting him hear your desperate moans as you beg him to fill you up.

"you think i'd ever get tired of this?" he says, delivering a particularly sharp thrust that knocks the air out of your lungs, "think again, sweetheart."

he reaches over, large hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding in a secure grip. his eyes are fixated on yours, darkened with lust, yet filled with an unspoken sincerity.

"tell me what you want, love. want me to breed you? huh?"

"yes— yesss plsss sii ahh— fill me up... breed me"

a familiar sensation starts approaching, a tightness coiling inside your belly, your moans and whimpers turning higher, walls growing tighter around him, signaling him that you're close.

"let go for me, baby. cum on my cock."

he's fucking you so vigorously your head spins wildly, fat tip reaching far deep inside you and slapping against your spongy cervix over and over again.

in less than a moment, you're flooded with an all-consuming sense of pure ecstasy, screaming his name as your muscles convulse and shake beneath him, your soaked cunt clamping down on him and creaming around his shaft.

"that's it, love. give it to me. good girl." he groans, "so fuckin tight, baby... ahh— gonna milk me dry."

his thrusts turn faster and shallow as he reaches his peak. he holds your trembling body tighter and fucks you through your high as his own orgasm approaches. a deep growl escapes his throat as he empties his balls inside you. it's filthy how much he cums. loads and loads of thick white cum painting your womb, his seed filling you up to the brim, plugged up by his cock still seated inside you. and he hopes that it will finally take this time.

[pricesprincess]

John + 18 !!

tags: explicit smut + blowjob + snowballing + + you and john are parents + prompt game: open

"Oh, fuck, lovie." John grunted low in his throat as he sank his cock inside you again with a filthy wet shlick, you could hear the mess you made of each other when he fucked you a bit faster.

Somehow you ended up in the bathroom at a friend's house for gamenight—the first kid-free time you had since your baby was born a few months ago—and your husband had unknowingly walked in on you fixing your bra. He stepped inside and shut the door with a smirk.

"Fancy meetin' you here." John murmured in your ear as he helped, he made you laugh and swat at his chest, and then you leaned in to kiss him, which led to this. Being bent over the sink and getting plowed.

His eyes, usually a brighter blue, were darkened with lust as he stared down at the way your hole clenched around him. He spread your cheeks to get a better view of the creamy slick you left behind.

Your free hand slapped over your mouth each time he bounced your ass off of his hips, his cock buried so deep inside you all you could do was moan and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. It was hot, the way he groped your tits gently and then your curves. "So perfect, and all mine."

"John!" You moaned and reached behind to grab his shirt as you fell into the sink, feeling your feet lifting off the floor. He hissed something through his teeth, feeling your cunt hug him even tighter. His fingers sank into the fat of your hips as leverage and bullied his cock deeper.

You squealed, feeling your orgasm send you into orbit. Choking on a moan, your pussy attempted to milk John for everything he had.

Thick hot ropes filled you and leaked around his dick that still plugged you fully. "That was hot, even though it was a quickie, we still have it." You giggled, meeting his gaze with a fucked-out look in your eyes.

John patted your ass, knowing it was time to leave before your friends teased you both, but you stopped him as he tried to zip himself up. "I made such a mess, baby, it's only right that I clean it up," you purred.

You dropped to your knees and leaned against the cabinet for support as you looked at the cum that coated John's dick. He didn't get a single word out before you opened your mouth and licked him clean.

"You little fuckin' minx." He gasped and gripped the edge of the counter as you sucked him off, taking him all the way in to the back of your throat so you didn't miss a spot. You pulled back with a milky white string of spit bridging from your mouth to the tip of his cock.

John sighed and helped you up, kissing you, swapping the load back and forth. Then he broke away and stepped out silently, leaving you to gather yourself to face everyone.

[katabby]

Kidnapped pet reader who just acts as a dumb kitten all day

You were the local clerk at a gas station, always polite, albeit a bit tired at times. You didn't ask many questions, just the typical script, which is why it makes so little sense Ghost would imprint on you.

You should've been just like every other civilian. A little annoying, maybe scared of his stature, or even flirtatious. He'd seen enough of the flirty kinds to adapt. They always ran when they saw his face, anyways.

The only strange thing about you was the fact that you never questioned anything. Like, anything. It could be 5AM and he'd be buying nothing but an energy bar, and you'd just smile and ask "Will that be all?"

