Cod Fic - Tumblr Posts

Okay so this is based on a dream I had, and I've been going feral over it ever since, so I had to get it out. This is purely self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

She/her or she/they's please don't interact, it makes me uncomfortable and you will get blocked.

Everybody gets high (why the hell can't I?)

ftm trans!reader x Soap+Ghost+König

This is pure, filthy, dirty, smut. There's no plot either, and I have no idea what kind of au this is. Read all the tags carefully.

Tags: medic!reader, no use of y/n, only pronouns used for reader are "you" and "he", AFAB reader (hole, t-dick, little cock used to describe genitalia), consensual non-con drug use, (the reader has a safe word set up but doesn't feel the need to use it.), aphrodisiacs/sex pollen use, unprotected sex (be safe people), unprotected p in v sex, double vaginal penetration, praise, degradation, slight feminization of the reader (very briefly, only the word "hen" used for them), exhibitionism, voyeurism, cumming inside multiple times, slight breeding kink (if you squint), slight cum eating, the others talk about the reader without directly addressing him with each other, stomach bulge, very very submissive/bottom reader, dominant/top SoapGhost&Konig, soft gentle aftercare

Word count: ~5k

Not edited/proofread. Sorry for any typos or mistakes

Please do not use this as a guide for actual real life sex. This isn't how any of this works irl, this is only possible because of the fictional aphrodisiac drug the reader is forced to take. Anyway, enjoy~

"Come on, m'eudail, if you're going to take Simon, you'll have to be able to take me first," Soap purrs into your ear as he's languidly thrusting two of his fingers in and out of your dripping hole.

You're whimpering and whining under him, stomach pressed into the infirmary bed as he drapes himself over you. You're entirely naked, the expanse of your skin on display for him while he's still fully clothed. The warm press of cloth against your skin has you flushed with embarrassment. You can't remember how you got to this point, nor do you care to remember as arousal simmers under your skin and in your stomach. If two of his fingers are almost too much… you're not sure how you're going to take Simon like he's trying to prepare you for.

Vaguely, you're aware of Ghost's presence in the room, even if you can't see him. It's heavy, all encompassing, and you can feel his gaze burning into your skin without even looking at him. He's been quiet the entire time, save for directing Soap occasionally.

"Go ahead, give him a third finger," Ghost says, voice unchanging as if he's not affected by this at all. But you've seen the way he looks at you, even when you're fully clothed.

Soap obeys the command, slowly slipping a third finger into you as you gasp and grip tighter onto the pillow under your chest. Unconsciously, your legs spread a bit wider, trying to accommodate the larger intrusion. Soap chuckles darkly into your ear, his breath ghosting across it, making you shiver under him and whine. He shifts down slightly and bites at your shoulder, sucking softly in between scrapes of his teeth. The pain of him putting his own mark on you, has you clenching around his fingers as he thrusts them deeper and crooks them down to press against your g-spot.

"Yer actin' like a hoore, spreadin' yer legs like this for me," Soap whispers into your ear, and you squirm, the pain from the mark he put on your shoulder throbbing dully as you shift. "What would the others think? Hmm? If they saw their pretty little medic sprawled out on a bed for us to ravage you."

"S-Soap, please," You whimper, trying not to give in to the onslaught of pleasure as Soap presses against your g-spot and nearly forces you to grind your t-dick onto the soft sheets.

"Call me Johnny, 'kay m'eudail," He nearly purrs into your ear. You're not even sure what you're begging for. You don't know if you're asking him to stop, or to give you more. But you're already feeling too close to your first orgasm of the night.

"J-Johnny pl-pleeeease," You continue, your hips jerking slightly. You can't even tell if you're trying to get away from his fingers, or to push against them more.

Ghost chuckles from where he sits in the dimly lit room. It's a dark sound. A dangerous sound. And it has fear tingling down your spine. You clench on Johnny's fingers again. "Poor slag doesn't even know what he's begging for. I think he's ready to take your cock, Johnny."

"Ya hear that? Si says you're ready, what do you think?"

"Y-Yeh- nngh, y-yes please." You moan, trailing off into a whimper as Soap slowly pulls his fingers out of you.

Soap sits back and watches with amusement as you clench around nothing, whimpering and begging to be filled again.

"You sure you weren't made to take cock, hen?" Soap asks, and hot shame rushes through you at the feminine term. But it just makes you more aroused as you continue to whine.

"Pl-Please, Johnny," You beg and you hear Ghost hum.

"Don't torture him, he's been so good for us so far," Ghost says and Johnny huffs.

"I can't have a little fun with him?" He retorts, only for you to hear him begin to unbuckle his belt and yank down his pants and underwear just enough to free his hard cock.

You glance back at him, staying in the position he put you in. You're wanting to be good for him. Be good for them both. After all, you've taken care of them on more than one occasion. Patching up knife or bullet wounds. They just want to take care of you in return. At least, that's what you remember them telling you when they caged you between them and kissed you until you were breathless.

Another whine escapes your lips when Johnny grabs his cock and strokes up to the tip where a clear bead of precum forms. You want him inside you so badly, so you wiggle your hips, making him just smirk. Thankfully, he doesn't tease you any more as he shifts closer to you again, draping himself over your smaller form, and lining his cock up to your hole.

"Ready, m'eudail?" He asks and you nod quickly, overly excited to feel the drag of him against your walls. "I need words, pretty thing."

"Y-yes please, yes, 'm ready," You rush out, warranting a chuckle from both of the men watching you at your eagerness.

You gasp as you feel Soap's tip press against your hole. He uses his other hand to pull you open just a bit further before pushing his tip into you. The stretch doesn't hurt like you thought it would. Instead, it's just pleasurable as Soap slips inside you, groaning once he's seated fully inside.

"Ffffuck," Soap groans, hand gripping your hip tightly, while the other holds him up over you. "Grippin' me so tightly, ah- hah, I'd think you've never done this before."

You have, but it's been too long… much too long since you felt someone filling you up like this. You've thought about it, fantasized about this moment when you pleasured yourself on lonely nights. But you haven't had anything inside you for too long.

Soap's grip on your hip turns bruising as he begins to pull himself back out. The drag feels so good, as you can clearly feel his skin against yours inside of you without the barrier of a condom. Once he's left just the tip inside you, he slams his hips forward. His skin slapping against yours as you cry out in time with the headboard of the bed hitting the wall. Soon after that, he picks up a brutal pace with his hips, slamming into yours. The continual thrusting against your walls has tears falling from your eyes before you know it. You futilely try to muffle your cries and moans into the pillow you're holding onto for dear life at this point. But even it can't muffle you enough. Ghost hears every sound you make from where he sits, and he just watches, until Soap's thrust slows down.

"Ah, shit, almost forgot," He mutters and pulls out of you, leaving you to whine and clench on nothing again.

You vaguely hear him digging around in one of the medicine cabinets, and a pill bottle pop open. However, before you can process it, Soap is behind you again, slipping into your used hole as he wraps his left arm around your chest and yanks you up against him. Your back arches as you moan and cry, and Soap shoves two of his fingers in your mouth. Your eyes widen when you feel a pill of some kind at the back of your throat, the smooth capsule not telling you what drug he's forcing you to take. You have to swallow around his fingers, unable to fight against his strong grip. You rest your head back against his shoulder after you've swallowed the pill and whimper.

"C'mon, take it like a man," Soap mutters into your ear as shame runs through your body again. His tight grip around your chest holds you back against him as he starts to thrust inside you again.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a thin strand of saliva connecting them to your lip, until it breaks. Some of it drips down your chest as the hand that just forced you to take a pill drifts down and circles around your tiny cock. You can't help the cry of pleasure that leaves you as Soap begins to jerk you off in time with his harsh thrusts up into you. The bite of the cold belt buckle against your outer thigh makes you shudder as you have nothing to grab onto other than Soap's arms, caging you in. Vaguely, in the fog of your mind, you remember that they set up a safe word with you, but you can't bring it in yourself to use it. It feels too good, how Soap's cock is drilling into you mercilessly. Lost in the daze, you don't hear the door to the infirmary open, and someone frozen in the doorway.

But Soap and Ghost do.

"Oh, h-hey, Konig, ngh," Soap groans, and that makes you whip your head over to the door in shock.

The giant of an Austrian man is frozen, ducking under the doorway. His eyes are wide under the mask, and you find yourself mirroring his expression until Soap tightens his grip on your t-dick. A whimper catches in your throat as your eyes screw shut and you throw your head back against Soap's shoulder again.

"You want a t-turn?" Soap eventually groans out, and you whimper at the thought.

You've gotten close to Konig over the weeks KorTac has been stationed here. And you can't deny that you're attracted to him. But you have no idea how or even if you'll be able to take his cock if both Soap and Ghost have been hyping up the size of Ghost's cock. Konig has to be bigger than that, just due to the sheer size of him.

"Either come in or leave, we don't need someone else walking in on our poor medic moaning like a slag for us," Ghost says, and that breaks Konig out of whatever trance he was in.

Konig slowly steps into the infirmary and closes the door behind him. He slides the lock shut too, and when he turns back around, you catch his eyes, and there's something dark in them now. What shock was there is gone entirely, and only replaced with something dangerous. Something lustful.

"What a predicament you're in, maus," Konig purrs as he walks over to stand next to the bed you're in. His large hand gently cards through your hair, as his eyes take over your naked form, and linger where you're being split open by Soap. "Seems like you're caught in the cat's trap."

Konig's hand slowly drifts down your body, gentle touches leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stops just above your t-dick, and Soap removes his hand to let Konig take over. His hands are rough and calloused as they gently touch your t-dick, almost hesitant, like he'll break you. When you moan softly at his touch, he gets bolder, and begins to harshly rub over you in circles, drawing louder moans and whimpers out of you as Soap begins to thrust inside you slowly again. You didn't even know he had stopped, or when. Once Konig has had enough of playing with your little cock, his hand slips lower, his index and middle finger splitting and touching on either side of Soap's cock thrusting inside you. Soap groans softly into your ear at the touch, and Konig chuckles darkly.

"He's already split so wide, do you really think he can take me?" Konig asks no one in particular, voice deeper, darker than usual. You've only heard him take on a similar tone when he's trying to intimidate a hostage. It has fear tingling down your spine again, and Soap groans as you clamp down on him.

You begin to feel hot, slowly sweating more as you feel like the pill Soap gave you is finally taking effect. You feel impossibly close to cumming, and when Konig inquisitively dips the tip of one of his fingers inside you alongside Soap's cock, you can't help the cry you let out as you see white. Soap curses as you clamp down on him impossibly tight as you cum, and feels himself get close as your walls flutter around him as you try to come down from your first of probably many highs tonight.

As you come down from your orgasm, you whimper at feeling Soap pull out of you and groan. He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes, trying to will away the urge to cum as Ghost chuckles at him.

"Close already, Sergeant?" Ghost asks as Konig is the one to catch you and help you lay down on the bed again.

As your skin gets warmer, and the arousal simmering in your body doesn't seem to wane any, you begin to realize what pill Soap gave you. He managed to find one of the experimental aphrodisiacs you were given as the resident medic. They were originally made to ease pain, but were quickly shown to not do what they were intended to. Instead, they turned the person who took them into a perfect breeding machine, for lack of a better term. Despite you feeling exhausted already, you can feel yourself leaking more than you ever have in your life, and you want nothing more than to be filled. Stuffed full with cock and cum.

"Steamin' Jesus, he grips yer cock like a vice. You try tae last wit em," Soap snaps back, and you hear Ghost stand as Soap shuffles off the bed, yanking his clothes back up when he's standing again.

With your head turned towards Konig, you see him sit down on the bed next to the one you're in. His eyes never leave your body as he seems to just be taking you in fully. You can definitely see a sizable tent in his pants. And it's safe to say you've never seen one that big before. You whine softly, and reach out to him. His eyes soften slightly as he grabs your hand gently, wrapping his fingers around it. It helps relax you, until you feel the bed dip with Ghost's weight.

"That aphrodisiac is doing a number on you, love," Ghost murmurs in your ear as he hovers over you. "You're makin' a mess all over the bed."

You whimper, clenching on nothing as more slick drips out of you. Ghost nods to Konig, and the much larger man leans closer to you, gently squeezing your hand, before his free one ghosts over your hole. You moan softly.

"Pl-Please Konig," You whine, and he doesn't hesitate any longer, unable to resist the sweet way you whine his name. He slips two of his large fingers inside you, and your hole gives way to him easily.

You moan and cry as Konig begins to fuck you with his fingers while Ghost pulls down his clothing just enough to free his cock, much like Soap did.

"Be a good slag for me, love," Ghost purrs, and the mix of praise and degradation has your head reeling. Your thoughts are beginning to get foggy from the aphrodisiac continuing to take over your entire being, slowly consuming you. Turning you into nothing but a crying, begging mess for the three men around you.

You gasp and whimper in pain when Konig pulls his fingers out and Ghost begins to replace it with his cock. The stretch stings slightly, the aphrodisiac not quite taking enough effect to make you stretchier yet. Ghost gently shushes you, holding you like you might break until he's finally seated fully inside you. He's not much longer than Soap, but he's definitely much thicker, and it feels like too much. But the aphrodisiac in your system is screaming that it's not enough.

When you glance over at Konig, you see him sucking on the fingers he just had inside you, and his pupils are blown wide. When he removes his finger he curses. "Scheiße, you should taste him. That aphrodisiac makes him taste so sweet," Konig groans, and you whine as Ghost begins to thrust inside you.

Konig smirks before pushing his two fingers into your mouth and you can't help the loud moan that is muffled around them. You really do taste sweet, almost like ripe peaches, or a peach jelly.

"Have'ta taste him later," Ghost groans from over you. "Feck, you were right, Johnny. He's so tight."

Ghost's thrusts are slow at first, testing you. However, when he sees and hears how much pleasure you're in, he begins to speed up his thrusts inside you. Grunting and groaning each time his hips hit your ass. However, as the aphrodisiac grabs tighter onto your consciousness, even Ghost's cock isn't enough.

"Pl-please, n-ngh, m-more ah! W-want m-more. Pl-please, Johnny~ K-Konig~" You begin to beg, and Soap just chuckles.

"Do ya even know what yer beggin' fer?" Soap asks, heavy boot steps walking over to you, until he's standing in front of Konig. "Do ya want both of our cocks? Hmm?"

You nod frantically, whimpering before you speak again. "Y-yes, yesyesyes, pleeeaaaaassse."

"Verfickt," Konig mumbles to himself at your begging. He's trying so hard to not touch himself, but he can't help but press his palm against his clothed erection. Trying to ease a little bit of the pressure that was beginning to get painful.

"Pick 'em up Si," Soap says and Ghost hums before wrapping his arms around you, and turning you both.

Ghost ends up laying on his back, with you on top of him, and he looks at Soap expectantly. "Think this'll be easier," He says and Soap nods.

Soap just yanks his clothes back down again, quickly climbing onto the bed and settling himself between your spread legs. Simon has one strong arm wrapped around your chest, while the other grabs at your thigh. It forces you to keep your legs spread as Soap teases at your already stretched hole with his fingers.

"Sure he can even take it?" Soap asks and Ghost hums.

"Try your fingers first. The aphrodisiac should make him open up easier, and without pain," Ghost says and Soap nods.

He slips one finger inside you easily alongside Ghost's cock. It causes you to moan as Ghost groans in your ear. Your thighs twitch, trying to close. Idly, you think you'd never be able to take this much if you weren't under the influence. Soap slips in a second finger alongside the first just as easily, and he hums. It seems that's all the proof he needed.

He pulls his fingers out again, sucking on one with a moan before offering the second to Ghost. Ghost also groans at the taste, panting when Soap pulls his finger away. He groans against your shoulder.

"Fuck you taste so good," he mumbles before biting your shoulder, the opposite side of where Soap put his mark on you.

He quickly puts a dark mark on your skin as Soap grabs his cock and lines up with your already stretched hole. You can't help but moan and cry as Soap begins to slip inside. Your walls stretch and give way easily, the extra lubricant you're producing easing the slide of Soap's cock inside you. Now it feels like too much as you begin to squirm, trying to wiggle away from the pleasure just from the stretch. Neither have even started moving yet, and you're already crying.

When Soap finally slots his cock all the way inside you, you cry out as you cum again, clamping down on both of them. It punches a deep groan out from both Soap and Ghost as you squeeze them again. Each time, it feels impossibly tight despite the easy give of your gummy walls. You reach out blindly to try and ground yourself on something, anything. Konig grabs your hand again, and gently squeezes as you come down from the high. Your other hand grabs at Soap's shoulder, digging your blunt nails into his skin as he slowly begins to thrust into you.

"T-too muuuch," You cry out and Ghost just chuckles at you. It sounds mean.

"You were begging for this, little thing. You better take it," Ghost growls into your ear before he begins to thrust up into you too.

Soon, Soap and Ghost fall into an easy rhythm with their thrusts. As one pulls out, the other pushes in, never leaving you empty. You're crying again quickly, unable to handle the intense pleasure of both of them dragging against your slick walls. Oversensitive, but arousal never waning, you cum again, and again as Ghost and Soap fuck into you. Soap is the first time begin groaning louder, his thrusts losing their consistency as he gets close.

"F-Feck, g-gonna fill ya up, m'eudail," He groans, and only takes a few more thrusts for him to slam as deep into you as he can with a low groan. He cums deep inside you, coating your walls and Ghost's cock. It's enough that it spills out of you, dripping down onto Ghost who chuckles again in that same mean way.

"Couldn't even last, Johnny. Look at you, you made a mess," Ghost says and you whimper, twitching and shaking as he holds you against his chest. Soap just smiles and chuckles, breathless.

"I fucked 'em longer than ya," Soap snaps back, cursing as he slowly pulls his oversensitive cock out of you.

You whine at the loss, but with a few clenches, you're soon tight around Ghost again, and he groans. It caught him off guard how quickly you readjusted to his size again. Especially since you went from something much larger, to much smaller.

"B-bloody 'ell," Ghost groans against your skin, and he can't help the stuttering, aborted thrusts up inside you.

Konig chuckles this time, taking Soap's place on the bed as he steps back and collapses in the chair Ghost started in.

"Seems like you're close too, Lieutenant," Konig teases, looking past you to meet the other masked man's eyes.

"Sh-shut it, KorTac," Ghost snaps back, beginning to thrust into you in earnest again. His thrusts are rough, harsh, and almost desperate as he chases his high inside your sloppy, wet hole.

Soon enough, Ghost shoves his cock as deep as he can inside you and cums with a deep groan against your heated skin. You cum with him, vision whiting out again as you twitch and convulse. He cums as much as Soap did, until it leaks out of you and back onto him. It seems the aphrodisiac had an effect on them too, causing them to cum much more than usual. It's too much, and the aphrodisiac seems to be waning slightly, but you still want more. You still want Konig.

When Ghost pulls out, he slowly slips out from under you, grumbling at the mess in his lap as Soap laughs at him. But you can't focus on that with how Konig is hovering over you now. He slowly lifts his mask and leans down to kiss you. You moan against his lips, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. You feel weak, and your legs are trembling terribly. But with how gently Konig kisses you, like you're something precious he gets to have, it only serves to make you want him more. You whine as you clench around nothing, pushing more of the cum inside you out onto the bed. You're a complete mess, and your hole is red and puffy from the abuse. Yet you still beg Konig when he pulls away from the kiss.

"Pl-please Konig," You whine, out of breath and voice scratchy from overuse. "W-want you to f-fuck me."

"Okay, okay, I will, maus," He says softly, smiling down at you through the mask.

He works off his clothes enough to free his huge cock, and you twitch, whining from oversensitivity when it lays heavy and hot on your t-dick. He grabs his cock and slowly pulls back, teasing the tip against your hole. You moan softly, fatigue seeping into your bones.

"That's it," Konig soothes gently as he begins to slowly push inside of you. You gasp, feeling like the air is punched out of your lungs at just the sheer size of him. "Such a good boy. You're taking me so well, maus."

Your blunt nails dig into Konig's clothed shoulders as he continues to push himself inside of you. With each added inch, you know you'd never be able to take him like this fully without the influence of the aphrodisiac. But you don't find yourself minding that. If you have to take it again to do this again, you would. When he's finally, finally, sheathed inside you fully, he nearly collapses on top of you, moaning into your ear. It feels like he's in your stomach, no, in your chest with how impossibly deep he is.

"Sch-Scheiße, m-maus," He groans into your ear. "N-never been able t-to be fully inside l-like this. F-feels so good."

He can't help it when he adjusts to hold himself up with one arm, the other hand resting against your stomach. He feels how his cock bulges your stomach slightly. He nearly chokes on a moan as he begins to move, and feels the bulge of his cock move up and down your stomach with it. He can't believe this, but he's so glad for the aphrodisiac, since that's the reason he can do this. Soon enough, he can't hold back, and he begins to pound into you.

You hold onto him for dear life as the bed creaks and groans its protest under both of you. The headboard keeps hitting the wall. But none of you can find it in you to care right now, even if Price will have your ass in the morning. Konig is holding onto you in a similar way as he fucks into you with wreckless abandon. He's so lost in you, you, you that he can't think of anything else other than the way you clamp down on him when you cum, and how he finally gets to feel what it's like to be fully inside someone. Because he denied himself earlier, he gets close too fast for his taste, but he doesn't want to stop.

He cums inside you with a moan of your name into your ear. You feel his cum filling you up for the final time, the heat of it making you feel pleasantly warm as you finally relax your tense muscles and collapse against the bed.

You whimper half heartedly when Konig slowly pulls out of you. He whines with oversensitivity, but watches in awe as you clench on nothing, pushing his cum out to mix with the other twos on the bed. You feel boneless, unable to move even an inch as you pant, trying desperately to catch your breath. As the aphrodisiac wanes, a soreness settles into your muscles and your core that has you whimpering in pain. You don't know who cleans you up, but it was probably all three of them with gentle hands as they do their best to help you relax and come down from everything.

"Havta use bathroom," You slur, and one of them picks you up, easily carrying you to the bathroom in the infirmary and setting you down to do your business. Whoever carried you stands next to you as you lean against them for support. With how large they are against you, it's probably Konig, but it could be Ghost as well.

You're so tired, and you're already asleep by the time you're tucked into a clean bed with clean clothes on. The three look over you for the night, getting you anything you ask of them when you wake up. They're so attentive and doting, it makes you cry. And they take turns holding you in order to comfort you. You've never felt this loved before.

The next morning, when you can barely even walk without grimacing, you hear Price yelling at the three of them in his office when you're trying to make it to the kitchen for tea. You can't help but giggle to yourself, knowing that they'd do it again in a heartbeat. As would you.

WANTED: Ghost x Reader x König [HEAVY SMUT]

Warnings: Consensual Non-Con, Threesome, Double Penetration, Stomach Bulging, AFAB Reader [AMAB Fic in Production], Forced Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Corruption Kink, Virginity Kink, Roleplay, Size Kink, Sir Kink, Daddy Kink, Humiliation Kink, Lactation Kink, Breastfeeding Kink, Forced Petplay, Dumbification, Sadism, Bondage, Unprotected Sex, Possessive Sex, Cum Play, Creampie, Breath Play, Knife Play, Cutting, Blood, Wax Play, Masks Stay On, Beating/Spanking W/ a belt, Struggling, Resistance, Man Handling of Reader, Voyeurism, Oral (Male Receiving), Overstimulation, Forced Orgasms, Marking, Nipple Play, Attempted Forced Female Masturbation, Burning W/ a Lighter, Fingering, Male Masturbation, Forced Oral (Giving), Anal, Plugging, Plugs, Threats of Physical Violence, Degradation, Blackmail, Explicit Smut, Smut, Profanity, Pussy Slapping, Angry Fucking, Biting, Kidnapping. [EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL AND PRE-AGREED TO BEFORE THE FIC STARTS].

Wordcount: 14,695

They’d plucked you from your home and forced you into another, one which you hadn’t seen, even after they tore the sack from your head.

A camera sat on the dresser, its red eye blinking, gleaming, recording the silence. A candle resided next to it, rouge and unused. The room held a sickly disposition, lit by a single lamp on the bedside.The door, wooden, burst open, almost splintering and swinging off its hinges. The camera paid attention, finally having something to record.

König ignored your kicking and screaming as he threw you onto the bed, Ghost shadowing him, locking the door and throwing the key atop the dresser. You scrambled to the furthest corner, breathing heavily, eyes blown wide. Both men stood before you now, their manhoods throbbing and tearing against the fabric of their pants, tenting them. “You’ve left us no choice, girl.” Ghost said, voice heavy and raspy with what one could only describe as carnal lust. The masks they wore made it impossible to tell what they were thinking, but given how they’d handled you thus far, you could practically taste it. “No, please–” you whimpered, pressing yourself further into the corner, crossing your legs and trying to conceal the coveted prize which König and Ghost so desired above all else. But they weren’t having any of it. Ghost began sliding his belt from his trousers, the sound of leather against denim sibilant in your ear, all the while making his way round to the other side of the bed. His eyes glinted in the dim light, revealing no humanity within. Gone. Eradicated. Though that suggested he had any to begin with. You had nowhere to run. He was slow. Intentional. When he’d unsheathed his belt, he folded it in half and clapped the two sides of leather together, sending a crack of thunder resonating within the room. It made your insides ache and your flower throb, creating a continental patch of wetness on your underwear. Ghost smirked beneath his mask. König watched, guarding the door, palming himself through his trousers. “If you didn’t want this, you should’ve thought about that before talking to strangers.” His voice sent shivers down your spine. All the while, König undid his belt and slid it from his pants, his nigh-concealed gaze making his intentions all too apparent to you.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you about that?” came König’s voice. He watched you, eyes never leaving you. “Or…perhaps we are the ones to teach you–” the belt swayed in his grip, “--to discipline you.” You could feel the shiver run down his spine as he spoke. You wanted to be sick. “I thought you needed hel–ah!” König grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him, wrenching a gasp from your lungs and leaving you drawn and exposed. Ghost wasted nothing of the opportunity and slid his belt around your wrists, pulling it tight so you couldn’t break free. You yelped, thrashing, trying to release yourself from the two mens’ grip, but to no avail. König practically pounced on you, making sure you were squarely beneath him, slapping a hand over your mouth.

His weight was nearly too much for you to withstand, twice that of a normal man’s and sodden with years of murderous intent. He had you pinned without, at his mercy.

“Should’ve gagged her,” he said, vaguely casting Ghost a glance. Most of his attention was on you, the fear in your eyes as tears gathered there. The rest of it was on the evening’s events, all of which entailed some horrible thing done to you and you alone.

He rocked his hips against your cowering frame, icy stare dimming only when his eyes shut, the diluted pleasure he felt now nothing compared to that which he would feel at the expense of your suffering.

“Wouldn’t be able to hear her pretty little cries then, would we?” Ghost said, casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. König let out a scoff, or perhaps a laugh.

“Yes,” he relented, running a finger down the side of your face, streaking your tears across your skin. “You’re right.” His eyes traversed the contours of your face, stopping at your eyes. Looking into them, drinking the emotions that resided within them, he read you like the open book you’d become. You, on the other hand, saw nothing in his; void, save for the half-lidded, manic mist which descended upon his very form.

His touch trailed down your cheek, your throat, then stopped at the collar of your shirt. Only then did he look away from your face. “Need to get these off before we start.” The way König spoke felt institutional - like this was a practice rather than an attack. Ghost made a waving, dismissive gesture, reaching below the bed for something. You wondered how they’d do it, with scissors, or their bare hands–

From beneath his shirt, concealed, König withdrew a knife; thick, military and real. You gasped, tears clinging to your periphery as you did to any hope of surviving this ordeal. König’s head tilted, Ghost still rifled for something beneath you.

“Shh, sweet girl, shh - it’s okay!” König’s eyes crinkled, becoming half moons, eclipsing the malice that radiated from him, smoke. His breathing grew heavier, the bulge in his pants became ever more apparent to you the longer he spent atop you. You felt his hips rock, carefully, once. He poised the tip of the knife to your collar, and dragged it, slowly, down the expanse of your abdomen. You tried not to breathe - tried to prevent any unwanted movement that would give him reason enough to gut you right now.

It was sharp, and you knew it was only via König’s sheer resistance and will that it didn’t penetrate your clothing and leave a long slice down your front. Though the phantom pain followed, the layer of an alternate universe - an alternate you - passing over your own; one where you were not so fortunate, where your screams were heard infinities across.

König‘s eyes trailed the blade. His breath shuttered as the tip came to the waistband of your pants. He rutted again, stifling a groan. Ghost rose, his shadow resting over you, a shroud. He watched, holding something that was just out of your line of vision by his side.

The sound of cloth tearing brought your attention back to König, and it took everything in you not to jump, not to forfeit yourself to the blade. You swallowed thickly, throat drying, adrenaline and scorching ice coursing through you. You tilted your head back, narrowly avoiding the tip of Konig’s knife as it ascended the length of your shirt, exposing your middle to your captors. König’s eyes remained on your skin. He brought a hand to the thin trail exposed to him, felt the length of it, making you shiver. Then tore it from you.

The material was thrown to the dark recesses of the room, left to be feasted upon by the shadows that resided within.

Your pants were the next article to be destroyed, spared of the wrath of the knife, yet resigned to an ever more brutal fate. König ripped them apart, catching your panties in the crossfire, leaving you in only your bra. Even he seemed as shocked as you, leaning back to take in what he and Ghost had gone through so much effort for. Ghost leaned over you, drinking in your body.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy tonight,” König said, his gaze flitting up to meet Ghost’s. He slid the knife up the bridge of your bra and freed it from you. Tore it from you.

“You’d be hard pressed not to.” At that, Ghost raised his hand, revealing what he’d been sorting through the underbed for.

A lighter.

He flipped the top open and rolled his thumb against the flint wheel, coaxing it to life. The flame erupted, dancing.

Your heart was in your mouth, your mind convulsed, your body wanted to follow. You needed to get out. Now. With a pillar of a man at either end of you and your hands bound, you scanned the room. The only entrance and exit was the (now locked) door, the key to which slept on the dresser; between which two mammoths of men - of soldiers - stood.

Yet, you saw a chance.

Taking advantage of the added weight of your hands being bound, you slammed your clasped fists down on König’s chest, taking him off-guard and making him stumble, fall back. You bucked your hips up, forcing him off you. He grunted, a noise of surprise. And you scrambled. Ran.

The phantom of Ghost’s fingers almost tangling in your hair bristled against you, his thick accent prevalent in the guttural “Grab her!” as he commanded König.

You tore the key from the dresser, fumbled it into the lock. All the while, Ghost’s rapidly advancing footsteps grew closer, as did König’s, the sound of boulders against concrete in your ears. You flinched, tensing, as you felt Ghost’s shadow cover you, his red hot anger radiating from him like steam. You turned the key, a lick away from salvation. But your efforts were all in vain. Instead of grabbing you by your hair or your arm, you felt something that made your blood run cold. A cool, snakeskin-like material slid around your throat and yanked you back. Hard.

Your hands flew to your throat, feeling a belt pressed tightly against it. You grappled, choking for air as Ghost forced you flush against his chest, his heart pounding against your back as yours did against your ribs. The sound of your stifled breath filled the room.

Ghost pulled you back, further into the room and deeper into your demise.

“You little whore,” he seethed. His eyes scorched marks into your skull. You scarcely heard him over your own struggle for survival, but his voice - his words - were unmistakable. “I have the good sense to break your fuckin’ neck right here, right now.” He pulled the belt tighter around your throat, his knuckles turning white, veins bulging in his arms and hands. He did not surrender, even as you clawed at his hands, scuffed the belt with your nails, the sound of you choking on leather a broken record. Tears sprang to your eyes; your vision was starting to darken, tendrils in your periphery. You swore you could feel your body wilting - dying - where you stood.

Yet, in all his infinite mercies, Ghost dropped the belt and threw you onto the bed, relinquishing your throat of König’s deadly wardrobe. You fell back, swallowing air as if it were your last breath, König nearby having watched the whole scene, eyes wide. Frantic.

You were granted little reprieve, however. The crack of leather against your skin, the burn, shocked you from your near-death haze, making you bolt upright and gasp.

Your eyes were wide as they fell upon Ghost’s hulking figure, shoulders heaving with every breath he took, the belt wrapped around his tattooed arm like a snake would a villain, the end practically smoking with the force with which it bit you. You watched each other, a stand-off. Though, Ghost wouldn’t call it that; a stand-off suggested that you at least had a way to defend yourself.

“Hold her down. Don’t let her get away.” Ghost addressed König, who, like lightning, struck, taking your belted wrists in his hands and hoisting you up, pulling you so far against himself that you thought your arms would tear. You writhed, trying to escape König’s grip, but his strength and Ghost’s stare discouraged you, subdued your efforts with the promise of punishment. Ghost reared up then snapped the belt against your thigh, a clap of flesh thunder filling the room. You cried out, tried to bring your knees into your chest to protect yourself, but Ghost was having none of it. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, striking you with the belt once he had you splayed out before him. And he kept hitting you. Over and over again, long past the point of tears soaking your face, your screams making your throat rasp, and your legs, stomach and cunt raw red with sensitivity and injury. Agony. Everything hurt, stinging and pulsing and throbbing - anguish in its most visceral form. And Ghost stood over you, chest and shoulders heaving, a mirror, the same man he’d been before.

“I wouldn’t’ve had to do this if you’d just behaved,” he said, slamming the belt against your cunt like a drum. Again. And again. An infinity, it seemed; this spiral cycle of discipline. The curve of the belt was soaked in sweat, blood staining the edge of it, dried - the only indication of any time having passed. You wailed beneath him, voice cracking as you begged him to cease - pleaded with him to spare you. König gave little comfort as he only watched, forcing you into stillness when you thrashed and jolted, no doubt smiling beneath the veil. Your voice hitched like an old radio channel as you asked - groveled - for him to stop, please, I can’t take any more - I-I’m sorry!

Ghost refused to relent. “You brought this on yourself, you little bitch.” His words rang low with absolution. Conviction. He lashed the belt across your thigh once more, then stepped - staggered - back, seemingly exhausted by his own vigour. Cold air felt like ice against your skin, and in that moment of salvation, you dared to hope that perhaps this phase of the punishment was over.

“Flip her over.” Ghost shattered your dreams without so much as a second look. Your gaze darted to his face, trying to find a hint of jest or leniency there. There were neither.

König released you, grabbed and forced you onto your front, then took your wrists hostage again. Ghost gave no time for you to adjust to the bedsheets running coarse against your raw skin, your thighs rubbing the skin of your raw pussy - before skinning you with the belt again. He went for where it’d hurt most for the next week or so; the backs of your thighs and cheeks.

“Be grateful I’m not making you count ‘em,” Ghost said. “Or we’d be here all night.” He placed the edge of the belt against your shoulder, making you flinch, and dragged it to the small of your back. “And trust me, I can do this all night.” You wept into the covers, fresh anguish flushing your body whenever Ghost’s belt tore against your body, turning it as red as the blood that ran beneath it, perhaps atop it if the liquid you felt staining your skin wasn’t sweat. Neither Ghost nor König gave any indication, either, save for König sucking a hissing breath between his teeth as he looked upon the sunset hued bruises of your backside, to transition from the palette of dusk to night within the day.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but judging by how your ass and thighs had gone numb, you hazarded a guess of around five, ten minutes. Maybe even less given how harsh - heavy-handed - Ghost had been. Yet it felt longer. Much, much longer. And it likely would have gone on for that long, too, if König’s voice hadn’t cut through the whistling of the belt, the clapping of your skin. The distress of your cries.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he stated. Ghost ceased, his actions becoming a mystery to you. He sighed. A moment’s consideration passed. The sound of the belt being placed on something followed.

“Alright,” he said, tone tinged with a dulled sharpness that had you pricking your ears to listen for the agitation that lay within. König released you, and you’d have thanked him, kissed him silly, had it not been for the sound of him undoing his pants. His belt lay discarded nearby, the tool of your torture, far enough to be just within reach for either him or Ghost but not out of mind for you. The sound of his zipper coming undone made your stomach clench, tighten. With a shallow sigh, König freed himself of his restraints and held his length in his large, willing hand. You got to your knees, wincing as your heels dug into your cheeks and sent splintering pain through them, taking in the dim light of the room again. Your eyes stung. Your gaze drifted to König. Your heart stopped.

He was huge - long and thick and painful, veins bulging along his shaft, leading to his throbbing, leaking, bulbous tip. You could just already tell he was going to struggle fitting it all in. The image of him growing impatient and slamming into you flashed in your mind. Your heart stuttered, a simultaneously tepid and baltic feeling washed through you. Horror, amplified by the sound of Ghost’s zipper descending behind you. “Mmh, can’t wait to see you try and take me,” König said, voice thick and dark. Cruel. “M’gonna make you bleed from the inside, maus.” He gave a quick laugh. Dry. Your eyes found Ghost’s, pleading and wide. But he showed just as little mercy, even after he’d taught you his lesson, loosened himself from the shackles of his rage. “Save some of her energy for me,” he said, slipping his pants down his thighs. His cock bulged, strained against his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the front. “Don’t want her passin’ out on me.”

“Oh, don’t you?” König said. The men shared a laugh. You wanted to cry. To die.

Ghost ducked and reached beneath the bed, and your breath hitched. He already had the lighter…so what else was he retrieving?

König pumped himself once. Twice. He gave a groan. Without warning, he grasped you by your hair with one hand and pulled you back, almost tearing it from your head. You gave a shriek. König slapped you.

“Stupid fucking girl,” he growled. He slammed his hand against your cunt, roughly trawling his fingers across it, finding your entrance. You gasped, his fingers knives against your sensitive clit. “Make any noise like that again and I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your stomach dropped, your heart ached. You nodded.

“Okay, I’m sorry–” you whispered, voice merely air and nothing more. König grasped your face, held it tightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

You trembled, vision blurred by your tears. Ghost’s silhouette was still visible to you, a shadow on the corner of your vision.

“I’m sorry, Sir,”

König smirked beneath his veil. “Good girl. Finally learning her place.”

Though you hated to admit it, König’s praise gave you shallow hope that he’d be more lenient with you, in spite of all he’d said. And that was your first mistake.

König pulled your back to his chest, and his achingly long, thick fingers found your hole. With neither warning, nor ceremony, he plunged them into you - two. And you let out a silent scream. It felt like he was prodding you with medical instruments, reaching deep inside and feeling you. On the edges of your vision, Ghost re-emerged, holding something behind his back, though less out of secrecy and more of laxity. He slid his underwear down to his thighs, revealing his aching, angry, red tip. He pumped himself, groaning when you began to cry.

“Oh, shh, sweet girl,” came König, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. His fingers spasmed inside you. “You only get to cry when I say so.”

And he kept going. He slid his fingers in and out, picking up speed the wetter you became, hitting a deep, dark part of you that, much to your horror, made you feel good. His thumb pressed into your clit, forcing the beginnings of euphoria through you.

“God, so small. I’m starting to wonder how we’re going to fit inside you–” he bit his lip as fear sparked in your widened eyes, just visible to him as your head began to lol against his shoulder. ”--without tearing you.”

The image he invoked made you sick, made you want to scream and cry until you coughed up your lungs, or someone found you. Yet you resisted, for you knew which of the two possibilities was far likelier to occur than the other; and it was not the one you wanted. “So weak,” König taunted. “So pathetic.”

“So fuckin’ tiny,” Ghost chimed in, a smirk evident in his tone. “Bet she couldn’t fend off a feather.” He stroked himself, pumping harder than before as he coated his cock in his pre-cum. Your blood boiled, but you said nothing. Fear overpowered your need to correct them.

“Well, she can’t fend us off.” König pressed into you, forcing a third finger inside you, reminding you of who - what - you were dealing with. Your eyes squeezed shut, a pained moan rippling through you. Even as he grew closer to your sweet spot, the weight and length of his fingers were difficult to take, especially considering how little either of them had done to prepare you. Perhaps this was how they were warming you up. The thought made you shiver; the implication that what you’d already suffered was not the end. König’s free hand trawled your waist, dipping into its curvature and creeping up your ribs. His fingers were soft, yet a weighted intention lay upon them, lead on skin. That much could be felt in the way his hand, now flat against your chest, slithered around your breast, cupping it. All the while, König’s occupied hand continued to break into you, forcing your lips further and further apart the deeper his fingers descended, the more he added. Ghost’s breathing grew shorter the longer he watched, his movements growing faster, his dick slick with his own arousal. It glistened in the dim light of the room, glinting at you, reminding you that it was there. That he still had his turn. König encompassed your breast with his claws, kneading it, plucking at your hardened nipple. You swallowed the gasps and whines that crawled up your throat, waiting for the right moment to pounce - to make your forced arousal known. But König seemed to know regardless, his voice hot in your ear.

“You’re soaking me, Darling,” he rasped. His hips bucked into the back of you, restrained. For the moment. His breath caught in his throat as electricity shot through him, his tip catching on the small of your back, leaving a thin trail of pre between his tip and your skin, his thighs squeezing your sides and keeping you caged. He was more machine than man; a hydraulic press.

“König–” Ghost’s voice, breathy, surrounded by the squelching of his juices against his hand, was a welcomed distraction from the vague euphoria building in your core. “I’m close.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering what on earth Ghost could be thinking of doing with his load. You prayed that he wasn’t going to put it in you.

König’s hand slid up from your breast up to your jaw, holding it in place before bumping you up onto your knees with his hips, forcing you forward. You winced at the impact. His cock caught between your cheeks, and he restrained himself still. Ghost approached the bedside, pumping furiously. Even with König’s fingers inside you, the sound of slick demanded your attention.

With his free hand, Ghost presented the prize he’d concealed from you. A collar and leash. You swallowed, trying to back up into König, but he held you firmly in place, his hips a deterrent, the threat of impalement.

“Don’t move.” Releasing his cock, Ghost fastened the collar around your neck, making sure it was snug and tight. He wrapped the chain round his forearm as he had done the belt. His hand returned to his member, resuming the raging pace he’d taken to earlier.

His breaths almost seemed to sync with yours; König still fucking you with his fingers, four strong and knuckle-deep, massaging your clit with his thumb, he left you breathless, left you trying to conceal the effects of his devastation upon your body.

Ghost did little to help; when he saw your eyes close or your body begin to slump, he pulled on the chain, bringing you closer to him, closer to consciousness.

His pants transitioned from light gasps to low groans. You knew he didn’t have long. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb. When you didn’t oblige, his stare hardened.

“Open.”

He didn’t have to ask twice before you parted your lips, allowing him into you. He fed his cock into your waiting mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue; a salty residue tingled on your taste buds. With his hand on the chain, he pulled, forced you down on his member, grip tightening when you initially resisted.

“Don’t test me, girl,” he glowered, eyes dark and intentions darker. “Bite me, and I promise you that you’ll never be able to use this mouth again.” He took your jaw in his chained hand and squeezed. You nodded. 

“Good girl.”

Swallowing around him, making him rock ever closer to you, you closed your eyes and took the plunge. He allowed you to set your own pace at the very least, making your descent upon him easier. Well, ‘descent’ being a lenient use of the term; you just bobbed on the tip, and while Ghost didn’t complain, he didn’t praise you, either.

“What, you shy or somethin’?” he said, brow creasing. You looked up at him, hoped that your anger could be felt - or couldn’t. Pleasure made your gaze indeterminate. The knot in his brow dissipated, and a look of revelation crossed his features. “Hold on,” he said, slow and intentional. “Are you new to this?” König stilled behind you, fingers ceasing to coax your cunt into weeping. You could feel him watching intently from behind.

With little to lose and your head hazy with fright, you nodded.

Both men were quiet. Ghost leaned around you, glancing at König. They spoke in their invisible language, unknown to anyone but them, unteachable but learnable.

Ghost’s gaze returned back to you, and he relinquished some of the pressure he was enforcing on the leash. “Oh, Love,” he began, voice softer than it had ever been, eyes half-lidded with what one could construe as concern. “Why didn’t you tell us before?” The question sounded interrogative enough that you felt compelled to answer, but given your position, you didn’t know what to say or how - or that you could, for that matter. You just stared with those same wide, pleading eyes.