He was starting to wonder if he could show up without a mask and you wouldn't even bat an eye. At some point, Johnny found out about you from his drunk spillings at the bar.

"You know that dumb kit at the petrol?" He would hiccup, earning a quizzical look from Johnny. "They cute, innit?"

"If you're into tha'."

"I am," Simon grunts.

Johnny doesn't think much about it, though it's a bit strange his nearly 50 year old Lieutenant has his eyes on a barely 25 store clerk. To each their own.

This all makes it especially strange when you suddenly feel more sleepy than more awake drinking your coffee. You really had to get to work, but.. the warmth of your bed was calling you.

Simon watched as you fell back asleep cuddled up with worn out stuffed animals and felt his heart skip a beat. You were most certainly the one.

You half expected to wake up on the table during your break, but no. You were surrounded by your stuffed animals and blankets, but it most definitely wasn't your bed. The smell was off, the mattress was much too soft and accommodating to your body. Maybe you were just feeling extra comfortable from waking up.. Yeah, that's it.

When you crawled out of bed, you tripped immediately, not taking note of the metal chain tied to your ankle from the bed. This.. wasn't normal at all now..

Lifting your head, your vision began to clear from the sleepy fog, noting that many of your posters were no longer on the walls and.. this wasn't your bedroom! Shit, what the fuck, had you been kidnapped?!

You looked around frantically, only a small window out of reach from your bed. You could drag the bed over to it, but the scraping would surely alert your kidnappers if your collapse hadn't already. In fact, who would wanna kidnap you?! You had no money, you certainly weren't that attractive, so who-

The door creaked open, revealing the large, much-too-familiar customer from your work. He didn't have a mask on, revealing his face. He was more scar tissue than human, the side of his mouth torn open and exposing his teeth. His eyebrows had been burnt off, leaving the deformed skin as a hollow reminder of the event.

He stared down at you, not entirely with decit, you think, but maybe a bit of adorance that you never could place before. He always watched your hands fiddle with cash, but you assumed he was impatient that you took too long. His fault for handing a twenty for a three dollar energy bar! The fuck?!

You crawled back as far as your chain would let you, suddenly much too aware of the space between you, the window, and him.

"What.. why-" You stuttered out but the meaning was already lost.

He raised his hands carefully as though to show he wasn't a threat (of course he was!!!), slowly approaching you like a fearful cat.

You scrambled back into the bed, searching the bed for any form of weapon, of which he suddenly stopped. He sat down in a nearby chair and just.. watched you. Accepting that this was as far as you'd let him get close without screaming.

You both kept eye contact for a while, waiting for the other person to make another move. He subtly shifted, you flinched, he froze and moved back.

After a while, you managed to settle back into the bed, grasping at your plushies and staring off into space. He didn't seem to want to hurt you, and he was trying not to scare you, so he couldn't be that bad.. right?

This little clerk was terrified of him, shaking like he was holding a gun at them. If anything, they're the weaponized one. Huge, babydoll eyes- If they just asked to be released while crying, he isn't sure if he'd be able to say no.

He wanted so badly to pet them, but the idea of them crying and fumbling back makes him want to kill himself. On the bright side, they seem to be enjoying their bed. They slept for nearly 12 hours!

What he'd give to have them sleeping on top of him...

It did take a few days before you opened up enough to not flinch when he came in. He brought you nice food, and, when you let him get close enough, let you roam around the room.

You would mostly sit in the corner poking at the books and magazines he brought you, all paper cover obviously and barely heavier than a rock. He liked sitting with you and watching your hands brush over the papers. He'd happily get you more if you just asked..

"Why did you take me..?"

He looked up suddenly. You hadn't spoken directly to him ever, he'd be a fool to pass this up.

"Pretty," he gruffly stated, kicking himself mentally a second after.

You gave him a look like he was the biggest liar ever, it made him want to dig a hole out of embarrassment.

"Pretty?"

"Very."

You kept eye contact for a while before you looked back to your magazines.

"You never judged me," he suddenly says after a moment. "I want to take care of you. I'll get you whatever, just ask, dont leave."

You didn't look up, but you mulled over what he said for a bit.

"You have a computer?"

A nod.

You sat in his lap whilst starting up your steam save file.

[graywrenhart]

thinking about simon riley getting jealous of the things you put in your mouth...

Simon should really look away. 