Any concern Ghost’s face may have possessed evaporated before your eyes, and before you could even register the change, his grip returned and he slammed you down on his cock. You gagged, cried, eyes stinging with tears and your throat panging with Ghost’s brute force. He refused to relent, even as you began to cry, the pain easily making your situation that much more unbearable. He peeled you off his cock before piling into you again, and again, and again. Soon, he’d established the rhythm of a symphony you didn’t want to hear, the sound of his pre wet against your lips.

König groaned behind you, his fingers gripping your cheeks.

“Fuck – I can feel you taking him,” he said, breathy. He began pumping into you again, his hand remaining iron around your jaw, giving you no choice but to to keep taking Ghost. The dying heat in your centre re-ignited, much to your despair. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fiery ache in your throat, but König just hit a spot in you that made your body want more, despite your mind’s resistance to the fog trying to settle over it. Ghost gave a sharp groan, panting, his thrusts becoming less coordinated, more frantic as his release came into sight. Your heart thudded in your chest, echoing as if it were contained in a steel chamber, adrenaline replacing your blood. The thought of biting him came into your mind, but the consequences that seemed to be your birthright overshadowed it, frightened it away.

You were struggling, twitching as you fought the urge to pull away, knowing either König or Ghost would shove you right back onto Ghost’s cock. Ghost held little regard for your struggling, instead making sure to keep slamming his tip against the back of your throat as if there was a prize for doing so, for bruising your voice and making it nigh-unusable. You were certain you could see him snarling beneath the mask as he forced you to take all of him, your nose pressed against the short, dark, curling hairs above his weapon.

Ghost pulled out, taking you by surprise, leaving you whining. He may have thought that you wanted more, but he didn’t act on it if he did. With a few more breathy, panting, groaning strokes, he came on your face, coating you. You gasped, tried backing up, but König held you in place, unrelenting as he continued to pound the shape of his hand into you. You heaved deep breaths, trying to regain the air König had knocked out of you and Ghost had stolen from you.

Your chest heaved, matching the exasperation of Ghost’s shoulders. König’s pumping fingers slowed, then came to a halt. The heat in your stomach died once more. You could feel how wet your backside was, cold as air hit it. Ghost’s cum dripped down your chin, into your open mouth and onto your chest. And Ghost watched, a feral gleam in his eye as white, milk tears gleamed upon your skin like pearls.

König seemed to care little for the haze Ghost had placed you in, inspecting Ghost’s cum as it dripped across his hand like a prostitute’s mascara, before trying to wipe it off. He dragged his palm across your cheek, gathering Ghost’s load and pressing it to your lips.

“Lick.” Was all he said. And you obliged, oversaturating your mouth with Ghost for the second time that night. And you looked up into Ghost’s eyes as you did this. They were hard, like he disagreed, yet he said nothing.

This was your chance, you were sure of it: get Ghost on-side by showing your loyalty to him - make him think you were on his team.

König’s hand came up to your mouth, wiping pearls from your lip. You let your tongue slip out. “My, my,” Konig said. “Eager, are we?” When he pressed his fingers into your mouth, you acted.

Your second mistake of the evening.

You bit down. A pitbull in force. Straddled his fingers with your teeth.

König yelled, his fingers dislodging from inside you. Everything happened in a flurry of moments; an avalanche of seconds colliding upon you as one rather than consecutive moments. “You fucking bitch!” König’s voice sounded as if it were underwater as he cursed at you. Less than a moment later, his hand found your face, smacking it, leaving a streak of your juices slashed across your cheek like blood. You were on your front before you could even make a noise, and a pair of hands forced your head into the bedsheets, suffocating you, disorienting you. You could feel how tangled your hair was, how matted with sweat and cum it had become.

Ghost’s hand tangled in your hair, tore you up from the sheets. He was not pleased. His eyes told you so.

König was somewhere behind you, though exactly where was unknown to you, which somehow made you feel worse than knowing he was there at all. Your heart pounded in your ears, blood pumping through you, a red ocean within your crust. You couldn’t hear much outside of your atmosphere. The bed remained dipped behind you. König remained behind you.

Your breath caught in your throat when a hand, thrice the size of your own, came down upon your head, pulling you back by your tresses. It wasn’t Ghost’s, for he abandoned you when his successor took charge. You thought your Eve’s apple would tear through your throat as your skin was stretched so finely. König’s eyes sent ice through you, yet you couldn’t even see them.

“You arrogant wench–” he said, voice close to your ear, hot and sibilant “--I’m going to make sure this really, really hurts.”

Once again, you were slammed onto your front, König’s hands dislodging from your scalp and relinquishing you to gravity. You began preparing yourself to fight back, preparing to take a life if they planned on taking yours. That was before something cool and thick pressed against your throat. And in an instant, everything changed.

You couldn’t swallow - couldn’t even think - as this object bore into you. Someone grabbed your hair from behind, yanking you up. That same person held the object, which, by the handle in your periphery, you saw was a knife. König’s knife.

“Going to have to domesticate this little bitch, show her who she belongs to.” König’s voice dripped, venomous. You fisted the sheets, tried to keep your tears a secret even to yourself, hoping you could channel some of the mortification brewing in you into the sheets.

“Now, König, don’t be too hasty.” Ghost said. “Don’t wanna be fucking a corpse now, do you?” Ghost was less the voice of reason here than of self-interest; he didn’t want to fuck your corpse. But König’s lack of input, his silent neutrality, made you think that he did. Or would. Oh god, what have I done–

König ground his stiff member against your raw flower, grunting when he caught himself on your hole. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your pained mewls from leaking out. You knew you had no right to - you knew they wouldn’t listen. Yet it came out anyway; a request, nothing more. Meek as the woman it tumbled from.

“Dont, please,”

Ghost and König stilled.

“Say that again.” König said. You couldn’t tell if it was a demand or a challenge, but you complied regardless.

“Please, please don’t. I-I’ve never–” “What? What haven’t you done?” König’s voice made you tense every time you heard it, especially now as he held your life in his hands. You swallowed shallowly around the blade. You closed your eyes, squoze them tight.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Another bout of silence. Then, an arrow of laughter pierced it.

“Aww, are you a virgin, Darling?” König’s use of the petname evoked a primal despair from within you. You were surprised you hadn’t begun to shake with fear. When you didn’t answer quickly enough, König’s hand released your hair and found your cunt and slapped it. You yelped, trying not to decapitate yourself on the blade as König’sstrength propelled you forward, your lips sensitive from his prior assault.

“We’ll take good care of you,” came Ghost, who seemed less willing to adopt König’s sarcasm; perhaps only because you hadn’t wronged him the way you had König. Even then, you had no doubt he would treat you as if you had.

“Though, nobody’s ever gonna want you after tonight,” Ghost said. “We promise you that.”

“And all because you wanted to act like an animal.” König offered no respite, a thin smile in his voice.

Your heart sank ever lower as all you could do was listen and accept what they were telling you - accept your fate. You hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself that you’d really hoped they - or at the very least Ghost - would take care of you. Perhaps before, but not now. Not after you’d resisted.

“Can’t believe no one else’s ever claimed this cunt.” A twinge of surprise, perhaps even morbid curiosity, spiked König’s tone. Yet you gave him no answer, no resolve to his curiosity. You remained a statue.

“You wanna take her?” Ghost asked. The fact they spoke of you as if you weren’t even there made you feel oddly hurt. But what were they going to do, realistically? Ask your permission?

“You chose her, you take her.” Konig handed Ghost the knife.

“You sure?” Ghost said. “After what she did to you, I thought you’d–” “Fuck her while she’s still tight, Ghost.” König’s tone was rocky, monotone with rubble anger spiking it. “Because I promise you, she won’t be worth your while after I’m done with her.”

Chose her -  after I’m done with her - your stomach turned. This entire attack had been completely coincidental. It could have easily been anyone else, someone you had no idea existed. And yet the gods brought them to you.

The bed dipped as Ghost came behind you. He took your chain leash, letting it mould back against his skin as if it were an extension of his limb, and pulled it taught against your throat. On your other end, he proposed the tip of his cock to your lips, and you tensed. Your body near forced him out, refusing to take any of his length. Ghost scowled, pushed you down further into the bedsheets, keeping you still. He spread your lips with his fingers, and, within an instant, forced himself inside. You gasped, letting out a silent cry into the duvet. The knife wedged against your throat, a reminder. Ghost released a strangled groan, your cunt squeezing his tip.

“Christ,” he breathed, “so fuckin’ tight,” His grip on the handle tightened. His thighs were pressed against your own, rubbing your raw skin, making your backside erupt in agony. You only choked on a sob, begging and praying to any god that may have been listening to make it stop. 

Ghost took a breath, and you braced yourself. He pressed, pushed further inside, releasing guttural grunts as he forced another inch into you. Your resolve was cracking like glass beneath a great weight; you knew it would shatter. You knew you were shattering.

“Come on, (Y/N),” he said, your voice rolling off his tongue as he’d roll it against your cunt. “You can do it - you can take me.” His voice was breathy, yet there was sincerity there. He was giving you the opportunity for you to show some initiative before he took it from you. Giving you the illusion of choice.

For your sake, you tried to relax, tried to ignore the heavy, throbbing mass your cunt was reluctantly swallowing - more so choking on. That, and the knife tucked against your neck. You willed yourself to relax as best you could. Feeling your walls loosening, Ghost slammed the rest of his length into you. And you moaned. Loudly.

You hadn’t meant to, and it was not one of pleasure, more shock. It just came out, and it hung in the air like a curse. Or a blessing.

“Looks like our pretty little pet isn’t as resistant as she thought,” König said, a mocking, sly tone to his voice. Beneath a heavy gaze, you looked at him as best you could, without slitting your throat on the blade, trying to muster as much of a scowl as you were able. You assumed that, with Ghost behind you, he would protect you from König’s wrath until his turn was finished. Your third mistake of the evening.

König’s face shifted, and the light crinkle around his eyes dropped, leaving him almost expressionless, though you could only feel this change, not see it.

“You think you can mock me, girl?” He said. He glowered over you, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, throat rough and dry from your crying, and your fatigue slowing your cognition. That, and your complete unwillingness to give König the satisfaction of your distress. König said nothing as he took your silent answer. Instead, he neared your compromised form, bent at the waist, completely exposed. You felt the bed dip, closer now.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say - plead. You wanted to rectify your error, to undo whatever awful plan you’d just put into motion. Not that König would care, though.

His presence seemed to materialise behind you, and you felt Ghost shuffle sideways. Then, he spread your lips.

Oh no.

Before you could scream out, apologise – do anything – König  was pressing the tip of his cock to your already stuffed hole, making you cower. A million ways to be injured by what König was planning to do shot through your head. Even just one of them would make a traumatising story to tell at the doctor’s office, never mind be excruciating.

“I was going to be lenient. To let you take us one at a time.” He huffed, euphoria shooting down his cock.”But seeing as you seem to have the intelligence of an animal, I’m going to treat you like one.” His hand came to grip your waist, unrelenting. “Let’s see how well you can mock this, Kitty.” Königs accented voice sent electricity shooting to your core. He spat on your cunt and pressed forward.

Both men were thick and long - enough so that you could just about take one of them. But now with two of them trying to skewer you, you were sure you’d sooner pass out. Your cunt throbbed, screaming for a moment of release as you failed to adjust to two of them. König grunted, breath shuttering, as he managed to wedge the tip in, making you ache, made you feel more exposed than you already were.

“What? Got n-nothing to say, Kitty?” König said. He stroked your lips with thick, rough fingers. You gave no indication of a response, being caught in your throat alongside your sobs. König let out a hum of a laugh.

He forced himself further inside, and you squeezed your eyes shut, tears streaming down your cheeks and into the duvet. Ghost groaned at the friction, pulling tighter on your leash. 

“God, so fuckin’ small–” his voice drew thinner than before, less certain. He made an attempt at comfort, at love. He ran a hand against your backside, squeezing it. König moved, the beginnings of a thrust. Ghost gave protest, though not on your behalf. “Watch out,” he said, warning. “Don’t wanna finish in her just yet.”

König gave a hum, an underdeveloped laugh. “Hm, good thinking.”

It took a lot of effort, but, after brute forcing his way inside, König was balls-deep within you in a matter of minutes, breathing heavily and ready to burst at any second. Your walls crushed him - both of them - drawing a guttural moan that sounded too human to belong to either when they rutted into you, unable to resist the morsels of euphoria your body submitted to them.You heaved laboured breaths against the bedsheets, body ready to give out at any second.

“Ready?” König said, aiming at Ghost. Ghost, presumably, nodded, and the two began to pump into you.

When one pulled out, the other plunged. That was the system. The room filled with the grotesque symphony of skin slapping against skin, of König’s rising moans, Ghost’s groans, of your body’s liquids making their assault on you easier, almost inviting them in. Something thick and viscous rolled down your thighs, and you couldn’t have known whose body it initially came from. You couldn’t admit that they way they battered your insides, hit your cervix, made pleasure rupture in your core, made you buzz and tingle in places you didn’t want to.

Their balls smacked the sensitive skin of your flower red, almost raw. Just as unrelenting as the men you belonged to.

König was notably rougher than Ghost, his cock seeming to pummel you at twice the speed, making sure to catch you where it hurt. Whenever you sobbed, he smirked and made sure to hit that same spot again. And again. And again.

With both of their instruments inside you, you knew your stomach was bulging in one form or another. And, in a bid to satiate your curiosity, or to confirm that what was happening to you was indeed real, you slid your hand up to your stomach, pressing your palm against your skin.

They were massive. They both made a noise of mock protest. Ghost grabbed your hair.

“Do that again,” he said, breath laboured and wavering in time with him bounding you on his cock. He pressed the flat edge of the weapon to your apple, tightened his grip on your strands, letting you know it wasn’t a choice.

With little room to refuse, and Ghost’s threatening grip on your hair and the knife, you obliged, pressing your palm flat against the outline in your stomach which you recognised as Ghost’s. He gave the slightest of moans and relented, letting your hair go and trailing his hand to rest on the small of your back, as if he expected to feel the silhouette of his cock there, too.

“Good girl,” he panted. “Very good girl.”

Perhaps minutes passed, perhaps an eternity. The only mark of time having passed at all was the electric rope in your core tightening, and the inevitable undoing of your captors.

“Fuck– I– I’m close,” König said, his pace quickening, hips stuttering. They grew out of sync, pounding into you two at a time, spreading your walls wider, deeper.

“Yeah, me–e too,”

The realisation of what they were planning to do settled in.

“No, stop–” Your pleas fell on deaf ears, neither of the men even poised to discipline you, too lost in their bid for release to spare you even a glance.

“König, Ghost, please–” you gasped as Ghost hit your sweet spot, eliciting a moan from you.

“I heard that female orgasms increase the chances of impregnation,” he said between breaths. You could just feel him staring down at you. König, too, no doubt smiling that sly smile of his. He existed only to torture you. “Let’s test that theory.”

You tried pulling away - a futile effort, really. König just pulled you right back, impaling you back on his dick and drawing a moan from him, a sob from you.

With the last of their resolve, they pummeled into you. And, with a choked moan, your stomach spasmed, your muscles burning, tightening. Your orgasm tore through you, a hurricane of blood, sweat and tears on the populus of your body. You wailed into the sheets, your walls trapping your attackers inside you. Both men finished, a sirenic, low moan leaving König, and a savage, territorial growl coming from Ghost. One after the other, they burst inside you, loads thick and heavy, flooding you with a warmth you didn’t want. And because you were angled so - with your backside practically vertical to your head, you could feel it running down into the deepest areas of yourself, gravity only aiding in its aim.

You gave one last attempt to break free - to stop the inevitable - but it was of no use. Ghost had you at the mercy of the leash, releasing himself inside you, spurts of his white hot cum claiming every inch of you as his own. König’s seed ran like lava, burning you up, scorching paths into you, scarring you with his actions. You had no choice but to take it, to feel your future slipping away from you as both of these men bound you with their offspring, their cum overflowing within you and oozing from your lips, rolling down your thighs. You gasped when König scooped the remnants of Ghost and himself and plunged them back inside. “Better plug her,” he said to Ghost, who you felt liberate your throat of the knife, detach, and slip out from you, leaving you cold in his absence. König still inside you, you tried to break away, to pull yourself from him, but he gripped you by the shoulders and slammed you right back down on him. And he didn’t stop. In Ghost’s departure, he crushed his hips against your backside, making sure he hit your skin where it was most sensitive. You stifled your hisses, your moaning cries. Not only did your backside and thighs hurt, but your prize, too, ebbing and drooling with their seed. König eased up only to lean down, pressed against you. He lifted his veil, placed his lips on your shoulder. 

“No better expression suits you more than pain, my dear,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely he was keeping this a secret from Ghost. “And I will force you to wear it until you’re stuffed so full of my cum that you look pregnant.” Proving his point, he thrusted against you, thighs slapping against your own. You choked on a cry. “Understood?”

With what little will you had left, you nodded.

And then he sank his teeth into you.

You screamed into the bedsheets, König’s force being nothing near that of a love bite and rather a gouge. Only when he was satisfied, when the wound was a half inch or so deep, did he retract. His veil remained hiked above his nose, and, luckily for you, you couldn’t see the blood dripping from his teeth, staining his lips and his tongue as he licked it from the outskirts of his mouth, and, when he descended again, your shoulder. He gave low, panting moans, the taste of your metal dancing on his tongue. You felt warmth trickle from your shoulder, heard it drip onto the sheets. Ghost returned, to which König, parting from your skin, muttered a “Perfect,” before he pulled out, the sound of your drenched bodies slickened in parting making your stomach turn. Before you could even make a noise of relief or protest, something large and round and cold - unused - was slipped inside you. You grimaced at the feeling, shivering. You dared to turn and face König and Ghost, who only admired the view of you. Their eyes gleamed, primal - filled with authority and the need to breed you.

Without thought, you reached behind to feel what was inside you, wincing when shards of pain shot down your arm from your shoulder. And you were swiftly rewarded with a hand gripping your wrist, twisting it in such a way that was distinctly militarian. Utilitarian. Made to disarm. You barely contained a yelp.

“Not yet, Princess,” Ghost said. A thumb smoothed over your aching wrist, as if it didn’t belong to the hand that was causing your suffererance. Ghost’s grip on your wrist loosened. Your breath remained uneven.

Before you could say or do anything more, you felt König press his knife to your throat, a ritual you’d grown accustomed yet not comfortable to, flushing the barely-blunted edge to your Eve’s apple. You could see him smile beneath the mask, eyes crinkling. Ghost loomed over the two of you, ever the shadow he was born to be, eyes glinting as he watched you.

“Now, if you behave for us—“

“And be a good little girl—“

“We won’t be forced to use this,” König punctuated his point with a flash of the knife against your skin. 

“Or this.” Ghost retrieved the lighter, catching its silver body in the light, glinting in your eyes.

You swallowed — shallowly — your throat bobbing against the blade, just shy of impaling itself upon its metal body. When you gave no sign of resistance, König lowered himself between your legs, his great arms bulging, veins carving across muscle, county lines on a country of a man.

All the while, your shoulder bled, jagged blood lines webbing down your chest, racing.

Ghost stroked himself, lacking the timidity of a man whose body admitted this was his first time doing anything like this, yet deficient of the depravity to give it his all. He was saving himself - his release - for something else.

König pressed his thighs up against the back of your own, his aching cock pulsing against your abused core. Even the mere implication of what he was going to do with it made you ache and throb, more so than you already were. His body was scorching behind you, burning you.

Though, with your cunt plugged, you wondered what they could possibly be planning on doing with you now. Unless…

Ghost resided close by, watching König manhandle you.

König brought a strong hand around your jaw and pulled you so that your back was flush against his chest, his heart, which hammered like a chisel into your back. Yet his heart did not thunder out of fear.

Saliva pooled in your throat, and you swallowed against the blade, heart spiking as your skin forfeited itself to the cold metal. König rolled against you, as if trying to fit the shape of your curvature. He grunted when his dick was caught between your soft cheeks.

“Now,” he said, breath shuttering, “do exactly as I say and I’ll let you live.”

Electricity shot down every nerve that wasn’t already fried, your throat grew drier and your heart leapt. You could feel sweat pouring from your every pore, making you feel sticky, adhesive; trying to keep König attached to you.

König yanked you, making you wince, and forced you to face Ghost. Ghost still stroked himself, though with more frevour now, staring you dead in the eyes as he did so. His unwavering gaze made your face burn, caused you to try to cover yourself - only for König to press the expanse of the knife to your throat once more.

“Don’t.”

And with that said, you let your hands drop to your sides, swaying as you relinquished control of your body to König. Your eyes rested on the bedsheets, Ghost lingering in the corners of your vision. Until he came to the forefront, steps thunderous, waves crashing together in a roaring sea. He took your jaw in his hand and made you look up at him. Your neck panged, sore.

“Rather disobedient tonight, aren’t you.” he said. Merely a fact, not a debate. The feeling of König’s knife and Ghost’s hand in such close proximity felt more dangerous than if it were either alone.

When you didn’t answer, instead staring up at Ghost glassy-eyed, he sighed. Or laughed. He released your jaw, letting you retract, and trailed his fingers to the side of your head. He took a lock of hair between his fingers and released himself with his other hand, reaching for his lighter.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tone belying the terror which resided beneath. Barely. You tried to pull back, but König’s weight made it impossible. He was a wall, no more human than a brick, yet possessing the monstrosity of a Bible’s worth of demons. And Ghost was no different.

Ghost said nothing as he flipped the lid and flicked the flame into being. When you refused to offer yourself, König forced you forward, leaning over your shoulder, your throbbing, burning bleeding shoulder, watching the spectacle.

Your eyes widened, remnant tears falling, and looked up at Ghost. There was a smirk beneath his mask, you just couldn’t see it. It existed in feeling, the rarest, most difficult universal language to learn, let alone master.

Ghost brought the flame to the tips of your hair. You shrieked, tried backing away again, but to no avail. The flame consumed the strands bunched between Ghost’s fingers, and an image that sent cold dread washing over you flashed behind your eyes. You, on fire, with nobody around to help.

You were going to die.

The flame consumed your strands, voracious in its pursuit as it left blackened, frail, curled hairs in its wake.

Before the flame reached your head, Ghost lifted his mask and wet his fingers with his tongue, putting the flame out between them. Your body remained still. Paralysed. The image remained, and you hadn’t realised it had not come to pass.

“If you talk back to us again, I’ll let the flame burn your skin next time.” Ghost’s head tilted, taking in your petrification. “Understand?”

Breaking from your haze, you looked up at Ghost, tearful. You nodded. His eyes crinkled.

“Good.”

He closed the lighter and discarded it. The knife had not been removed from the equation, however. It rested in König’s hand.

Ghost made a gesture to König, who tugged you back into his arms. Ghost joined you, coming to sit beside König, behind you.

Ghost’s length was already coated in pre and your own fluids, albeit some had crusted, making it easy for him to slip in and out, especially considering how wet you’d become, how much of a mess they’d made of you. Ghost imparted himself unto you, pressing the head of his cock against your puckered hole, nudging his way in. You braced yourself, tried to relax so he could finish and bring an end to this trial of your ordeal.

Seeing Ghost already indulging in your torture, König joined, doing away with his restraint. Dissatisfied with the prospect of merely touching himself. He brought the head of his cock to your hole. Ghost growled, but König didn’t move. In fact, slipping a hand across your stomach, he slammed into you.

You gasped, the air knocked out of your lungs. Ghost, now no longer afforded the time to take his own, laced his fingers into your hair and forced his length into you, gripping your head. “Easy, Princess,” he said, voice low, breath shuttering as the friction from your tight walls and Konig’s cock. It became a competition, one he was determined to win.

König caught his breath, still adjusting to his cock being deliciously squeezed between you and Ghost, pressing his hand to your stomach.

“I can feel myself inside you,” he breathed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to where his had been. And you felt him.

For the second time that night, you felt König’s dick impaling you. You almost wept.

“Stop distractin’ her,” Ghost intervened, stroking your hair. You winced, cautious.

König made no protests, and Ghost began his pace. He started off slow, more for his benefit than yours, and slipped an inch or so deeper into the chasm of your asshole each time. And you could do nothing but take it - take him - and try not to cry or moan every time he hit a sensitive spot.

König, seemingly having released his earlier grudge, was slower with you, too. He fed himself into you, inch by inch, enthralled by the image of your hole stretched over both of them, bursting as your body grappled with the weight forming in your lower half.

Their pace wasn’t in time with the other as it had been earlier; it was uncoordinated, softer in one aspect and rougher in another - it was purely and unequivocally the pursuit of their own pleasure as their earlier displays had been. Yet, there was some consideration there in the way that König’s head fell to the crook of your neck, resting there as his hand smoothed over your front, over himself sheathed inside you. The way he whispered “Good girl,” into your ear, so quiet the words almost caught in the fabric of his mask. The knife remained, though. In the periphery, on the edge of the bed. Neither here nor there.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s breathing grew shallow, shorter, with every stroke of his cock and the slap of his balls against your raw backside, breath hitching when he hit a sweet spot. König aided him, digging his fingers into your stomach where Ghost’s cock  pounded you, forcing Ghost to give out a surprised moan. His grip on your hair softened, only there to guide you now rather than to discipline. When you clenched around him, an involuntary tensing of your body, he gave a low moan.

Your body ached, and so did your insides. 

A vague, wilted bloom of pleasure persisted below your stomach, though it wasn’t electric. Rather, your body’s exhausted, half-hearted attempt at quelling the hopelessness of your situation by trying to get something out of it. It began in your centre, the lovechild of König and Ghost’s incessant pounding and moaning, and the prospect of your future with them; the future that sloshed around inside you with every thrust, plugged, sealed. Promised.

After what was less than an eternity yet more than mere minutes, König finished, releasing a battlecry of a moan, his body seizing up as his release rippled through him. He continued to roll into you, though subdued. His cum reached deep within you, you being vertical again. He pressed a single kiss to your shoulder through his mask, his breath almost felt through the veil against your skin.

Ghost followed shortly after, throwing his head back and groaning your name into the confines of his mask, warm, thick ropes of his cum painting the inside of your ass white. You could feel how thick he was inside you, like a web. A trap.

Through half-lidded, hazy eyes, Ghost looked down at you. He perhaps smiled, having outlasted König, won, and petted your head - your hair. He pulled out. “Took us so well.” His voice was drunk, soaked in lust. “Good girl.”

You dared to wonder if that was the only name they knew for you, if they’d forgotten your true name already.

König pulled out of you, and, in a turn of events, shifted from behind you and brought you into his arms. He pressed you into the bedsheets - into the pillows - your arms raised above your head. To sleep–perchance to dream - of a reality where you remained unsullied and unused by two men who were strangers to you.

He reached beneath the bed - a cove of wonder, at this stage - and withdrew a plug. You didn’t fight him off as he plunged it into you, marveling at the bulge in your stomach, the shape of your future.

Bound by the belt and gagged by your own fear, you watched - felt - Ghost sink down on top of you, half-hard cock resting on your stomach, heavy, like a statement. He made sure not to squeeze the mound in your middle, rather taking to admiring it. Without taking his eyes off you, he reached behind him, clicked his fingers, and König brought him a candle and his discarded lighter. He lit the candle and held it over you. The flame danced in his eyes, wavered. He put it on the bedside, taking your breasts in his calloused hands as it burned in your periphery.

“Won’t be long now,” he said, and you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or König. Königanswered, knowing infinitely more than you. He looked down at you, an uncharacteristic fondness growing in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he said. He brushed a sweat-sodden, stray lock of hair from your eyes. “Not long at all.”

“You’ll be bursting with our offspring in no time, Love.” Your heart stopped. Despite the sentiment in his eyes, you failed to feel the warmth he was trying to project - the heat radiating from his hands at either side of your head. Your blood ran cold.

“Why…” your voice caught in your throat, and you looked away. You didn’t want to speak out of turn. Not again.

Ghost and König’s head tilted. Had the situation not been so dire, you may have found it endearing.

“Go on.” Ghost’s voice was monotone, yet curiosity danced within it. The candle continued to burn.

You sniffed, swallowed, tried not to think of everything, tried not to burst out crying. You looked up into Ghost’s blackened eyes. Something initial and unreadable slumbered there.

“Why me?”

Ghost backed up, peeling his eyes off you and looking to König, who only mirrored his expression.

“Why–” you sobbed, breath hitching, “--Why did you choose me?”

“Oh, Darlin’...” Ghost sighed. He brought a hand to your cheek, and you winced. Something almost blue, sorrowful, shimmered in his eyes. He cupped your cheek, his hand a hammock for your megrim, splitting head, the thoughts that bundled and overflowed from within.

“We…we chose you because…” Ghost looked to König, who gave a shallow nod. Confirmation. “We chose you because we–”

“You’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen.”

At König’s interruption, Ghost’s eyes widened fractionally, yet agreement nestled between both men, just as you were pinned beneath Ghost. Said man’s attention returned back to you and your teary eyes.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” he said, wiping a lone tear from your cheek with his thumb. “We’ve seen how you are with your friends, your family. Strangers. You…really seem to care about them.”

Had you not been exhausted, you’d have questioned the pair (or perhaps not) about when - how - they’d seen you before this encounter. Then again, even in this state, the implication weighed heavy on you.

Yet, another bloomed inside you, one you detested; the forewarnings and warmth of flattery, the timid fluttering in your chest, a single butterfly, straying from its kaleidoscope. The snowflake before the avalanche.

Tears slipped from the outer corners of your eyes, and Ghost caught every one of them. Lifting the bottom of his mask, he kissed them away, leading salty trails from your eyes to the corners of your lips, where, upon his falterance, he pressed his lips to yours. Despite the entirety of the evening, it was chaste, concerned only with you. Ghost pressed you further into the covers, taking you deeper, his lips beginning to move against yours. You didn’t return it. But he didn’t seem to mind.

Parting, Ghost’s cheeks - or that which you could see of them - were pink, flushed with the beginnings of abashment. He panted quietly, looking down at you, regarding you as if you were the only person in all the world. And he gave you his parting word.

“I can think of no one better to bear my offspring than you.”

König watched, a flash of envy’s serpentine robe dancing behind his eyes, here one moment and gone the next. He placed a hand on Ghost’s shoulder.

“The candle,” was all he said. Ghost gave minimal response and reached for the burning length of wax on the bedside. It wavered, then flickered out of mortal existence when Ghost snuffed it out, lowering his mask and returning to anonymity after the fact.

Your stare flicked between Ghost, König, and the candle. Ghost pressed down - or rather, rested his full weight on - the bottom of your stomach, squeezing the breath out of you, making you fold. Something trickled from your plugged cunt, forced out under Ghost’s weight. Ghost placed a hand on your chest and pushed you back down.

You could smell the candle’s perfume as Ghost tipped it, hot, running wax bleeding over its lip and directly onto your nipple. Your gasped, nay, shrieked, König muffling your cry with his hand. It burned, ebbed. Throbbed. The sensitive, erect skin tingled as the wax settled, hardening. Trapping it.

“Shh, Princess,” Ghost said, smoothing a hand over your hair, looking past the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s alright.”

No it’s not! you wanted to say, to scream from the rooftops. But no-one could hear you now. You could only swallow and endure.

Ghost’s hand trailed from your hair to your breast, which he kneaded with a softness foreign to this night. His eyes glimmered with something incomprehensible as he all but bore down on you. You hated to admit it, but he seemed tender, which, combined with his gentle massaging, made the space between your legs feel warm with a subdued current, the hair raises before lightning strikes.

And that tenderness ran concurrent with his cruelty. For just a moment later, he poured hot wax onto your other nipple, now having coated both in a red, hardening shield. You cried against and into König’s hand, which he kept firmly against your lips. He ran his other hand through your hair, emulating the soothing cycle of comfort he’d only ever seen, not enacted.

Ghost discarded the candle on the bedside table and cupped your other breast with his now-free hand, leaning down to press kisses to the valley between the two. They started out as gentle, yet firm, chasing away your fresh tears and seeming to ease enough of your tension that König no longer saw the need to keep you quiet, instead resting his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them. Or keeping you pinned.

Ghost’s kisses trailed down beneath your breasts, lapping at their underside with a slow tongue. You shuddered under his touch, his watch. He veered off to one breast and, without warning, engulfed your wax-coated nipple with his mouth, peeling the wax off with his teeth. You nearly gasped as cold air rushed to the sensitive bud, repeating the process with the other nipple as Ghost peeled the wax from it, leaving you feeling more exposed - raw.

He gave you no time to adjust to this feeling - as if a layer of your skin had been shed -  before he took one of your buds in his mouth and sucked. Hard.

Your body convulsed, your sensitivity making Ghost’s actions nigh-unbearable, making you mewl. In spite of that, it felt…good. It sent a shock of electricity to your clit, making you tingle and writhe. You resisted the urge to rock yourself against Ghost’s hips as he remained nestled atop your thighs. König’s hand slithered down to your chest to keep you still. Ghost stuffed his mouth with your breast, and for a second - a split moment in history - you wondered, considered, if he’d choke on it, if he’d be okay.

He erased the doubt from your mind, voice loud and clear as day.

“Can’t wait ‘til you’re pregnant,” he said. He spared you a glance, peering up from beneath the shadows of his mask. “‘Nd I get to suck you dry; milk you like the whore you are.”

König made a noise of agreement. “Pretty little bitch, only good for breeding and fucking.”

“And trust me, Darlin’,” Ghost rasped, panting lightly as he pulled away. “You’ll never go a day where you’re not full.”

Proving his point, Ghost retracted, his cock catching on your clit, trailing to your hole. The implication alone made you clench, and, for a second, you wanted to believe that it was because your body didn’t want him - want them - and was trying to keep them out. On the contrary. It was practicing to keep them in.

“No-one will ever want you when we’re done with you.” König seethed, eyes dark behind the shadow of the mask. “There won’t be another thought behind those eyes, except of us.” 

You sobbed - mourned - for yourself. For the future they were both robbing from you and holding hostage, with your demise nestled snugly within the memory of that camera, and the child you were surely carrying now, stomach bulging with the makings of it; symbolic. Ghost brought the knife against your cheek, having obtained it during your distress, dragging the blunted edge across your skin. 

“We’ll mark you up so good that no man will ever even look at you.” Ghost tilted you to face him with the knife, dead stare penetrating you, making you feel cold. 

“Now, Princess–” König’s voice boomed, making you jump - arch - against Ghost’s chest. “Touch yourself.”

The command was foreign to you, completely alien. You almost asked him to repeat it for fear of not having heard him correctly. He looked at you - looked down at you - with a half-lidded stare. Condescending.

When you didn’t move, Ghost brought the knife to your thigh and nicked it, once, twice, making you yelp, spasm on instinct. And when you failed to answer again, in the half a second they spared you, he made a long cut along the inside of your soft thigh. The wounds were red, doubtless already bleeding. They stung, reminded you of their brutality. Reminded you of the gouge on your shoulder.

“Didn’t you fucking hear me?” König spat. You flinched, back into the bed. Again, when you made no move to act, Ghost slid from your thighs and forced you up onto your knees, slipping behind you, holding the knife to your throat. An arm slithered around your waist and held you there, his hand caressing your swollen stomach as it slithered past. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to sooth you or prevent you from fleeing.

König took a step towards you, and Ghost had to hold you down to stop you from jumping. He held up a hand to König, who stepped back. His aura strangled you, let you know that he was far from pleased. You swallowed, and Ghost leaned down and whispered in your ear. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll help you.”

He took your hand in his, and, like a puppet master controlling his creation, he slid your hand down to your cunt, ticklish (or just uncomfortable) with a foreign object disguised as your own trying to near it. The camera didn’t help, either, reminding you that everything was on the line.

You steeled yourself, tried thinking of anything else other than the situation. Ghost’s hardened musculature digging into your back, the feeling of his fingers encircling your clit, making you gasp and recoil, fleeing from one evil to another. Ghost sighed into you, rutted his hips against your back. Something almost sharp was beginning to dig into the dimple of your back, and despite knowing what it was, you pretended not to. Anything to make this situation less traumatic - embarrassing - for you than it already was.

Luckily, the pleasure welling in your core as Ghost pressed against your clit almost helped you forget that he was not, in fact, a heartless criminal - one of two whose only goal it seemed to rob you of your life, though not to be as merciful as to kill you, rather to hold your very existence captive.

Before you could begin to enjoy the cord tightening in your centre, Ghost’s fingers crept from your clit to the plug in your pussy. He slipped it out with a pop and grasped your hand, bringing it to your now leaking cunt. He pressed - forced - your fingers against them, slipping past your slick folds and inside you. Or, at least tried to.

Your walls clamped down, allowing nobody - not even yourself - inside. You’d have been relieved of this had this not been Ghost and König you were dealing with. Upon discovering your resistance, Ghost sighed quietly. “Relax,” he told you. “It’s okay. ‘T’s just me.”

And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You thought.

Ghost may have sensed how you tightened up even more. And he hadn’t the patience to humour you. Shedding your fingers, he spread your lips with his own, sinking one inside you, testing you. You remained firmly shut, a vault to which no one had the combination. But Simon had a bomb. And very, very little patience.

“Fine, then,” he said. “If you wanna play this the hard way, we’ll play.”

Without patience, he pried his fingers into you, painfully so, as he fought with your body’s natural response. Observing the scene, König began stroking himself, watching your eyes screw shut and your toes curl, the epitome of a pain.

“Ghost,” you breathed, “please, stop–”

“Silence.” König demanded, staring you dead in the eyes. In that moment of distraction, Ghost’s fingers ploughed their way into you. You cried out, the intrusion making your walls ache. Ghost kept you flush against his chest, caging you between his thighs, keeping you obedient with a roll against your clit and the bloodied knife to your collar, dragging it.

König’s stare did little to relax you, but Ghost’s movements against the bundle of nerves between your legs made your walls flutter, the ache recede. You leaned your weight into him, and you could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his scorching skin against yours, melting into you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and hesitant, shy moans escaped between your gasping lips, to which Ghost praised you, calling you his “Good girl,” and pressing a masked kiss to your injured shoulder, making you flinch and staining the teeth of his mask red. Ruby tooth, infinitely more valuable than gold. Soon enough, soft, slick sounds filled the small room. Your cheeks bloomed with embarrassment, then paled as you remembered the camera immortalising your ordeal. Your walls tightened, chest beginning to stir with panic, but Ghost only whispered reassurances into your ear.

“This is for our eyes only,” he promised, as if he could hear your thoughts. And, though you couldn’t see it, his eyes reflected truth, honesty. As to whether König would adhere to such a sentiment was beyond you, yet he didn’t rebuke Ghost’s assurances. He pumped himself harder, faster, his breaths becoming deeper, heavier, an anchor dropped into an ocean.

You didn’t want the electric anticipation blooming in your core. You didn’t want Ghost’s thick fingers bringing you to your undoing. Yet here you were, whining and whimpering for the very man who’d forced himself on you, his other half watching nearby. You thought of how unfair it was - how easy it was for those two to get off while they left you pumped full of them with little in return, save for this forced euphoria. Then, as always, logic chased your misplaced agonies away, trying to remind you of the bigger picture; the fact that these men had been inside you at all.

Your stomach clenched as Ghost, now three fingers and knuckle-deep inside you, hit your sweet spot, making you moan, your back arch. Your skin peeled from his, sweat-sodden and sticky. You wanted to hold out, to refuse König and Ghost the satisfaction of having an orgasm ripped out of you. Ghost gave a rasp of a laugh, his broad chest ever a reminder of your lack of escape.

“Nearly there, Princess,” he said. “Just a little more for Daddy.”

At that, you couldn’t hold it anymore. You gave a wanton, loud moan, the call of a dying god, core spasming, euphoria shooting to each corner of your body and rendering you spent. You lay against Ghost, eyes half-lidded, muscles tingling as you relaxed, body practically on fire as you came down from your high. All the while, Ghost kept rolling his thumb against your clit, pumping his fingers into you at a subdued pace. He was waiting, like a shark circling blood. Your hazy mind couldn’t fathom what.

Breathing heavily, you wanted sleep to overcome you, to free you of this torture - this forced ‘pleasure’. And yet, your captors had other plans.

Practically tranquilised, Ghost pushed you onto your front, flipping you over so you could see the ceiling. He slid his fingers out of you, the wetness of his hand retracting from your pussy heard by all of you. König came into view above you, watching you. Observing you.

“Gotta act quick if you want to make sure she feels it.” Ghost said to his partner, not even sparing you another glance. He was occupied with watching your slick string and drip from his hand. König nodded and, with Ghost retracted from between your legs. Your heart spiked, thrumming in your chest, as you came to realise what they were doing. You almost reached out for him, begged for him to take you instead of König.

“No–!” Your rasping voice was cut off with a sharp slap, König having taken residence between your legs, the side of your face stinging, his hand imprinted there.

Still sensitive from your orgasm, you were hyper-aware of König’s coated length prodding against your puffed lips, from which you tried to retreat. Your energy depleted, you could only crawl an inch or two from König until he grabbed your knees and dragged you right back, bumping you against his rock-hard cock and making you cry out.

He didn’t let you get away again, instead calling you a “Spoiled brat,” and, almost as punishment, shoved his entire length into you with neither ceremony, nor courtesy. You screamed. Really screamed. The tip of König’s dick hit something inside you that shouldn’t have been accessible to him, burning your walls on the way, making them sear with agony. You felt tears burn your throat, collect in your eyes. Ghost shushed you, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing it.

He still didn’t speak to you, though.

“I warmed her up,” he said, turning to König. “I get to take her from the front.” His tone was absolute; this was not up for discussion.

König sighed, debating, then withdrew, cursing as he did so. You gasped, cold air hitting you, filling you. Not long after, Ghost settled where König had been, his associate coming to your other side. Ghost hoisted you up against his chest, your head lolling on his shoulder. König, now behind you, reached down and drew your slick down to your other hole, and it was in that second that a terror-filled epiphany hit you. And you couldn’t escape it.

Ghost wrapped your legs around his waist, your bound arms behind his head, his cock sat at your lips, the tip just barely pushing in. You choked back a sob, feeling König’s tip poking your other hole. The fact that you were sandwiched between the two - fully able to see what they were doing and how they looked doing it - made you sick. And it was in this position that you saw the blinking red light of the camera stood on the dresser, capturing all of it.

Ghost nudged the first couple of inches in, eyes squeezing shut as he did, breath wavering. Given how he took you from the front, he could feel his bulging cock in your stomach, against his front. He hit a part of you that had, miraculously, been spared thus far of much injury. Not for long, though. Ghost’s breathing shuttered, and, in his moment of stillness, König began pushing into you. His chest was broad against your back, giving you no means of escape.

This was different from before - different from when they’d both taken a single hole, filling you until you thought you’d tear. You felt middled - muddled - felt like a plug socket.

König made a sound of labour as he inched his way inside you, forcing your tight hole to take more of him. Your stomach was already swelling with half of Ghost’s length inside you, and now König’s mass only caused the mound in your stomach to grow. You dug your nails into Ghost’s hair, his scalp, the only thing you could grab onto, trying to let the pain of being stretched out so far pass.

Ghost groaned, his member twitching inside you. You could feel a prominent vein of his pulsing, almost buzzing inside you. König grunted, stabilising himself by slamming one hand on your waist. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Princess,” The name that dripped from König’s lips was oddly gentle, tender. His head was bowed, but you could feel his shoulders heave as he tried to collect his composure. Ghost, too, but he was less guarded about showing you just how good you made him feel.

He forced the rest of himself in, not as much of a gargantuan task as it had been earlier, given that you’d taken him before. But your sensitivity still made you sore, made you want to shy away from him. That, and the entire situation as a whole did little to make you want to stay.

Seeing Ghost buried to the hilt in you, König seemed to come to life, growling as any sensitivity he displayed towards you before vanished, replaced by a snarling creature. He rolled his hips, catching Ghost and sliding the rest of himself into you. Your lungs stuttered, your body stilled, tensing up. Both König and Ghost let out a groan, feeling you tighten around them.

“Fuck,” Ghost panted, “you must want us more than you’re letting on.”

The fight had left you long ago; you did not argue, nor did you corroborate Ghost’s claim. You just lay there and took it. You could feel how swollen your stomach was.

For however long after, while Ghost and König thrusted into you, you closed your eyes and tried to fight the dim pleasure growing in the cracked recesses of your core. Ghost pressed against your clit, making fragments of rapture flood through you, whether you wanted it or not.

“I’ll breed you so well,” Ghost panted, breathing heavy. His cock twitched, his hips rolled against yours. He was close. He brought your leg up beneath his arm and held you there, hitting you at a deeper angle. König grunted, pulling out and slamming back into you.