But he can’t. Because the way your lips close around that grenade pin, teeth gripping the metal as you jerk your head back and pull it free? Well, it has him thinking dangerous things.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you as you throw it right into the enemy’s pile of ammo and it explodes with a deafening boom. And when you turn to him, framed in fire, a triumphant smile on that pretty mouth? 

He’s done for. 

Back on base, it’s pure coincidence that he walks past the gym and sees you inside, giving the punching bag hell. His boots falter as you whip around, focused and mean, and strike the bag with your glove hard. The impact rattles the chain and stirs hot, wicked embers deep in his gut. 

Suddenly, you turn, eyes snapping to his through the window. But Simon can’t bring himself to move. Slowly, you raise your hand and rip the velcro strap of your glove back with your teeth, pulling it tighter around your wrist.

He swallows hard, but walks on past.

The tension finally comes to a head late one night at the range. You’re there with your newly issued Glock, putting a few rounds through it before the op the next day when he silently chooses the lane next to yours, despite all the rest being empty. 

You don’t say anything, but your eyes flick to his under his mask as you bring a bullet to your lips. You tuck the blunt end between your canines, cock the chamber back, and then proceed to drop the bullet into the gun.

Simon watches you, his gaze catching on the purse of your lips, your lashes brushing your cheeks as you grab another and place it into the slot with your mouth, the way your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip to taste the gunpowder—

Suddenly, he’s moving, shoving his way into your lane and plucking the bullet from your lips with two gloved fingers. 

“Want somethin’  in your mouth so bad?” he grunts. “All you have’ta do is ask.”

“God, Ghost,” you groan, hands already fumbling with his belt. “Fucking finally—”

[voidsw0rld]

Those baby blues

I'm obsessed with Price's baby blue eyes sooooooo bad, anywho little headcannon for papa...

Price knew exactly how much power his eyes held over you—and he was entirely too quick to use it to his advantage. Whenever an argument flared up, all it took was for him to look down at you with those striking baby blues, and your anger would instantly melt away. You utterly hated how easily he disarmed you, but if you were being honest, it was the exact thing that had made you fall for him in the first place.

"John, you said you’d do the laundry! Why am I still looking at a pile of unwashed bedsheets?" you called out, utterly exasperated. Getting John to handle household chores was a chore in itself.

"Mmhmm, in a minute, love," his voice drifted back from the living room, completely distracted. His eyes were glued to the TV, tracking the Sunday football match.

Rolling your eyes, you marched into the living room and planted yourself directly in front of the television, completely blocking his view.

Instead of getting annoyed, he just looked up at you, thoroughly amused. The corners of his eyes crinkled with warmth, completely unfazed by your stern expression.

"Come here, love," he murmured, sitting up and patting his thighs, motioning for you to settle into his lap.

With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and sat down, though you kept your posture rigid. "I'm serious. Now that you're home, you should be helping out more around the house," you scowled, crossing your arms tightly.

You purposely kept your gaze locked anywhere but his face, trying desperately to maintain your firm stance.

John leaned in, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He peppered soft, distracting kisses against your skin, nodding along to validate your frustration. "I know, love. Can you ever forgive me for being such an unmannered brute?" he pleaded with mock sincerity.

He leaned back just enough to catch your gaze, staring up at you with wide, innocent blue eyes like a kicked puppy.

A traitorous smile threatened to break across your face. He had you right where he wanted you, and he knew it.

"I'll think about it," you muttered, turning your head away as a warm blush began creeping up your cheeks.

You felt a rough, calloused hand gently cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone to turn your face back toward him.

"Have I ever told you how sexy it is when you get all pissy?" he teased, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled you down into a soft, lingering kiss.

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. Giving in completely, you shifted to straddle his lap, melting against him. You pulled back just enough to take his face in your hands, your thumbs gently caressing the familiar, rough texture of his beard. For a quiet moment, you just sat there, comfortably staring down at your husband and admiring how handsome he truly was. Those boyishly blue eyes looked back up at you, completely softened and radiating nothing but pure love.

"You're lucky you're cute, old man," you murmured affectionately. You placed a sweet kiss right on the tip of his nose, lightly tracing the faint freckle there.

Before he could trap you in his arms again, you pushed yourself off his lap and began to saunter back out toward the kitchen.

"Laundry. Now," you commanded, casting a sharp look over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse of him before leaving the room.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, his voice dropping an octave. His eyes were entirely glued to your hips as you walked away, a smug, captivated grin stretching across his face.