Ghost leaned into you, needing to be deeper - needing to fill you with as much of his load as your body would allow. And then some.

“We’ll raise an army of our own flesh and blood - our love.”

Love? You wanted to say. Love?!

What they were doing to you was not love. It displayed a hatred you’d never seen before - a pure selfishness as to strip you of your future, of your prospects, and all to become the mother of the children of the two monsters who held you captive in an unknown prison. ‘Home’ is what they’d convince you it was.

Ghost came inside you, a rasping moan tearing through his throat like light from a  beacon. You could feel his warm cum seeping into you, binding you to him as you gasped. König followed not long after, giving his all in his last sharp thrusts, the cum leaking from your cunt only spurring him to finish, essentially fucking remnants of Ghost’s cum back into another oriphis.

Your body practically jumped against Ghost’s, the force of König’s strength propelling you against him. And he held you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close to him, whispering praises into your ear. 

König let out one last moaning growl before he stilled. You could feel his cum pumping into you - water through a hose pipe. You almost thought that perhaps he’d given into his savage instincts and transformed into a beast entirely, knotting you. But alas, the gods seemed to grant you a sliver of mercy for the fact that König’s monstrous personality remained concealed behind human skin, hiding it from anyone looking in. Only you had experienced its brutality first hand on such a personal, intimate level.

The air was thick with an unfamiliar scent, one that was no doubt pheromonal, intertwined with tension. Yet, it did not come from you, for you were far too exhausted to even muster an emotion. You merely panted into Ghost’s chest, König resting against your back, lying on you, sandwiching you further. The tension was between Ghost and König, that much you knew, You just prayed you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

“Don’t see why you get to breed her first,” König said. Ghost sighed.

“We won’t be sure which of us she’ll have borne a child for ‘til it’s here. Stop complainin’.” He panted, chest heaving. “You said I got to take her first, anyway. Change your mind?”

“That was before; this is now.”

Hearing them argue put you on edge, despite there being a laze to their tone which suggested the issue did not run as deep as it seemed.

“Oh, come off it,” Ghost said. “We’ll both get to breed her until we’re satisfied, anyway. So what’s the hurry?”

For possibly the hundredth time that night, your heart sank. Your gaze drifted from the camera to the door. You could chance it, you thought. You could at least try.

The glinting of an object on the bedside table caught your eye, and you found yourself straining to see it. The knife. The instrument they’d used to play a tune for themselves on your body like a harp. There it lay. The evidence and instigator of your capture - your captor - laying on the table like a clock or a pair of reading glasses would. It showed you the worst - made you aware of the fact that you were with them now, no longer held hostage by that very weapon, but by the creeping fondness you could taste seeping through your skin like poison. You’d taken to them, much how they’d taken you. Wanted, and used.

Bonus Ending

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost

Taglist: @fluffysmiko @pawpilled @theboywhosavedtheworldonce @kat247 @diejager @instantcowgirlduck

Starting the year off with a literal bang ! Cover made by me :-)

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, threesome, poly!soapghost x reader, grinding, nipple play, brief handjob, finger sucking, double penetration, implied size kink, tummy bulge, praise, degradation *not proofread, just pure horny

[for all the ghost x reader x soap fanfic wanters <33]

reblogs and comments are appreciated <33

MINORS DNI !!

it was damn near two am. training had barely ended before the three of you hurdled to your shared room. soap and ghost sat on their beds, nearly falling asleep as soon as they did. though they were dead tired and soap wanted nothing more than to just hop in the shower with you for some much needed time alone, the day had been too grueling to do anything remotely intimate.

minutes passes and all of you were showered and laying in bed ready to sleep... other than good ol' soap. soap decided that now was the best time to just get it all out. while ghost had stepped out of the room for a quick minute, soap took matters into his own hands. you lay on your side, trying to fall asleep when you feel his hands slide over your hips. that's when you feel it.

you knew the three of you needed this, so you flip over and throw your legs over his hips, straddling him. soap only look on at you, letting out a shaky moan when you circle your hips above his. his hands grab the fat of your hips, bucking his hips up into you. "just like that baby, just like that." soft moans fell from your lips, but you knew this wasn't enough.

it never was.

"I was gone for two minutes and you've already started without me?" both you and soap just moaned, grinding your hips a little harder into each other. your eyes are glazed in lust, letting your aching hole guide you. you tugged your shirt over your head, bare chest falling a victim to cool air. soap pulls you down to him, still grinding his hips into you as he tugged your nipple with his teeth.

soap hurriedly tugged your shorts down, pushing them down your thighs before you got up to kick them off. your underwear was gone with it, leaving you bare while both of them were still clothed. you tugged on soaps sweats, haphazardly pulling them down his thighs with his boxers. you spit into your hand, stroking his cock before impaling yourself on it.

soap open his mouth in a silent gasp, his hands immediately resting on your hips as you start circling and bouncing your hips. you nearly forgot about ghost being in the room until he pressed himself against your back, you can feel his cock throbbing against your ass. your hands are on soaps chest, keeping you stable as he forces you along his cock. ghost shoves two fingers in your mouth, feeling how your tongue swirls around them. "there we go, such a sweetheart."

simon pressed his tip to your hole, prompting johnny to stop his merciless movements. taking his now slicked fingers, he stroked himself before carefully pushing in along side johnny. johnny slowly rocked his hips, distracting you from the burn of the stretch. once ghost bottomed out, the two set opposing paces. one went out and the other came in, the cycle never left you empty. "look at this little whore, johnny."

your thighs were shaking, overwhelmed by pleasue. "so fucking good for us." the way they talked lke you weren’t being speared open on their cocks sent jolts down your spine. johnny pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling your hole clench around him when he pressed into the bump in your stomach. "taking us so deep, baby."

your body trembled, nearly falling onto soap as ghost took a tight hold of you hips, picking up his pace and chasing his release. "go on angel, cum for us." the deep rumble of his voice sent chills down your spine as stars shoot across your vision. your kouth hangs open in a silent scream as you squirm and shake in their hold.

the walls of your spasmming hole had both of them shaking as they hold your hips tightly, a familiar warmth flooding you. the only audible sound in the room is your erratic breathing. even if sleep is the only thought in your head, soap and ghost seem too pent up to sleep just yet. besides how are they supposed to not get hard when you look so pretty, twitching and shaking on soaps lap?

"stay with us love, we're not done."

I feel like... if you call ghost daddy in bed he'll go crazy

ghost with a daddy kink ? oh yeah… he definitely eats it up, when his prettiest princess calls him daddy in bed. <33

—❤︎︎ — DADDY’S HOME . . . ❞

SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER

✵. !! WC : 3.7k

✵. !! TAGS & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - service/softdom!ghost (he’s a lil bit mean), cunnilingus, daddy kink, size kink/difference, praise/petname usage, subtle spit kink, squirting, thigh slapping, overstimulation, dumbification, pussydrunk!ghost (hes in LOVE with your pussy), orgasm denial, fingering, the mask stays ON.

✵. !! A/N : hihi babies ! just a lil treat for y’all and thank you for 700+ follows and all the love you’ve given for simon says ♡!! hope you enjoy this mini fic, lmk how we feeling about it !! <33 ps… i folded. im sat. i actually wanna call this man daddy so bad. 🧎‍♀️

In your mind, there was one word— one forsaken word that you refused to utter. A word that only the most sexually deprived would use.

A person with their morals in check, should never attempt to sexualize something that is meant as an innocent title and name. Usually reserved for an actual father, or someone fulfilling the role of a male caregiver.

Right.

A person with their morals in check.

Right. You totally weren’t projecting… and deeply shaming your own innermost yearning, to desperately call your boyfriend ‘daddy’ while he fucked you.

It definitely wasn’t a thing you could say you were proud to admit outloud. Nope, you would quite frankly rather be caught dead than have your questionable cravings exposed to the world.

But every single day, you swore to god that your boyfriend tried to purposely provoke you into using the absolutely forbidden word.

Simon always took care of you. Whether that’d be making sure you got to work safely, cooking you meals on days that you were too tired to be bothered, or even texting you throughout the day to make sure you were resting properly.

You know. You know that’s probably the absolute bare minimum, and what a boyfriend is supposed to do for you in a serious relationship. But you just couldn’t help that ache and flutter you got in your heart, that made you so weak for him.

He worked so hard every single day, busy and moving nonstop on less than four hours of full rest. Even when he had his most stressful and agonizingly long days at work, he still tried to reach out to you. It could be a single worded text message or a phone call that only lasted for five minutes.

No matter what or without question, Simon will do his absolute best to tend to you. It was truly unconditional love, devotion, and his unspoken rule to give you whatever you most desired.

And you feel sick— sick in the head for letting your insatiable lust take over your sense of morality. Putting his mostly wholesome catering ways, in the same category as what you needed to relieve that scorching, sore pounding in your core.

That was alright though, you could live off your little fantasies and scenarios you created in your mind. Always making yourself dizzy and soft headed, imagining a world where he would make love to you and refer to himself as ‘daddy’.

It would suit him so well. Your hulk of a man, who had to put a slight bend in his knees whenever he came through the doors of your home. His mellow, husky voice always gently rasping to you— almost never, ever raising it higher than an octave at you. The way he could spoil you absolutely rotten, only ever calling you by his own little terms of endearment.

Always putting you first when he fucked you. Even in times when it got rough or you two were experimenting with things on the more intense side, you always came first. Literally and physically, since Simon couldn't properly get off himself, without knowing you were completely satisfied.

Your aftercare would consist of cuddling, he’d coo the sweetest of praises as he handled your sore limbs.

“My sweet girl, look at how pretty she is. Did such a good job today, angel. I know baby, I'll take good care of you now. Such a pretty girl, aren't you?”

It’s perfectly fine.

You could keep all those things about him to yourself. Just let your brain work its magic, to create fantasies and fill the deep void of your scorching carnality. You always subconsciously needed that one little thing to make yourself come even harder. But you were a good, grateful girl for him and always let Simon know how well he treated your body.

It’s perfectly fine. You don’t need a daddy kink in your life, to make yourself feel better. You were so much better than that, and you’d never let Simon get the idea that you were some ill, perverted deviant.

It was all fine.

Until today, when he finally pulls the most forbidden word out your mouth— and satiates the bubbling, hot desire that has a heavy chokehold on your heart and soul.

You don’t know how things escalated so fast.

One minute, you get his text that he’s on his way home and he’ll see you soon.

Out of pure joy and excitement to finally see him again after three weeks, you start to get yourself ready for the evening by taking an extra long shower. Making sure you’ve lathered and exfoliated every inch of your body in vanilla scented body polish, with a hint of brown sugar and cocoa butter. It was always Simon’s favorite scent on you, and he’d seemed more clingy than usual whenever your sweet aroma hit his nose.

The next hour, you throw on a simple, yet cheeky little lingerie set.

A delicate floral embroidered baby blue bra, with its matching mini stringed thong panty. You couldn’t help but fall in love with it at first sight. The design is a lovely work of art, the milky color enhancing the glow of your soft skin— yet it’s so scandalous on your body.

You did purposely get a smaller size, but on top of that it was made of see through mesh material. Not a single doubt in your mind that if he looked close enough, Simon could make out the shape of your nipples through the bra. And between your legs? The outline of your folds were perfectly clear and transparent against the light color of your panties.

After spending another minute admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror and taking a few selfies of your enticing form, you slip on a fluffy cream colored robe and head to the kitchen. You wanted to get something in your stomach before Simon came home, so you decided to lightly snack on a slice of pomegranate fruit.

You don’t even make it to the fridge before you hear the sharp clicking of keys turning a door knob, and feel the cold gust of wind that comes with the front door being swung open.

A gasp and squeal flies out your mouth as you bounce up and down on your toes, the actual sight of your boyfriend trudging in through the doorway makes your heart swell and pound in your chest.

“Baby!” You practically skip on your feet towards him, unable to hide your excitement of his abrupt appearance, as he starts taking quick strides to meet you halfway.

You think with how fast Simon approaches towards you, and him not even bothering to take off his shoes at the front door, he must’ve been just as excited to see you.

When you two finally meet each other in the middle of the hallway, you give him a big, dazzling smile as you go to lean in to hug him.

Before you can get your arms around him, he places a large hand on the small of your back and pulls you in close to his chest. You gape up at him, your smile slowly melting down to a look of pure confusion. Knees already feeling wobbly at his close proximity, and the way he has to tilt his head down to look you in the eyes.

Your breath hitches in your throat, when he slowly drags his open palm up along the cotton material of your robe. Even through its thickness, you can feel the heat radiating off his hand that follows along the curve of your back. Sending tingles down your spine, when his hand eventually makes its way up to the soft nape of your neck.

You both stare at each other. Your eyes become hazy and unfocused, while his dark ones scan over your perfect little form. You hear him pull in a deep breath of air through his nose. Holding it in his chest for five seconds before letting it back out, while he drags his eyes up back onto yours.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day long, y’know that?” He mutters these words, yet somehow they’re loud enough to ring and echo in your eardrums. You pull your lips in your mouth, feeling your core thump in tune with the pitter patter of your heartbeat.

You practically whimper out loud, as he continues onto his sentence,

“ ‘S about time I came home. Think it’s only right to show my princess how much I really missed her, wouldn’t you agree, pretty baby ?”

That was the only warning you were given… for what your boyfriend truly had planned for you, once he finally got his hands on you. Everything after that moment, truly did escalate as if time were being fasted forward.

You knew he missed you. Without him vocally telling you how much he thought of you, his actions spoke much louder than his words.

He was so sloppy.

From the way he practically rips your robe off your trembling body, to pushing you down onto your shared mattress and diving face first into the warm heat of your clothed pussy.

He was truly like a dog in heat. Not even bothering to take his mask off completely from his head, and only lifts it enough to show you his parting lips as he comes face to face with the growing patch of wetness sticking in your panties.

“Look at my pretty lil’ lady,” he coos softly, hooking his thumb into the side of your soiled panties and pulling them to the side to expose your glistening cunt to his heavy eyes. “Missed me, haven’t you? Can’t imagine how tight ‘n upset you are, since I haven’t been givin’ you proper treatment lately.”

It always blew your mind when Simon literally talked to your pussy.

Speaking in soft murmurs and giving it the same delicate pet names that he gave you, the owner of it. As dumb as it probably sounded, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel that ugly swirl of jealousy when he practically treated it like it was an entire living and breathing person.

You don’t have time to mull over your childish feelings, letting out a squeak when he grabs both of your thighs and presses them back until your knees squish against your chest.

“Know you’re mad at me, little one” Another squeak sounds out your throat, as you feel him turn his head to the side of your thigh and he lets his teeth sink into the doughy flesh of your skin. He hums, sucking on the flesh before letting it go and pressing a soft kiss to the flaming bruise he leaves behind. “Gonna show you how much I’ve missed splittin’ you open on my tongue.”

He follows through with his words, putting his full attention back onto your pussy. Using his index and middle fingers to pry open the thick lips of your cunt, groaning when he sees your hole twitching and spasming over nothing. The scent of your nectar coating your thighs and leaking out your pussy, makes him feel even more high and drunk off your arousal.

You’re so messy already. And like the gentleman that he was, Simon always took the initiative to help clean up messes that you made.

Still keeping his fingers spread enough to keep your lips parted, he lolls his thick tongue out before swiping it on your slit. You mewl and flinch at the feeling of his warm tongue, but he grips the side of your thighs to keep you still. Simon continues licking up and down your cunt. Maintaining the same pattern of stroking his strong tongue, as if he were savoring a frozen delicacy that helplessly dripped down the side of its waffle cone.

Once he feels like he’s collected enough of your cum on his tongue, he pulls his tongue back into his mouth to let the taste of you sit heavy on his taste-buds.

Your toes curl and you let out a soft gasp, as you watch him hollow his cheeks, before he lets the sinful mixture of your cum and his spit fall right back into your twitching hole. Chuckling to himself as he watches the way his greedy girl swallows up the little treat he gave her.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, princess” This time he does actually talk to you, dragging his eyes up from your drenched pussy and onto your blearing, glossy ones.

“Always so good for me. Could eat you up every single day ‘n never get tired of it. Can’t believe I went so long without this, fuck.”

Simon starts to probe his tongue along your core, tracing the shape of it until he finally pushes inside you. Already feeling the tight caverns of your pussy ease up, and welcome the thickness of his tongue rubbing up against your gushing walls.

“S-Sim— oohhh,” You throw your head back, unable to finish your squealing when he pulls his tongue completely out of you, and decides to inflict his torture upon your little clit. First he flicks the tip of his tongue over it, then he lets his mouth completely envelop around your pearl. Pumping it a few times between his lips, before pulling off to run his tongue over the expanse of your pussy.

You weren’t going to last.

You were far too sensitive after not having him around to please you for three entire weeks. All you could do was sob and let it happen, letting out a cry before you feel a fat watery gush of cum shoot out your hole. Simon pays it absolutely no mind, only widening his mouth to catch every little drop you gifted him.

“That’s it. Such a sweetheart, you’re already spoiling me ‘n givin’ me a lil’ treat. ,” He feels the way your body starts to relax, already going into its state of after pleasure— but he isn't done. Far from done, actually. Hasn’t even been half of an hour yet, and your legs start shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Ah, Ah,” Simon tuts, slapping his palm hard on your soaked inner thigh, making you jolt and buck your hips up. “C’mon baby, couldn’t have thought I was done with you. ‘S only been a few minutes, ‘n you’re tapping out already? Thought my baby missed me, hm?”

It hasn’t only been a few minutes. Even in your dazed and dizzy mind, you knew that he’d been feasting on your pussy for well over twenty minutes. You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as you let out a soft sob.

“I di-did miss you, baby” You sniffle wetly, feeling him trace his thick fingers along your soaking heat. Shaking your head in protest as he slips in his middle and ring fingers, humming while you babble to him. “But I can’t ta— aaahh, t-take it anymore. ‘S too much, baby. No more.”

“Too much?” He starts to flex his fingers deep inside of you, curling them in slow motions to stimulate your special gummy spot, that has you sobbing hysterically.

“You haven’t had your fill yet, sweet girl. I can feel it. Y’see this?” Simon tries to retract his fingers from your cunt, but your walls instantly clamp down on him. “You’re not lettin’ me out. My little lady down here knows exactly what she wants. So c’mon princess, lay still ‘n let me spoil this pretty pussy rotten.”

Having absolutely zero regard for your whines and sobs, he continues his previous abuse on your poor little pussy.

Seconds, minutes, hours, decades— You can't even tell how long he stays between your thighs.

Simon uses both strong hands to keep your legs steady and trap you from squirming or running away. You can take it. You will take it. He knows how much you need this, humming at every broken little sob and wanton moan that comes screeching out your throat.

Your vision starts to blur while you stare up at the spinning ceiling. Saliva pooling in your mouth and making a puddle next to your temples, as you let it run down the side of your lips.

You’re going crazy.

So high off the overstimulation of his face buried deep in your leaking pussy, that you swear…. you swear, you can feel your brain getting mushy. So mushy that if you shook your head hard enough, it could probably come spilling out through your ears.

He’s speaking into your pussy, saying words and mumbling something out loud. But you can’t hear it. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, and feel the way he shakes his face side to side, while his tongue is plugged in your cunt.

Feel the way his hands grip your thighs so tight, that the blunt tip of his nails dig deep into your skin. You can already imagine the bruising and crescent little puncture marks it’ll leave on your legs.

It’s all so sloppy. Your pleas and cries for mercy, getting lost in the little squeals of ‘yes!’ and ‘simon!’ you can’t help but let out. And he eats it up, kissing your heated pelvis while burying three fingers inside of you.

“There’s my good girl, y’sound so pretty” He goes back to focusing his attention on your sore clit, giving it an open mouthed kiss before he continues speaking to you.

“Wanna hear my girl tell me who’s making her feel good. Hm? Lemme hear it. Say who it is, that can make you sing your little heart out.”

You make some unintelligible garbles, and Simon chuckles at your quivering and hiccuping. He squeezes your thighs encouragingly and smacks the side of them twice.

“Big words, baby. You’re a big girl, so tell me… who’s making you feel good right now?”

“It’s…” You swallow thickly and sniffle, slowly losing your train of thought as he suctions his lips around your swollen pearl. “It’s— ohhh, ‘mmm my goddd. It’s you…”

You start to gather some of your discombobulated brain cells to form a complete sentence. Simon’s name sits on your tongue, and you’re ready to tell him, it’s him. Simon. It’s Simon.

Until he pulls his head back with your clit between his lips— taking it with him, and letting it go with a loud pop!

It’s not Simon.

“Oooohhh g-god. It’s you! ‘Mmmy goodddd… daddy, it’s you… it’s all you, daddy.”

He pauses.

Whipping his head up to see if he really just heard what he believes you just cried out. Tapping the side of your thigh, he tries to get your attention so you can focus on his voice.

“What was that, honey? Didn’t hear you, come back to me and say it again.”

You whimper and hiccup, tears run down the side of your face and you continue whining at him.

“ ‘S you, daddy. Need you so badly, pleasseee baby. ‘M-m so close. I need it.”

Unbelievable.

He lets go of your trembling thighs. Letting the weight of his body help keep them pressed against your chest, as he crawls from up below your stomach and hovers over your face. Simon’s face is covered in your arousal. His lips glisten, and a good portion of the mask is damp and sticks to his skin.

“One more time, honey. Y’said it’s ‘daddy’ ? Hm? It’s your daddy, that’s taking good care of this pretty pussy?”

Simon’s fingers trail back down between your legs, softly shushing you as you keen at the feeling of his digits sliding back inside of you. He stares down at you, practically seeing the little stars spinning in your eyes. You weren’t in your best state of mind right now, but he’ll be damned if you tried denying that word escaping out with your cries.

“Can’t come ‘till you let me know,” You give him big, sad eyes but he shakes his head at you. “Wanna come, right? Tell. Me. Say it again, _____.”

At the use of your real, full name you quickly snap back into reality. It was like a switch, your bubbly headspace falling apart and bursting open once he rasped your name.

You did it. You really did call him daddy. It was your most taboo, and forbidden word—

But fuck it.

Today, your daddy was finally home. And you needed him to take care of you, just like he always did.

“Daddy,” you mewl out, feeling another hot sensation shooting through your spine. It was coming. You were so close. “Daddy I n-need you. ‘S you Simon, so please, pleaasee let me cum.”

His nostrils flare before he’s smacking his lips down on yours. Licking inside of your mouth, and inhaling the little moans you let out from tasting yourself on his tongue.

“Not yet, pretty little baby. Daddy hasn’t had all his fun yet.” Simon pulls away from your lips for a moment, laughing softly at the way you try to chase after his mouth for more. He uses one hand to swiftly fumble with the buckle of his belt, making quick work of pulling down his cargo pants and boxers. Laughing again when he pulls his drenched fingers out your greedy little hole, that puts up a fight to keep him deep inside your cunt.

“Must’a been treating my lil’ lady real good,” You can feel the heat of his hard, thick cock pressing onto your pelvis. Already licking your lips and grabbing onto his flexing bicep for support. “Gotta keep showing my special girls how much their daddy loves ‘em.”

He uses a free hand to guide his length to your throbbing pussy, unable to help himself from slapping the head a few times against you. His cock makes a squishy plop plop when he makes contact with your sticky folds, and teases you with a rub on your raw, swollen clit.

“Want you to remember this, once I’m done with you.”

Simon feels your nails dig into the hard meat of his bicep, bracing yourself when he finally lets the head of his cock greet your warm, welcoming insides. Already feeling the way your pussy grips around him, and makes no plans of ever letting go.

“Want you to remember what’ll happen every single time, that daddy comes home to his pretty, little princess.”

✪-tagging-✪ / : @touyyes @winterbimbwo @sirenh4ll @sailewhoremoon @noriken @kokobunn @fushisslut @dilftaroooo @aasouthteranoswife @daeneeryss @simon-rileys-princess @g4bby @sussywowzaee @lazuli-leenabride @moonshot-eclipse @mietkoz @honeybee54321 @lich1 @terrythetortoise @fuckinriley @actuallyanita @wedonttalkabouthenry @motionlessinrhi @hauntingtherosebush @spookyclowwn

(couldn’t tag y’all </3 ily tho) @benandjerrysisqueer @bleedingmagic-02 @tescomealdeals-blog @getoruii @alyssam14 @officialjotchuagirlfanclub

—♡ —SIMON SAYS … ❞

SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER

✯. !! Synopsis : so you like to play mind games with ghost? goodluck, cause hes got a few tricks of his own to beat these little charades of yours. when he comes home to remind you whos really the expert at games—simon says…your playtime is over

✯. !! WC : 8.3K

✯. !! Tags & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - hard dom!Ghost (he’s rlly mean), bratty! reader, sex tapes, masturbation (male & fem), choking/asphyxiation play, creampie, mating press, squirting, rough sex, spanking, subtle sir kink, size kink/difference, degradation, manhandling, orgasm denial, praise/petname usage, dumbification, dirty talk, (maybe?) prey and predator play, the mask stays ON. <3

✯. !! A/N : first fic and guess what, i wrote with my pussy on this one. hope you enjoy !! lmk what y’all think <33

Maybe this wasn’t your smartest choice in life.

Whether it’s the sobering reality of sitting in the after-guilt of praying for negativity, or a complete backfire that could’ve made things entirely worse—most times, an action made purely from spite and pettiness, never ends up well.

This was one of those times.

Where guilt and the possibility of a backfire merged into one—a single, enormous, dark mass of gut bubbling anxiety.

You were given very, very simple instructions only a few days prior to this moment. And yet, all because your last few messages to your boyfriend were being left unanswered and open on seen, your willingness to take matters into your own hands—to finally get his attention, brought you more than you bargained for.

You had no idea what was truly in store for you once you decided to misbehave and break one of his very simple rules.

Weiterlesen

TRAINED OUT

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Captain John price x Keegan P Russ x "Soap" MacTavish x Konig x Female reader

cw: this all consensual, running a train, creampie, tit fucking, blowjobs, choking, hair pulling, blood kink, rough sex, cervix kissing, awkward sex positions that took me too long to figure out how to write, Dacryphilia, cum drinking, cumming on body, just really messy sex, porn without plot, consented recording, anal fingering, anal sex with prep, vaginal sex, pussy slapping

author's note : thank you for 100+ followers, enjoy this mess of a post while I push myself into exam week. post will be more distant cause of exam week

TAGLIST (just ask to be added!!) : @antishadow2021 @banana-gurl20-blog

MALE VERSION ! . . . .

The camera light flickered as Keegan held the phone, the light flashing red showing that it was recording as you looked up at the camera and looked away nervously. When Soap mentioned something about a train, you didn’t think it would be this many people. 

You held your finger up and counted..Ghost, Keegan, Soap and Konig. Price was briefly mentioned but you didn’t know how much you could take before he could get to you. 

Alright..Soap turned his back to you and held a smile as you nervously smiled back and did a stiff wave as cleared his throat. “You’ve got a long way ahead of you, but before we get to it.” He paused.

 “Are you clean? Like any STD’s orr” chiming in before he could finish “If I had an STD, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have agreed. That’d be cruel and evil.” He only nodded at your response “Anyways, who do you want to go first?” You haven’t thought of that yet, Keegan only held on the phone and kept it rolling.

He seemed uneasy but calm, his icy blue eyes burning into yours as you broke eye contact with him and looked at your options. “Keegan.” He clutched onto the phone with a tight grip as he tensed up and relaxed, trying to keep his composure. “Alright then.” 

He out stretched his arm  as Keegan walked up to him and placed the phone  in his hand. It honestly made you wonder what would people think if this is what the Task 141 does in their freetime, “training”. 

 Keegan literally had no fucking idea how he got convinced to do this, this is something he’d think about and immediately say “nope” or “pass”.  He had experience it’s just he felt vulnerable in this situation, this felt way more than intimate and he couldn’t put his finger on this feeling.

“Say..instead of 1 person, how about you pick one more Name.” Soap spoke as you chuckled and pointed without even thinking “Ghost.” He was expecting to be last if he was honest with himself but that quite surprised him. Ghost and Keegan sat on the bed as you sandwiched yourself between the two big men as you felt smaller. 

They were both insanely strong and good looking, your breathing was heavy as you looked around. Keegan shoved what little bit of dignity he had inside him and kissed you as you submitted in the kiss. Ghost hands snaking around your waist as the skull part of his mask dug into your skin as he rested on your shoulder, he wasn’t going to lift his mask in front of all these people.

Now if it was you, it would be completely different. But he still did it anyway as he placed kisses on your neck as you mewled out. He nibbed and dragged his teeth from the atlas of your neck to your collarbone, repeating the motion as he bit down harder and harder each time. 

Each time, it would strike moans out of you as Keegan’s tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth, tongues meshing with each other while your vision doubled, the feeling of you being disassociated from your body had you pushing yourself into the men. 

The feeling of your blood trickling your neck along with the feeling of Ghost’s warm tongue licking up the evidence as you pulled away from Keegan to breathe. As they both looked at you, pupils blown with lust, hair in a different state than a few minutes ago. 

You were completely out of it and they were too as Ghost raised his head from your shoulder and smirked as your blood was at the corner of his mouth, the metallic smell held a trance over you. Keegan helped you lay back as your head laid over the edge of the bed and your bottoms were pulled off as well as your garments, the room was actually colder than you thought it was as the coolness washed over your warm pussy.

Keegan's hands trailed down your waist and over your mound to your wet folds while Ghost was focused on the belt of his pants, he really should have taken all these unnecessary belts off just like when he took his gear off before getting here. Freeing himself from the decades worth of belts, he pulls his pants down as you can see bulge in his boxers as you almost salivate at the sight.

Your other partner on the other hand is already heavy against your folds, rubbing up and down against your cunt as he smears your juices over his heavy cock. Ghost pulls his boxers down and takes his cock out and strokes it as he smirks “Open wide, pretty girl..” he coos as you open your mouth and he slowly pulls into your mouth as you take every inch.

He’s still pushing into your mouth until he pushes through the tight squeeze and settles inside your throat while you’re to the base of his cock. Face against his shaved pelvis , as Ghost holds a taunting smirk on his face “pretty slut taking what’s giving to her..” he says under his breath, Keegan is more busy thrusting into your cunt as he pushes inside and you jolt forward. 

Choking on Ghost’s cock as he groans out at the feeling, they both thrust at the same time but not the same pace. Ghost is calling you a bitch,whore while also keeping it warm while Keegan is grunting and pulsing inside you as he cusses and whines about how tight you are. 

The roughness and whininess from them has your head spinning. You can only take what your given while Ghost fucks your throat throughly, your pretty sure you have a bulge in your throat from Ghost big size while he fucks your face at a pace, you’re not sure how he’s lasting so long at. 

It doesn’t help how Keegan is fucking you and hitting your sweet spots along with your cervix while flicking your clit and pressing down on it, even applying a slap to it as your eyes are watering and your letting out choked sobs and moans. Konig and Price watch closely as you get your holes stuffed and fucked, the pushing back and fourth from the men cause of their harsh unwavering paces. 

No signs of stopping as Keegan can sweat drip down his back and the side of his forehead as he can feel his cock about to explode, as he edges himself to keep going as that doesn’t go as planned as he pulls out and cums all over your cunt, you moan around Ghost’s cock as he’s still fighting his own denied orgasm. 

He holds you close and paints your throat white, the warm fluid filling your mouth as you gulp it down as it’s the best you’ve ever had. He pulls out of your mouth as some cum drips out and onto the floor as you pant out and the men collect their clothing and move out the way.

 “Hm, you lasted longer than I expected,” Soap muttered out. “Guess it our turn Konig” Soap passes the camera back to Keegan. Konig uncrosses his arm and stops leaning on the wall as Soap and Konig walk up to you as you sit up. 

Soap took off his shirt and completely stripped himself but his boxer as he laid down “Come here Name”. 

Soap says as you move over to her and he grabs you by your hips and helps you into a kneeling position as he has you spread your legs a bit more, you help him get his boxers off and he lets out a light hearted laugh “eager, aren't we?” he teased as you rolled your eyes and examined his girth and size.

Not as thick as Ghost or Keegan but he made up for it with his length, “C..Can I?” you breathe out and “Course you can darling.” you slowly sink your pussy down on his cock as he moans out, slapping your ass as you yelp. 

“Fuck, you are tight!” Soap says as you hit the base of him as you feel Konig’s warm hands on your ass as he’s pouring lube on your puckering hole and circling it. Sinking his fingers into it as you focus on the two mixed pleasures as you feel like you’re gonna go cross eyed soon.

Once Konig deems you’re prepared enough, his cock is at your hole. He only says one thing before pushing into you “I hope you’re for this.” The bass and growl in his body has your body shaking as he pushes inside as you dip your nails into Soap’s chest, The way they’re both deep inside of you just like the previous two has you wondering how they don’t have partners. 

They don’t go in Unison like Keegan and Ghost would, they’re fucking brutual. Both moving at fast pace that has you slapping against the base of Soap with loud noises as Konig slaps your ass and holds onto it while fucking into you and Soap is just thrusting into you with a fucking rough pace as he keeps kissing your spots. 

You could pass out from all this if you really wanted to, but you didn’t want too, Konig grabbed you by the Neck and held onto your neck as you choked out a moan as he turned your head to kiss him, while he thrusted into you and Soap gave a few harsh thrusts that had you bouncing upward. The recording was going for a while but they kept at it, you didn’t think you’d get creampied by both Konig and Soap but they blew inside of you with loud cursing as Konig held you by your neck with a low growl while Soap was completely out of it.

The room was reeked of sex, cum and sweat. But hey it bought you guys all together in the end as you laid on the bed and your chest heaved up and down. Soap was of course gonna take care of you as this was his silly little idea as he held a rag and helped clean off the cum while Ghost helped you with clothes and Konig helped with your hair and Keegan gave you words of praise. This was definitely going in your diary as the best moment of your fucking life.

* BONUS !! Price <33

While everyone went with Soap to get you things to help clean up the door opened and Price walked in and smiled down at you. “Well, looks like you had fun” you chuckled and sat up. “You could say that”. “Do you mind if I?” he lifted his hands defensively and you clicked your tongue “I don’t mind, in fact I welcome it” bringing a smile to his face. 

He walked up to you and unzipped his pants, pulling his boxers down along with his pants and laying his cock against the soft of your breast. You squished them as he nestled between them and sighed out “Ready?” Price said and you made eye contact with him “Ready than I’II ever be.” He thrusted between your boobs with a rough pace as the tip kissed your lips as you snuck your tongue and applied a kitten lick to the head as he bit his lip.

“Fuck..Do that again” he said as you repeated the kitten licks to his head before taking the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it and licking in the slit while he thrust between your soft breast as he gasped and grunted as he rutted against your mouth to take more of his cock.

He was pulsing as you could feel how much warmer his cock was as he pulled away and came on your tits, opening your mouth as some hit your tongue and face. “You’re fuckin messy, but I love my girls messy” Price said before the door opened to the others returning back.

“Looks like Price is here” Soap says “How about a round 2 but with price?” “sounds like a plan.”

Truth or Dare?

I have no idea of this is good or not lmfao I wrote some of it drunk, so if it doesn’t make sense I’m sorry!

Warnings - 18+ minors DNI, p in v, p in a, threesome, dp, (I tried some mlm I’m not very good), f/m/m, smut, porn basically

This is probably horrendous lmfao but I wish this was me. Comments and feedback welcome, thank you all so much for all the love on the other posts 🥰

‘… and that’s why our national animal is the best.’ Soap said proudly. Furrowing your brows in disgust you looked at him ‘um I think the fuck not Soap. Have you not seen ours? We’ve got a fukin’ DRAGON?!’ Soap tried to interject but you cut him off ‘a huge ass dragon to your tiny unicorn? Not to mention the dragon is literally on our flag. Sorry you lose, take a shot.’ Scowling at you Soap downed his shot of whiskey.

This was how you spent time in between missions, playing stupid games and getting drunk. Tonight’s agenda was stupid little power point presentations on who had the best national animal, Scotland vs Wales. Celt vs Celt. A competition you and Soap took very seriously. That was until Ghost decided to pipe up ‘well we have a lion, AND it’s real? So clearly I win.’

You and Soap spun your heads around in unison to look at him. ‘Get tae fuck Ghost’ Soap laughed. Eyeing Ghost you gave him the filthiest side eye imaginable ‘now I know you didn’t just pipe up after being quiet all evening’ you said dryly. ‘For that absolute tomfoolery you can have a shot too, get over here Lieutenant.’ You beckoned Ghost over with your index finger as you poured him a whiskey.

You were already bordering the point of tipsy and drunk, feeling quite merry and pleased with yourself. Soap was very much the same, he wasn’t quite slurring his words but his accent was getting much harder to understand. Though both of you talked pretty fast due to your accents, Ghost had a hard time keeping up with you both after a drink. Running your hand through your hair you felt the rush of the alcohol run through you. ‘Now gentleman, what game next?’

‘Truth or dare’ Soap suggested. Slapping his arm you laughed ‘are you high? You just want to play that to be a pervert and get me to kiss you. I know your type McTavish’ you snorted. He looked over at you with a glint in his eye ‘well yeah, that’s the only reason anyone ever plays that game.’ Refilling your glass you rolled your eyes, ‘fine, ask away.’

Soap started off ‘truth.’

‘Hmmmm … have you ever felt remorse for the people you’ve killed?’

‘Christ, startin off deep. No, I don’t think I have, can’t let that get in the way of the mission. I switch it off.’

Nodding you sipped at your whiskey, ‘ok truth’ you asked.

‘Have you ever found anyone you’ve been in service with attractive?’

‘Nosey aren’t you’ you smiled, ‘yeah I have actually.’

Soaps ears pricked up and he shifted closer to you on the bench. ‘Oh? And who is it?’

You tapped your nose lightly, ‘it’s a secret.’

Ghost rolled his eyes and excused himself, last thing he wanted to do was to be the third wheel.

Feeling more confident from the booze you glanced at Soaps lips as you licked yours. Your head was swimming as your limbs felt weightless. ‘Truth’ asked Soap. Shifting closer to him you placed you glass down on the table and leant in ‘would you kiss me?’ You said biting your bottom lip. Slowly Soap lent in to meet your lips, he gently placed his on yours as he moved his hand up your thigh. You slowly opened your mouth and deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue with your own. He let out a deep groan ‘you’re a fuckin tease girl.’ You smiled into his lips as you teased him again, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth giving it a nip.

His hand travelled up your thigh giving it a firm squeeze, as the other hand cupped your jaw. You placed your hand on the back of his head, raking your nails against the exposed skin. Your tongues weaved in and out of each others, you could feel yourself getting breathless. Pulling away you bit your lip ‘mmmm fuck’ you moaned. Grabbing his hand you stood up ‘come with me.’

You ran down the empty hallway to the sleeping quarters, footsteps echoing along the way. Most of the team had gone out for the night, leaving you, Soap and Ghost alone in the building. Speaking of, where was he?

You both fell into the bedroom, the orange glow from the hall lights dimly illuminating the room. There is the corner was Ghost, appearing asleep. You placed a finger over Soaps lips signalling him to keep quiet, and pointed over to the sleeping silhouette. Soap nodded before encasing you in his arms, you cupped his face reigniting the kiss. Soap sat on the bed, it creaked underneath his weight. As you climbed on top of him he bit his lip and let out a shaky breath.

Soaps hands trailed all over your body, leaving a burning sensation in his wake. Your skin tingled at his touch, the feel of his skin on yours was a high you never wanted to come down from. You removed your top and flung it over the other side of the room. He kissed along your collar bone as you hovered above him, nipping ever so gently. You snaked your hand underneath his top, feeling his toned stomach as you dug your nails in. His hands made their way to your breasts, massaging them beneath his hands. A small moan danced on your lips as he tweaked your nipple between his fingers.

You knelt up onto your heels, Soap completely at your mercy beneath you. The dim orange light bounced off his blue eyes, pure lust deep within them. As you sat looking at each other you heard a creak from the other side of the room. Looking up you saw Ghost sat on the edge of his bed, the white skull detail of his mask emerging from the darkness. You undid your bra freeing your breasts, all the while staring back at Ghost. Dragging your hands up your body, you pushed your breasts together letting them fall tantalisingly slow.

Still keeping your eyes firmly on Ghost, you used your hand to grip Soaps face, ‘open your fucking mouth John’ you commanded.

He opened his mouth and you slowly let a ribbon of spit fall into his mouth. Soap let out a whimper beneath you, eyes wide with adoration as he looked up at you. ‘Mmmm we have company’ you purred and raised an eyebrow. ‘Let him watch’ he mumbled, too busy letting his hand roam over your body. ‘He looks lonely, let’s fix that’ you whispered as you motioned for Ghost to join you.

Ghost slowly walked over to the bed and stood behind you, his intimidating frame closing you in. Soap continued to look up at you in awe, as Ghost slid his hand around your neck. He tiled your chin, so your head was leaning in his shoulder. He leant in, his mask still covering his face. His breath washed over your face, as the dull orange glow bounced off his dark glazed eyes. ‘Mask, Simon’ you ordered. He lifted his mask just above his lips, revealing them to you. ‘Better’ you whispered against his lips.

You hovered against his lips as he wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer into him. You sank down lower onto Soaps hard cock, as he began grinding against you. You moaned into Ghosts mouth as his grip tightened on your neck. ‘She looks beautiful like this’ Soap drawled, ‘would look even better with my cock inside her.’ Soap reached up and started to undo your trousers as Ghost grasped at your breasts.

Breaking the kiss you quickly took off your trousers and unbuttoned Soaps, pulling them down slightly. You pawed at his cock in his boxers as he gritted his teeth with pure pleasure. Ghost ran his hand up your back causing a shiver to run through you. Freeing his cock you took it in your hand slowly pumped it, feeling how hard he was for you. You ran your tongue up the shaft to the tip, keeping your eyes on Soap the whole time. You took him into your mouth, as he let out a whimper beneath his breath.

As you got into a rhythm you felt Ghost run his hand over your ass, sighing to himself. ‘She’s so fuckin’ wet Soap, so … fuckin’ … wet.’ He began to slowly trace his fingers over your slit, before he inserted a finger. You hummed against Soaps cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout him. Ghost slowly inserted another finger, the sound of your arousal filled the empty room. He lowered his face planting gentle kisses on your thighs, your back, your ass. ‘Bite me … please’ you begged, without hesitation he sank his teeth into your flesh.

Soap stroked your head and lifted your chin, ‘I wanna see you fuck him, while I take that ass of yours.’ Ghost removed his fingers, making you feel suddenly empty ‘I like the sound of that’ he replied. As they switched positions, you straddled Ghost this time and Soap took his position behind you. Slowly you sank onto Ghosts hard cock, his thickness stretching your wet pussy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bottomed out. ‘She feels so fuckin’ good’ he groaned.

Soap pushed you forwards onto all fours, your forearms either side of Ghosts head. He began kissing your ass, just like Ghost did. Worshipping every inch of your body. He slowly started licking at your ass hole, the sensitive skin quivered at his touch. He gently massaged it with his thumb, before gradually inserting it. Resting your forehead on Ghost’s breathy moans escaped you as he whispered words of encouragement to you. ‘That’s it … you’re such a good girl … fuck you’re doin’ so well.’

Ghosts pace was gentle as he rocked in and out of your dripping cunt. He felt so good filling you with his cock. ‘Are you ready darlin’?’ Soap asked gently. Already feeling pretty cock drunk you managed to whisper a small ‘yes’ to Soap. He spread your cheeks before spitting on your hole, he lined himself up and slowly, very slowly began to push himself into you.

A sharp moan fell off your lips, Ghost had stopped moving to allow you to adjust to Soap entering you. Sweat built on your brow, small pieces of your hair sticking to the damp skin. ‘Fuck, I can’t … I can’t do it’ you panted into Ghosts mouth. He caressed your face, wiping the hair away from your eyes. ‘Shhh’ he cooed ‘you’re so well for us, you can do it. Atta girl … such a good fucking girl.’ You squeezed your eyes closed, the line between pain and pleasure had never been to blurred.

Soap started moving, in and out, in and out, cautiously building his own rhythm. ‘Tell me when I can move’ Ghost asked while cradling your cheeks. You nodded, as you grew accustomed to Soaps size. They both began moving in opposite rhythms, both muttering praise to you under their breaths. You buried your head into Ghosts neck, nipping on his ear lobe breathing in his moans of pleasure.

You felt Soaps body press against you, the movements slowing. As you turned your head you could see Soap softly place his lips on Ghosts. Ghosts eyes widened but he didn’t stop the kiss, he opened his mouth welcoming in Soaps tongue. Their jaws moved in tandem with one another, you nibbled on Ghosts neck before whispering in his ear ‘that looks so good Simon, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.’

As they carried on exploring one another’s mouths they began slowly moving again. You snaked your hand down to your clit, using your juices to coat it. Rubbing small circles you let you’re pleasure build, your breathing got heavier, your chest becoming tight. You felt so full having two cocks working your cunt and ass, it was blissful. Your walls began to tighten as the pressure intensified, ‘fuck I’m gonna come, harder … harder’ you panted. Both men upped their pace, their own breath filled moans becoming louder.

You were completely at their mercy, completely powerless in between them as they ravaged you. Sweat dripped from your forehead onto Ghosts chest, he placed his lips on yours as he bit your bottom lip. Soap gripped your hips as he thrusted into you, incoherent mutters left his mouth.

‘Cum for me’ Ghost whisperer at he gripped your jaw ‘cum all over my cock, I wanna feel your cunt around me.’ His thumb slowly but firmly tugged at your bottom lip as you nipped at it. ‘Please Simon … please make me cum.’ You rocked your hips back into Soap as you peeked over your shoulder at him. ‘Fuck, John.’ You moaned through your teeth.

The pressure in your pussy was becoming unbearable, with one final thrust you came around Ghosts cock. Ghost held your throat as you stared into his eyes, moaning their names. ‘So fuckin beautiful’ he murmured. You collapsed onto his chest in a heap, completely breathless.

Soap pulled out, groaning at he did so, ‘am so close darlin, where do you want it?’ You rolled off Ghost so you led on your back and gestured to your body. They stood over you, both of their eyes hooded as they took you in beneath them. Spread out on the cot, glowing from your orgasm and beads of sweat fell around your breasts. Panting you smirked at them ‘finish each other off, I want to see.’

Nodding they gripped each others cocks and pumped them until they were on the being of orgasm. Ghosts large hand wrapped about Soaps cock, his forearms tensed at the unusual feeling of another’s man’s cock in his hand. Soap began panting ‘you done this before sir?’ He smirked. Furrowing his brows he began chasing his high ‘shhhhhhut the fuck up McTavish.’

‘Doesn’t she look stunning’ Soap asked, his mouth gradually opened, his breath hitched in his thirst as he came. His cum landed in pile on your stomach as you grinned up at him.

Ghost decided he couldn’t take anymore and threw your legs back before thrusting back into your pussy. Taken aback by the sudden intrusion you let out a deep moan. The feel of your cunt around his cock was all he needed, he held onto your ankle as he filled you. Unable to speak he could only moan breathlessly as you pulled him back on top of you by his jumper. He kissed your forehead gently before sighing contently.

You heard the shower turn on in the background, looking around you saw Soap was no where to be seen. ‘I’ve wanted this for a long time’ Ghost purred. Smiling back up at him you cupped his face and planted a tender kiss on his lips ‘me too.’

Anything V (König x Reader)

The 5th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Like the characters? 

Sunshine Masterlist  || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: Ya’ll are in for a treat with this series. I just figured out the plot like 10 minutes ago hahaha

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension 

Warning: Graphic Language 

You glared at the woman before you, fury simmering beneath your skin. You felt like you were on fire, you felt like you could commit heinous crimes- you knew that you could kill them.

“I understand that you may feel like this isn’t needed,” the stupid fuck soothed. “But therapy is a proven solution. I can help get you back up and running.” 

Therapy. 

Your fingers dug into the armrests.

“They told me this was training.” You were chewing on the words, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Deep down you’d known that this was coming, you’d declined ‘help’ after the initial incident but now there was no hiding the darkness that plagued your mind. Everyone had seen it. 

Weiterlesen

⇝ MÉNAGE .

Simon makes the mistake of spending the night before one of the longest missions of his career in the arms of a woman he met at a pub, unaware of the consequences it would have on his life moving forward.

CW: Unplanned pregnancy, angst, smut, fluff, dad!Simon.

STATUS: ongoing!

Also on Ao3!

If you want to be tagged on future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account! — @lilynottaken !

— CHAPTERS:

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

I ; Midnight ; [ 10.1k words ]

II ; Shadow ; [ 10k words ]

III ; Together ; [ 9.2k words ]

IV ; Refuge ; [ 11.2k words ]

V ; Resolution ; [ 8.4k words ]

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

— BLURBS + BRAINROT:

Brainrot tag !

How Simon would act if reader and Tommy got sick. ; [ Set after chapter 4! ]

How Simon would react to reader getting a text from her ex. ; [ Set after chapter 4! ]

How Simon would react to reader getting a boyfriend. ; [ Set after chapter 4! ]

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

— EXTRA:

Tommy's age across the chapters!

(Late) WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @cloudofbutterflies92

Sorry it took a while to get around doing this! Thanks for tagging me!

(I need to continue working on this, but this is from a little fic idea where Ghost offered to take Doe to an orthologist appointment)

—

Ghost sighed.

‘Of course…’

He knew Doe can be stubborn at times when it came to needing assistance, being physically disabled and all. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was incapable of doing anything with one arm, it was never like that.

He just hated that she continued to solely depend on herself for everything since day one.

Then again, he was rather impressed with how far she had come with such a setback.

Ghost looked back up at the old brick building, amazed by the fact she was able to restore such an old building and turn it into something inhabitable for herself. Too bad he knew how she got the money for it; but he understood why she didn’t like explaining it.

Ghost eventually saw movement at the oak doors and could see Doe leave her house and shot a brow up watching her close and lock her door, all with one hand.

✨Fic Links✨

Everything I write is +18, in third person, and using she/her pronouns. I do take requests that differ from that, so let me know if you've got any!

COD MEN

- König & Ghost Saccharine and Sugar - Price The World Is Filthy and So Am I - Soap (coming soon)

MIGUEL O'HARA

- Does Your Father Know No powers DBF AU - The Red Means I Love You Canon Compliant

ASTARION & HALSIN

- Before the First Light Post-Game w. Spawn

FINAN

- Hold Me like Water Canon Compliant

BUCKY BARNES

- One Shots - Arcadian Killing Canon Divergence AU - Angelsong No Deaths AU - Blurred Boundaries Biker AU - Gunslinger's Elegy Future Bounty Hunter AU - Hello Sunshine 1970s & no powers AU

« ⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑ »

LITERALLY THE KÖNIG FICS! (Anyone know any writers?😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻)

When you run out of fics to read

HOLY SHIT-- IM GOING FERAL!!! I just binged this entire thing and honestly all I'm thinking is I don't care how ugly this bastard is, I WANT HIM TO ABSOLUTELY DEMOLISH MY BACK, FUCK ME TILL I CANT WALK SIR.

PLEASE SIR

Sick <3

Zombie!Ghost x Survivor You ☢️🖤

Part 7: Ghost goes hunting. You both cross a line…oral M2F, he’s very dead, but so are you without him…

When you struggle downstairs, there’s a little bunch of wild flowers on the table. Blue and white, they looks so pretty, sat in a small vase.

“Oh you didn’t have to do that!”

You’re vaguely embarrassed about your clinginess. After all, Ghost has it worse. He’s dead and you’re still alive, what have you got to complain about realistically.

His white, clouded eyes alight on your smiling face, watching the happiness in your gaze as you take in his small gift. God it just makes him wild, how vividly perfect you are, all bright cheer and warm smiles.

Si’s voice coughs in his head, encouraging him to respond normally. Or as normally as possible.

So he grunts, spreading his long fingers over the table top, in what he hopes is a casual gesture.

You start to look through the cupboards. Most of it is out of date, but you manage to find a tin of beans hidden away in a dark corner.

Beans are not your favourite, but it is what it is.

Ghost watches you eating them out of the can with a spoon. You’ll need supplies, if you’re going to stay here. He huffs to get your attention, then stands up.

“Where are you going?” You ask him, through a mouth full of sickly tomato sauce.

Ghost tilts his head, like he wants to ask you to stop being so nosey, then trudges out at his odd rolling pace.

“When you get back you need a bath!” You shout at him, watching his departing shoulders roll with indignation.

After almost an entire day to yourself, you start to get restless. You feel slightly exposed without Ghost at your side, even though he doesn’t talk. You’ve been through so much together in the short time since you met.

When he finally rocks up, looking like a packhorse with various scrounged items of long life food and materials, you fight the urge to give him a hug.

There’s an odd moment between you, where you get halfway to flinging your arms around him and he awkwardly drifts closer. Then you pretend you were just going to help him with the goods.

Ghost presents you with a box of English teabags, like they’re a treasure, then settles down to look at an ancient map. It’s so old, the corners are yellow, he’s obviously stolen it from a picture frame somewhere.

Later, you wake to find the bed empty.

You’re dripping with slick, cunt aching. Since your nasty bite, it’s happened almost every night.

You’ve been having rabid dreams. Mainly centring around the man who’s now become central to your life. Even in your sleeping mind he’s cold, but it doesn’t scare you.

Quite the opposite.

Ghost sticks to you so closely most of the time, you might not get another chance in the near future.

Carefully, you move your shorts down and slip one hand under your panties. God it feels good, slow fingers massaging your swollen clit, cream leaking over your thighs.

You arch slightly off the bed, squirming under your own touch. Your knees drift apart, allowing more access, as you dip into your honeyed centre.

A tiny moan escapes your lips.

Ghost, in the woods behind the house, hears it.

Suddenly he’s out of control entirely, almost as badly as when he first turned. Every sinew is crying out, a clamouring chorus of want.

So much desire it’s painful, raking through his nearly empty veins and crippling any coherent thought.

Saliva starts to drop onto his tactical vest, fuelled by the smell of your dripping sex carried on the evening air.

Si’s voice is lost under the sound of your fingers touching that hot core. Without hesitation, his feet are carrying him back to the house, and there’s no way on earth he can stop them.

It’s carnal, his need to touch you, feel your wetness on his blue tinged fingers. His limp jaw lets groans and growls sputter freely from his throat.

He’s up the stairs and standing in your doorway in seconds. The heady smell of you is so potent, it feels like it’s scorching his icy skin.

You’re spread out so pretty, glistening as your hands work furiously.

Ghost’s shadow falls over the bed, utterly transfixed by the sight of you pleasuring yourself.

“Get out!” You shout at him, closing your legs and wriggling backwards. Your cheeks are glowing with embarrassment, as you chuck pillows at his frozen form.

But Ghost lets out a snarl unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, wrenching your knees apart and inhaling, like he’s taking his first breath after almost drowning.

His empty lungs expand with the scent of you. You try and kick him in the face, but he’s way too quick. Dragging your struggling form close to him.

“Stop it!” You whine, as the friction of the sheets beneath you rubs against your leaking pussy.

Eyes glassy, he holds you tight, jaw moving violently.

“Please!” The word is half formed, dry and hard forced out of his drooling mouth, not helped by his fractured face.

It’s frighteningly coherent though, a plea. His body is pulsing with electricity and you can feel it zapping against your skin. Something, very deep inside you, calls out to him on an unfamiliar level.

You stop struggling. Each of you just staring at the other.

“Please.” He begs again. “Please!”

He looks feral, more inhuman than ever, snow coloured eyes wild. But you don’t care. Your brain right now only wants one thing.

Him.

Heart pounding violently, you spread your legs.

Ghost, Si and the virus, all force him onto his knees in front of you, hands pressed into the mattress as his tongue darts out.

He starts to lap at you, drinking your nectar with savage energy. You squirm and writhe, as his chilled breath sends you hurtling towards an orgasm.

A cool drink on a hot day, his mouth calms the raging ache you’ve been dealing with for days.

Simon can’t remember the last time he ate pussy, but there’s no way on earth it was like this. It satisfies him, in a way that nothing else can or ever will. Even the tang of blood loses its lustre in comparison to your sweet surrender.

You’re panting, hands moving to his head to touch some part of him and ground yourself. Messily he circles your bud, flicking and kissing it until you can barely see straight.

As your fingertips caress his scalp, Ghost moans throatily, like he’s never felt anything like it. So you do it again, until the vibration of his voice snaps the tight coil building in your stomach.

When you cry out under his broken mouth, you gush. It’s like the most potent drug. Ghosts fingers drag through your folds, making you gasp with the chilling sensation of his pulseless digits.

“Please.” He slurs over and over again between your legs, revelling in the fact he can say a word. His broad tongue moves inside you, a stream of spit and your first release making the bed covers damp.

Ghosts hands press your own around his face, willing you to keep touching him. So soft and gentle, you feel the harsh line of what must have once been a strong jaw.

Feet resting on his back, he pulls more orgasms from your trembling body, inhaling them and savouring every whimper leaving your mouth.

He only stops eating you out, when you start to sob in earnest. So overstimulated it’s painful. The sound of your weeping, is like a brisk slap in the face.

Gradually Si’s voice starts battling through the lustful roar of the virus.

Shit.

You’ve both crossed a line, that can never be stepped back from.

Tags: @ashy-kit @cutiecusp @deadmarygolds @redbleedingrose @dustycrusty09 @darkangel4121 @smexysarah @cmbghost @silly-norman @sigrid666 @pxssygxblin @spicyspicyliving @itsyaboinoah-blog @misshugs @murder-hobo @sobbingnshtting

Not to force my music down your throats but this song is in my top ten forever

I just realized this is literally just Simon Riley. Now I'm thinking about Roman soldier/gladiator Simon Riley, affectionately called ghost, meeting a beautiful woman, you, and then it proceeds to jaw dropping, feral, dirty sex. Then you become his pretty pretty wife. 😚😚🤭🤭🤭

Went to the Midwest horse fair and saw some cool horses, but most of all I found the sexiest man alive 🥵

I tried to get good pictures but they weren't the best, but like my God, he's so fucking hot.

Mask link go brrrrr 😩😩😩

Am I gonna have to write cod fanfiction now??? 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤭🤭🤭 let me what you guys think

Went to the Midwest horse fair and saw some cool horses, but most of all I found the sexiest man alive 🥵

I tried to get good pictures but they weren't the best, but like my God, he's so fucking hot.

Mask link go brrrrr 😩😩😩

Hey yall in the COD fandom.🤭🤭..if any of yall are artists could someone possibly uh.. either make orrr link some art that would be good to use for a lil uh... body pillow that would be great, 👀👀👀my requests are price and ghost and konig. ❤️❤️🥺🥺🥺

(Please no like full nudity, I still live with my parents yall, I don't need em to like question my sanity.)💀💀💀🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Shirtless is fine but keep them undies on!! 👀👀Also ghost better keep his mask on for both sides same with konig.. so um if yall need some like compensation I could write yall a lil sum sum👀👀, or I could even draw yall something! 🦖😶(I just don't got no money for yall and I'm starving for some body pillows cause they lacking in that department.🧍‍♀️)

(PS it would only be used for personal use, I promise I won't use it for monetary gains)😚😚😚

Either dm me or tag me if you do it! Or reblog this with it attached. I'm actually sobbing because there's like nothing good for any of the characters I want and I'm so sad rn

Hey yall in the COD fandom.🤭🤭..if any of yall are artists could someone possibly uh.. either make orrr link some art that would be good to use for a lil uh... body pillow that would be great, 👀👀👀my requests are price and ghost and konig. ❤️❤️🥺🥺🥺

(Please no like full nudity, I still live with my parents yall, I don't need em to like question my sanity.)💀💀💀🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Shirtless is fine but keep them undies on!! 👀👀Also ghost better keep his mask on for both sides same with konig.. so um if yall need some like compensation I could write yall a lil sum sum👀👀, or I could even draw yall something! 🦖😶(I just don't got no money for yall and I'm starving for some body pillows cause they lacking in that department.🧍‍♀️)

(PS it would only be used for personal use, I promise I won't use it for monetary gains)😚😚😚

Either dm me or tag me if you do it! Or reblog this with it attached. I'm actually sobbing because there's like nothing good for any of the characters I want and I'm so sad rn

part 4 of regency era!ghost x f!reader

the castle’s frivolous chatter sometimes bores you. other times, it keeps you entertained when you need a distraction. and other days, you’re hardly surprised by the whispers that flitter like butterflies just barely out of your peripheral.

“she’s been seen at promenade.” you barely caught Flora’s hushed murmur. “please tell me the queen hasn’t heard yet.”

oh, you’ve heard. Lady Price spared you the headache as was quick to inform you with her letter before sunrise. you knew of her arrival long before the whole castle woke.

“i hear that Lady Price was seen atop her husband’s shoulder the other day.”

well, that part was left out of the letter you received. “oh?”

“poor thing was screeching her lungs out as he dragged her back to their estate.”

your shocked expression does nothing to restrain Ann from giggling to herself. it’s hard to find the matter amusing. such a scandalous thing to happen, surely her lord husband won’t be best pleased about the scene she caused. and who knows how he might have reacted to it.

“is she alright?” you ask.

“from what i heard, yes.” Ann replied easily, pouring a cup of tea for you and herself. “quite a spirited young woman, that one. she keeps the lord on his toes every day.”

there’s not a hint of worry in her tone. she’s not as concerned about the news as you are. perhaps not near as she should be. or perhaps you’re overreacting. Lord Price is not a man to be trifled with but he is not known to be cruel to those who don’t deserve it.

you hum more to yourself, your hands rubbing together. “perhaps i should invite her for tea and she can tell me all about it.”

it hasn’t been long since you saw your friend. you’d welcome her with open arms any time of the day if she came for a visit. it’ll distract you from the new developments in your life–

the door shoots open, drawing yours and Ann’s attention. you put the teacup back on its saucer and hold it at your lap just as Flora quickly walks in, breathing heavily. her nervous expression fills you with dread. “what’s wrong, Flora?”

“y–your majesty.” she bows, wringing a white cloth in her hands. “uh, Sir Keller is here.”

“whatever for?” you ask.

“he brings a message from the king.” she blurts out, glancing between you and Ann. “and… a–and a gift.”

ah. now you understood her terror.

you truly didn’t think the situation between you and the king would get worse. you made yourself as clear as you could and as politely as you could the other day, surely he would take the message and leave you be until your cycle forces you back to his chambers.

this?

“a… gift?” eyebrows raised, a heavy sigh leaves you when you attempt to comprehend whatever is going on. so much for having a peaceful morning.

you and Ann glance at each other, slightly fearful of whatever is to come of the day. both of them look to you, expectant. what could you do? besides face whatever the king throws at you head on, of course.

you nod. “send him in.”

for those few precious moments, you brace yourself. this gift makes you want to retreat back into a pile of linens and stay there until when you’re sure no one will come looking for you anymore.

“what do you think it is?” Ann quietly asks, popping a biscuit in her mouth.

“a giant spider, i reckon.” she stops chewing. you smirk, raising the teacup to your lips. “might jump out of the box once it’s open.”

her face pales and you nearly have to choke back a smile just as a tall knight walks into the room. he’s tall with golden strands of hair and kind blue eyes. he’s one of the few guards your husband trusts to be around him.

you wonder what this truly about. it is doubtful that the king is sending a gift and a message, there has to be something else besides that. a string attached. perhaps he requires something of you. though you wonder why he does not just come to you and say it.

either way, you steel yourself for the outcome.

“Sir Alex Keller.” you greet him, keeping your tone light but detached.

you note the box he holds under his arm, his tense posture. the expression on his face is friendly, yet you sense a touch of unease. you wonder if he’s prepared for a battle to ensue. for you to shoot the messenger and demand his head to be put on a platter.

“apologies for intruding on your day, your majesty.” he gives a courtesy bow and a tight smile.

“it’s quite alright.” you say, attempting to ease his nerves. you made a point to try not to blame him or anyone who gets caught in the crosshairs of your tumultuous marriage.

“the king sends his regards.” Alex reaches for the box and holds it out to you. “and this.”

you nod to Ann, who raises and takes the box. she brings it to you, placing it on your lap. its contents were… definitely not what you’d expected. not in this lifetime, at least.

the necklace stares back at you. delicate thing, small, the golden metal tying together lovely gemstones and pearls that gleamed under the morning light with pearl earrings to match. it’s regal. beautiful.

now what’s the string attached to it?

you kept your expression neutral. not wanting to give away your thoughts, you fear Sir Keller might say something to your husband that he might not want to hear. showing joy is not an option either. you don’t know what message that could send.

Ann clears her throat, glancing to you. reminding you to say something. she adds, “a stunning set, my queen.”

that, you cannot deny. however, that isn’t the problem.

is this the king’s way of buying your good graces? and he could not be bothered to give it to your himself, he had to send his guard as if he was thanking a guest. like he was too tied up with work to properly acknowledge you (as usual), a far cry from how strange he’s been acting the past few days.

but then…

your gaze drifts to Flora.

promenade. then the pieces fell in place.

the king’s most likely too occupied with entertaining his mistress. this… gift is just something to distract you.

you look at the note that came with the box.

For my queen. –Simon

restraining a scoff is difficult, but you manage it. men and their deluded ways of trying to hide things. did the king truly think you would believe these lies? his odd behaviour is not nearly credible to make you think he even means it, why on earth would he think gifts and notes would erase nearly four years of a dead marriage?

“is it…” Sir Keller began slowly, unsure. “to your liking, your majesty?”

there it is. there’s the string attached.

he wants to know if you’ve bought the lie.

you close the box and plaster a smile. if your husband wants to fool around with his mistress, by all means. you’ve never stopped him, nor do you even have the power to. all of this was just time consuming and unnecessary because the king could have just gone to see her without ever needing to involve you in any way like always.

“indeed.” you say with a practised tone. “do thank the king for me.”

the box is handed back to Ann, who then gives it to Flora. she stays where she is, holding it. you’re tempted to tell her to throw it out the window, but you feel that you have to wait until the only man in the room leaves.

your hands fold on your lap, gaze fixing on the guard standing from across the table. he watches you, almost as if he’s expecting something. your eyebrow raises. “is that all, Sir Keller?”

his eyes drop to his feet. you don’t know what that means and you try not to care for what might imply.

“yes, your majesty.” he says, taking one last bow. “pardon me.”

when he leaves, the silence that remained in the room was deafening. not one person knew what to say. you reach for your tea and take a sip of it while Flora puts the open box next to you.

“well, that was odd.” chimed Ann. you hummed in agreement, eyes straying to the necklace once more.

it is the first gift your husband ever gave you. and it’s not even a gift. not truly anyway. gifts aren’t meant to be used to distract wives from finding out about infidelities or trying to soften the blow of the discovery.

worse things have broken your heart a thousand times over. but this does dampen your spirits for the day.

“well, it’s definitely not a spider, thank god.” Ann continued. you can feel her watching your expression while you read the morning paper. “your favourite colour, if i’m not mistaken. and i do remember you mentioning your fondness for pearls once.”

“pity i have an abundance of jewellery. much more than i know what to do with.” there’s an uncomfortable quiet that trails your reply.

Flora asks, “what will you do it with?”

you quietly shrug, sipping your tea. “gift it to someone else, perhaps. i wish not to be reminded of the king in my own chambers.”

it doesn’t do you any good to have him tainting your only sanctuary. it is why you’re extremely thankful that he never bothered to venture into your room for any reason. the closest he’s ever come to that was when he was at your doorstep the other day.

“the invite to Lady Price.” you remind Ann, glancing to the side.

“yes. right away, your majesty.” Ann stands to make the arrangements.

the king’s presence or whatever trinkets he brings will not going to taint a perfectly good day. he can brazenly show off his mistress for all you care and whether he thinks one necklace with distract you from the fact that he’s a terrible husband is entirely his delusion.

one which you’re happy to feed into if that is what he wants if it means he'll leave you be. you don’t particularly care either way.

“tha’s it? tha’s all she said?” Soap asks, staring at Alex incredulously.

“that’s all she said.” Alex nods, downing the last of his alcohol.

the sun hasn’t reached its peak and Alex is already on his second glass. whatever happened in his chambers shot his nerves. according to him, you didn’t seem sad or angry. which would be good, but Simon has spent enough time around you to know when you’re trying to be diplomatic instead of being honest.

you aren’t happy with the gift.

the simple fact sits heavily in Simon’s gut. you might have smiled and gave the perfect answer, but you aren’t pleased. at all.

of course Simon expected this. he discreetly asked Gaz to ask around the castle for anything you liked and still expected you to throw the necklace back in his face. but this was... a passive smile, acceptance.

fuck, it’s worse than he thought.

Simon looks out the window, slowly tapping his finger against the glass. “where is she?”

“the tulips will work better with the theme.” one of your maids said.

Simon sees four women taking a stroll through the garden. one of them holds a parasol above your head, shielding you from the afternoon sun. you’re a stunning sight. you’re dressed in a cool blue dress, holding two sheets of paper. your brows furrowed in concentration as you study each of them.

“i agree.” you hummed, glancing at your handmaiden. “any word from Lady Price?”

“she’ll be visiting tomorrow morning.” she says, smiling.

Simon already wants to turn back and lock himself in his chambers but he keeps walking around a pink flower bush, revealing himself to all four women. all halt in their tracks upon seeing him.

“oh!” Ann was the most startled. she was the first to curtsey. “your majesty.”

the rest followed. Simon tenses when you stepped forward. “you majesty.”

his palms are sweaty. he can’t think of a single thing to say when he looks at you. the words escape his grasp as much as his dignity. the fabric of his mask suddenly feels too itchy and he wants to rip it off.

“were we supposed to meet today?” you asked, handing the papers to Aimee. “forgive me, i was under the impression that you were otherwise preoccupied for the day.”

he pauses for a moment, trying to remember if he has things to do as far as Simon is aware, he’s free from any obligations for the entire day. all so he could spend the day with you. or rather, near you… as much as you’d allow it.

“apologies, my queen.” he dipped his head. “i was just passing through.”

“right. of course.” all the women bowed once more before the queen began to walk whilst the rest trailed after. you lift your dress an inch up to allow your legs to move with haste.

you only halt in your tracks when he inquires, “did you get my gift?”

it is very unlikely that you’ve even kept it. but a man dares to hold a sliver of hope. that you had kept something that he had given to you. that you’re not spiteful enough to cast it aside as he did with your precious gifts.

he waits, with baited breath, as you turn around. a measured expression painted across your beautiful face. you’re careful to choose your words.

“yes.” you declared cautiously, narrowing your eyes. “it was lovely. thank you, your majesty.”

you made your way back inside the castle without so much as giving him a chance to say more. although he aches to follow, Simon feels strangely satisfied when you march forward, your annoyance radiating through the very leaves of each branch in the entire garden.

Johnny, who’d been hiding behind a tree, steps out from behind it with a half eaten apple. he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and hums, brows furrowed as he watches you leave. “preoccupied?”

yes, Simon wonders about that bit too. “thought i cleared all meetings for the day.”

“aye, ye did.” Johnny agrees. “because ye wanted tae gawk at yer wife.”

little shit. Johnny’s hypocrisy is somewhat amusing. “as if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“oh, quite the contrary. if my wife looked as pretty as that–” Simon gives him a scathing glare. Johnny’s mouth snapped shut. “just sayin’.”

the king rolls his eyes and strides away before he can hear any more nonsense from his dear friend.

preoccupied, the word seemed… odd. you know his schedule, more so to work around it and do everything in your power to avoid him.

no matter. it’s probably just a misunderstanding on your part.

[Part 5] banners by @saradika and @vase-of-lilies

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do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked. [Main Masterlist]

no thoughts head COMPLETELY empty i just can’t stop thinking of lieutenant simon “ghost” riley, who’s now also reader’s boyfriend simon “ghost” riley, fucking you soooo hard that you black out and forget his name, completely brainless and only remembering his call sign after how much he’s plowed you senselessly :(

simon riley x fem! reader

nsft ✰ creampie, brief mention of squirting, fem! anatomy, saucy to soft, honestly a lot of soft simon (man is so incredibly whipped for u) heh… this one’s been sitting in my NOTES of all things for soooo long because i might be a slag :0

when you come down from it all, from the taste of smoke and sugar and bitterness, a million other things dancing on your tongue, a blunt ringing in your ears so unmissable you’d think fireworks went off in your apartment, your blurry vision slowly begins to reveal the silhouette of your boyfriend, still hovering over you. just as sweaty and fucked out as you, if not even more.

simon. your darling, darling simon. boyfriend who just absolutely fucked your brains out for you without a shadow of a doubt. you were gone, always the desired result though after a good fucking from your love.

the weakest little whimper leaves your chapped, swollen lips when you vaguely remark his body lurching down, lower towards yours, until another, louder and more embarrassed whine also leaves you when you finally realise what he’s doing. he was going down to inspect your poor little fucked out cunt, like the sadist he so clearly was— it had become so well established by now, so long into sleeping with the man, that he always loved the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of your abused little hole. it was a primal sense of fulfilment that he’d get from it, after all. the fact that he’d marked you so well, so clearly from the inside that it was beginning to spill out, so unbelievably thick as streams of it began to mix with your own gushiness and slick gave him a feeling of accomplishment that not even blowing out the skulls of his enemies on the battlefield could compare to.

a small, soundless breath leaves your mouth when you try to talk, but that’s when the realisation comes sharply— you have nothing to say. genuinely nothing. your brain was completely empty, having probably leaked down your thighs by now when he’d fucked every last thought out of your head. you barely even recognise the man now comfortably situated by your still-spread legs; you know who he is, but no name, no recognisable sense of identity comes to your head as you let out another hoarse breath in an attempt to communicate.

but then another little whimper leaves you through your heavy breaths and dizzy little sounds as you try your hardest to come down, and you realise that you do know this man. it’s your lieutenant. lieutenant ghost. how could you ever forget the giant masked man always wearing the skull face who’s authority you’d always obey, way back when you first began working with the task force? of course you could never forget him!

(your poor little mind must have blacked out so hard during those countless orgasms that he’d given you, that you completely forgot about the man you’d been dating for the past two years now: instead only remembering the man you’d been serving under for the past three. the man who you trained yourself to obey and work for ever since you met. and honestly, with how dumb and mushy he’d made you after orgasm number three, nobody could blame you.)

“…ghost.” you softly, deliriously whisper out amidst your heavy pants, completely out of touch with reality and the world that you’re still in right now. your eyes are glued to the ceiling, your entire body unable to move, and that’s when you finally, faintly register the small tear rolling down from the corner of your eye towards your hairline as your body continues trying to recover from the high. fuck. orgasm was so good that you cried?

“nah, ‘ts just me baby… just simon.” he whispers back with a small smile on his face as his eyes move to look at yours for a second, deeply admiring the adorable little fucked out look you have. your eyes were glazed over, he could almost see the hearts in your pupils from how clearly fucking great that final climax was for you. your face was glossy with sweat, hair disheveled, and your bare breasts rose up and down as you panted heavily, gaze glued to the ceiling. he continues to reposition himself over your limp, helpless sprawled out frame underneath him on the bed until he’s properly situated over your lower-half, eyes locked on your pussy. he pushes one of your legs open, admittedly more roughly than he’d intended to, and unintentionally lets out a low moan from deep within his throat when he’s greeted with the full display of the creampie he just gave you.

“ghost…” you weakly whisper again, barely registering his words. barely comprehending the full extent of your relationship with the huge, heavy man in front of you currently admiring, completely stuck on the absolute state of your wrecked little cunt right now, after what was probably the longest and most intense fucking of your life.

he chuckles again, already sensing the adorably confused little expression on your face- furrowed eyebrows, puffed out lips, slightly separate and opened to help you even further in regaining your breaths- even though his eyes never once leave your lower half. thick globs of his own spend have already leaked down from your cunt, trickling past your asshole and pooling onto the bedsheets below the two of you, diluted a little by your own slick and squirt, and forming what is possibly the most lewd and downright delicious display simon has ever seen in his life. he could stay here forever, admiring the scene for the rest of his life.

but he also needs to do his job now, helping you recover from it all. from what he gave you, from what you let him take from you tonight.

“it’s simon, love, no ghost here right now.” he mumbles sweetly as he finally relents and tears his gaze away from your spent womanhood to properly face his sweet girl, his smile only widening when his suspicions on how evidently fucked out your facial expression is becomes confirmed. he chuckles softly again, the sound nothing but a low, exhaled breath as he moves up to hover over you, his face inches away from yours as he cups your cheek with one of those large, warm hands of his in an attempt to get you to finally look at him. (the same hand that he’d already wrung orgasm after orgasm out of you with tonight.)

when your eyes finally tear from the ceiling to look at his face, long lashes batting repeatedly against your skin as you try to blink the blurriness of your vision away, he coos, fingers sprawling over your face to gently brush away the stray hairs that were messily scattered over your forehead and eyes.

“mmmm-” is the only dumb little sound you have the brain capacity of making, but it gets shushed up automatically when he presses the softest of kisses against your lips, naturally forcing your vision to go back to normal that much more straight away, allowing you to finally, properly focus on the man still hovering in front of you. the man you were slowly beginning to remember that you loved, practically more than anything.

he presses another delicate little kiss to your forehead, the corners of his lips turning upwards that much further as he hears the sound from you amidst your consistent weak breaths and moans, before he moves down over your face again, still cupping your cheek and tilting your head upwards to try and make you properly look him in the eye. god, he loved when you would get like this. maybe, potentially, getting to witness the aftermath of what he would do to you was his favourite part, even more than the sex itself.

“you know my name, yeah? c’mon, love, say it. say my name.” he coos to you, so tenderly you’d think he was trying to reel in a scared farm animal or pet. he tilts his head inquisitively at you, absolutely enamoured by how spaced out and completely engulfed by bliss and satisfaction you still were, as he waits for a response from his beloved girl.

“gh-” you can see his eyebrows raise a little. in that classic simon way whenever you’d do or say something questionable to him, that amused him or perplexed him further. only simon could do that. your simon. and then it dawns on you. it was him. it was simon.

“s… s-simon…” you finally slur out happily, the tiniest of smiles beginning to spread across your cheeks as you tilt your head back at him and blink quickly, finally beginning to recollect yourself and come back down to reality after it all. it only makes him beam back at you in response, that familiar and warm smile comforting you and pulling you so much closer back to earth as you begin to regain feeling in your body and brain.

“yeaaah…” he drawls out proudly, chuckling a little more at you before he leans back down to your forehead, granting you another soft and familiar peck. “that’s it, baby. that’s my girl.” he murmurs against your hairline, those big, warm, admittedly slightly rough palms of his roaming back down across your body- tits, tummy, hips- until they meet the backs of your thighs once again, and he pushes them up against you to put you back into the exposed position you were originally in, after your orgasm hit you. he silently wondered when you’d even slumped your legs down, probably out of so much fatigue from the whole thing, at some point while you tried to come to your senses. it made sense… but he also wasn’t finished admiring the state of you right now- even if you did manage to get your brain back.

he shamelessly hovers back down towards the lower half of your sweaty little body, big hands of his grasping each of your thighs to greedily spread them a little wider and push them back against you, essentially folding you, as he resumes what he was doing in admiring the absolute state of your wrecked little cunt. his cunt, that he had the privilege of using whenever his precious girl let him.

“fuuuckin’ hell, love…” he rasps out, warm breath from his mouth hitting your inner thigh as he praises the sight before him, before he plants another peck there, too, right where his fingers are gripping the plush of your thigh. he just genuinely couldn’t stop staring at it. his cum. the way it was spilling from inside of you, after he’d stuffed it so deep in there you’d think it was your body producing it and not his. the runniness of it all. it was genuinely like a sweet, slow, milky waterfall. goddamn was it lewd… not to mention the giant wet patch you’d personally made for him on the sheets below you, before he even spilled inside. he was definitely taking a mental snapshot, trying as hard as he could to remember the image for next time.

“mmm, fuck…” you slowly drawl out yourself, mimicking his profanity, as you register more and more of the pleasure he gave you in the aftermath of it all, seeping into your bones. you let out a heavy breath, tilting your head down towards where he’s at as your eyes finally, fully focus on him, and you finally take in everything around the two of you. everything that just happened, everything that you just did to each other. it turns his gaze away from your pussy once again towards your face, and he grins, handsome and wolfish, cockily almost.

“that good?” he asks, his voice that perfect mixture of gravel and timbre that has your insides stirring all over again.

“mhm.” you confirm, smiling down at him and using what little strength you were slowly beginning to regain to nod your head, as he slowly crawls back up your body so that his face meets yours all over again. you take it as a cue to finally relax your legs when he lets go of your thighs, tiredly slumping them down against the bed as your breaths become more stable and less heavy, bit by bit.

“yeah. think you soaked the bed a bit.” he teases, full-on beaming at you as he relishes in the way your eyes widen ever so slightly and your lips part in surprise as you process his words. oh shit. oh fuck. (no wonder the bed below you felt wetter than usual.)

“…i didn’t mean to.” the word spill out of your lips before you realise, whiny and breathless as you mumble them up at him, barely even realising that you were frowning partially before he chuckles softly once again and his hand comes back up to cradle your cheek. you find yourself leaning in to the warmth of the touch, so perfectly paired with the roughness of his palm, naturally.

“shhhh…” he immediately coos, before smiling again and shaking his head at how upset and slightly embarrassed you looked. did you not know?

“quiet down, baby…” he continues, practically purring out the words to you. “you know i love it when you cum like that, hm?”

he can’t help but chuckle yet again when your lips shut but your eyes remain widened, probably so shy and bashful by his shameless words. it’s almost enough to wipe away all the thoughts from your mind, once again. almost. you can’t think of that much to say in response, apart from-

“you’re perfect.” you state sweetly, that dumb little look still present on your face as you blink up at him, looking at simon like he built the universe for you. like he hung every star in the sky, just for you. he smiles, at the compliment, and in turn, you smile, too.

“you’re better.” he breathes out, lovingly, words so soft it’s practically a whisper. his eyes are glued on to yours, a testament to how much he’s focused on you and your recovery from being plowed so senselessly right now as he refuses to tear his gaze off of his woman. (and also, he was done relishing in the sight of your adorably spent little pussy by now.)

“mmm… i- i love you, simon.” you breathe out lazily, the happy expression on your face growing tenfold as the words leave your lips. it was safe ground, for the two of you. what was once a terrifying phrase was now comforting, due to the fact that you both had already began using the sacred “l” word for the past maybe two, three months now. the happiness on his face spreads as he processes it, in turn mirroring the expression on yours, as he chuckles softly and beams at you. if you didn’t know any better, if you’d maybe recollected a little more brain power by now, it would have maybe also seemed like he was getting choked up.

“i love you too.” he breathes out with those beautiful caramel brown eyes of his still glued to yours, followed by the sweetest little mumble of your name, before he plants another kiss to your cheek and finally flops over to the side of you, gently pulling you against his chest. you let out a small exhale of both relief as well as fatigue as the exhaustion washes over you, and you allow your eyes to flutter shut as you rest your head on his chest, because you finally realised after it all that you were safe. you were home.

home with your lieutenant. your boyfriend. your simon.

<3

© sugarmeowe 2024. please do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own, or share to any third party sites!!

a/n- FIRST EVER POST WOWOWEEEEWOW!!! also jfc this ended up being SOOO much longer than i intended, i had to do so much tweaking to it in comparison to the blurb i originally had written in my notes. but i hope you all enjoy!! please do like ‘n reblog ‘n share if you did, it would mean a lot to me as a new writer!! until then, see u next time sexy tumblr people :-)

It's the first time I posted something I actually translated...It's my friend's work, and he asked me to post it to Tumblr👉👈 I'm not sure if there are any romantic contents... English is not my mother language, if you guys have any idea about the fic please comment below, thanks~

The War of the Forsaken—Chapter 1

London, 1985.

Agent Helen Park took a sip of her warm coffee and then stretched out after finishing today's business.

In 1981, Perseus's plan to detonate all the nuclear bombs in Western Europe was completely smashed by Russell Adler's team, and Perseus seemed to dropped off the face of the earth.

No one have sign of the activities of Perseus now, not the CIA, MI6 or even the KGB. The authorities believed that Perseus has been killed in the melee of Solovetsky. But since the body was not found, the task of tracking Perseus must continue.

However, four years of aimless search has obviously made the authorities of the United States and Britain impatient. The power of the Soviet Union is fading， and the War in Afghanistan has made the Union worse. The KGB's overseas intelligence network has also been damaged bit by bit. The authorities begin to think that Perseus is no longer an important target.

Park's tracking team was forced to disband, and the original team members were assigned to needed positions.

Although she is seriously understaffed, she somehow managed to get some scattered clues through her own relationship.

And she's been sorting out these clues for weeks.

Most of them are useless and repetitive information, and there is very little valuable information. What she can learn now is that CIA agents stationed in Afghanistan are being systematically arrested and tortured recently.

Most of the agents were hit in the head by blunt instruments after being tortured, and they were in a coma. When they woke up, they lost part of the memory of the interrogation to some extent. There was only water on the ground and a few rags left at the scene of the interrogation.

This is unlike what Perseus would do, most of the agents have little to do with the War in Afghanistan. Some of the agents only have the task of monitoring a senior official in Afghanistan. If Perseus wants to help the Soviet Union win the military action in Afghanistan, it will not do any good for him to torture these agents. On the contrary, it will make it easier to reveal his whereabouts.

When the information was sent to Park's e-mail, it was marked "delete after reading".

Of course, Park will do it, but she will extract all the information first, and then delete the email.

She hasn't had time to read today's email. She wants to copy down the content before she gets off work and analyze it slowly after she gets home.

Park opens her email and clicks in the latest one.

However, the moment she saw the content of the email, her heart acetated and she got goose bumps.

"There was an agent who remembered what happened. He claimed that the interrogator was a 30-year-old woman, blonde hair, calling herself"Bell ", has a London accent and can speak fluent Russian."

Bell, the memory that she dares not touch like an exposed nerve, has been conceal for four years.

In Solovetsky, she saw the girl in a pool of blood, and Adler, who asked Park to help carry the body.

1981, West Berlin hideout.

"Where's Woods?And Mason? And Adler? " Bell just got out of a battle, she took a bath, pushed open the door of the bathroom, but found that three of them disappeared.

"They went to meet Hudson. I'm glad you're back safe and sound." Park said as she wrote at her desk.

"Maybe that's the British luck." Bell recalled the situation when she was hunting down by the Soviet infantry chariots.

"It's not just luck that made you stay in the MI6, is it?" Park put down her pen, turned to the Bell and said, "The team say that you are the a cryptography master in the whole Ministry."

"I taught myself when I was in the university, when my brother was just killed in a terrorist attack……May him rest in peace. " Bell picked up the 63 rifle leaning against the wall, unloaded the mag, and then pulled the bolt to withdraw the gun. She skillfully unloaded the gun for routine maintenance.

There was a subtle change in Park's expression, but her professionalism immediately calmed her down.

"I heard you graduated from Oxford, too?" Asked Bell.

"Yes."

"Do you know Professor McFarlane? I might not have choose this job without him."

"I think you should have a rest. Chatting too long is not good for the next mission." Park diverted the topic.

"I must clean the dirt inside the gun before I go to bed... I do know I really need a rest. My thoughts are a little messy these days." Bell replied.

London, 1985.

"You know it's against the rules of MI6. Even allies can't contact each other's intelligence personnel without permission."

The speaker is a tall, thin man with a bushy beard. He lean against the railings of the Thames River to enjoy the scenery of late autumn. On the other side of the river is the retired cruiser Belfast.

"I heard that you are going to sent a team to an observation mission in Afghanistan. Maybe there would be a place for me?" Park asks.

"The CIA didn't invite MI6 to the mission. I'm not sure I can convince Hudson to let you in." The tall man replys, "your boss won't agree either."

"I'll take care of the bureaucracy of MI6. Just squeeze me in. Don't worry, my action is also for the benefit of the free world. "

"I've always believed in you, Park, but I also want to remind you not to mess around." The man left with his hands in his pockets.

Park can understand his worry, since he has taken this job, he will have many kinds of worst assumptions in his subconscious.

On the battlefield of Afghanistan, the Soviet army is still deadlocked with the Afghan soldiers. The observation team organized by the CIA nominally represents the United Nations, but they provides military training and weapons for the Afghan soldiers in the dark.

Even when the Soviet Union is on the wane, NATO never dared to despise the "Red Giant".