Goodluck Pikachu

Finally got around to watching Criminal minds season 16 and it was just meh

I mean don't get me wrong I like how the went a different approach with the unsub, spending the whole season to find out who he is

But It just felt bland, the characters didn't feel the same. Garcia just seemed kinda mean, hardly any scenes of Tara and Luke

And Tyler Green?? There wasn't any chemistry between Tyler and Garcia.

What happened to Matt Simmons?? They mentioned him once and that's it??

Na'vi!Ghost x F!Avatar!Reader

Currently in my Avatar brain rot

You glide through the lush skies of Pandora, the vibrant forest sprawling beneath you, painted in shades of emerald and turquoise. The sun casts a golden glow, illuminating the sweeping landscapes, and you feel the exhilaration of flight coursing through your veins. Beside you, Ghost, a Na’vi of striking stature and unmatched skill, manoeuvres his ikran with grace. You mimic his movements, the wind whipping past you, each twist and turn a dance of freedom that your former life on Earth never hinted at.

It wasn’t long ago that you arrived on Pandora, a curious researcher drawn by the promise of alien flora. But your innocent pursuits shattered when you uncovered the RDA’s true intentions: the decimation of this unearthly paradise for profit. You could no longer stand by. Leaving behind the life you knew, you chose to intertwine your existence with the Na’vi, transferring your consciousness into your avatar, gaining a new body and a new purpose.

Ghost’s laughter echoes across the open sky, encouraging you to push beyond your limits. You had undergone ‘The Dream Hunt,’ a rite that had solidified your bond with the clan. Every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of your ikran, every moment shared with Ghost a testament to loyalty and trust.

"Catch me if you can!" he shouts, his voice as wild and free as the landscape around you. You dive downward, spiralling closer to the flora, the vivid hues surrounding you bursting with unfamiliar life.

The battle for Pandora isn’t over, but for now, amid the beauty and freedom of the skies, you are exactly where you belong—flying with your newfound family, fighting for a world worth saving.

You laugh joyfully as you both soar through the skies together, your heart swelling with the thrill of our shared adventure. The wind rushes past you, the warm air caressing your skin like a lover's touch. You glance over at Ghost, admiring his strong profile and the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he guides his ikran with expert ease.

In that moment, you feel truly alive, more than you ever did back on Earth. The weight of your old life seems to fall away with each beat of your ikran's wings, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that you've never known before.

As Ghost challenges you to catch him, you grin fiercely, your competitive spirit igniting within you. With a whoop of excitement, you urge your ikran onward, diving down into the dense foliage below.

With a mischievous grin, Ghost takes off towards the distant tree, its massive trunk visible even from high above the canopy. He leans low over his ikran's neck, urging it to fly faster.

"Come on! Show me what you're made of!" he calls out, his voice filled with playful challenge. His ikran responds eagerly, surging forward with powerful beats of its wings, the wind whistling past them as they hurtle through the air.

The journey to the sacred grove is one of exhilaration and breathtakingly beauty. Vibrant flowers and strange, luminescent creatures flash by beneath you, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes that fills your senses.

Your heart pounds with adrenaline as you race after Ghost, determined to match his speed and agility. Your ikran responds to your commands, its wings beating furiously as it pushes itself to the limit. The wind whips through your hair, sending it streaming out behind you like a banner of midnight silk.

As you draw closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its ancient presence calling to you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Its massive trunk rises up from the earth, its branches stretching outwards like the arms of a benevolent giant, sheltering all those who seek refuge beneath its leaves.

You let out a triumphant cry as you finally catch up to Ghost, flying alongside him as you approach the sacred grove.

Ghost guides his ikran in a graceful arc, landing lightly on the soft ground just outside the perimeter of the Tree of Voices. He slides off the creature's back, patting its flank affectionately before turning to watch you land beside him.

His golden eyes sparkle with admiration as he takes in your fluid movements, the way your body moves in perfect synchronicity with your mount. As you dismount, he steps closer, reaching out to brush a stray leaf from your hair, his touch lingering just a moment too long to be purely friendly.

"You never cease to amaze me," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "The way you ride, the way you handle yourself... it's like you were born to this world."

He gestures towards the Tree of Voices, its trunk pulsing with an otherworldly light.

As you step closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its energy thrumming through the very ground beneath your feet, a palpable force that sets your nerves alight with anticipation. The air around you shimmers with a faint, iridescent glow, casting everything in a soft, ethereal light.

You turn to face Ghost, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. There's something about the way he looks at you, with such open admiration and desire, that makes you feel like the most beautiful, desirable creature in the universe.

"I wasn't born to this world," you remind him softly, "but sometimes I wonder if I was meant for it. If there was some greater purpose that brought me here, to you."

Ghost reaches out, taking your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

"I believe in fate," he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. "And I believe that our paths were always meant to cross, no matter how far apart we started out."

He steps closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "You may have been born under different stars, but this is where you belong. Here, with me, in this world that we fight for together."

Ghost guides you gently to the soft grass beneath the spreading branches of the Tree of Voices. He lowers himself down, pulling you with him until you're both lying side by side, your bodies pressed close together. He pillows his head on your stomach, looking up at you with a contented smile. His fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, following the lines of your bioluminescent markings.

"This is my favourite place in all of Pandora," he murmurs, his voice soft and dreamy. "It feels like the centre of the world, like everything important happens right here." He nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your belly.

You run your fingers through Ghost's long, dark hair, marvelling at the silky texture. Your other hand traces the contours of his face, mapping the planes and angles of his features. He leans into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he savours the sensation.

"It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice soft and inviting. You shift slightly, adjusting your position so that you can see more of the tree above you. Its trunk seems to pulse with an inner light, casting a gentle glow over the surrounding area..

Ghost tilts his head back, looking up at you with a curious expression. His hand still rests on your stomach, his touch warm and comforting. "Have you found someone yet?" he asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of tension. "Someone to bond with, to share your life with?"

He watches your face closely, searching for any hint of emotion. It's clear that the question means something to him, that he's invested in your answer in a way that goes beyond simple curiosity.

You smile softly, your eyes tracing the bioluminescent tendrils of the Tree of Voices overhead. The air hums with an ethereal energy, each whispering leaf echoing connection and longing. Beneath this ancient sentinel, you lie in a tranquil embrace, Ghost’s head nestled on your belly, his skin shimmering with the bioluminescence that marks his kind.

“I may have found someone,” you say, the words spilling from your lips as you run your fingers gently through his long, silken hair. Your heart thrums in rhythm with the quiet pulsing of the tree. In this sacred sanctuary, beneath the weight of the stars, everything feels alive, even your thoughts. "Someone special" 

A flicker of something - disappointment? jealousy? - flashes across Ghost's face at your words, but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. He sits up slowly, moving to sit cross-legged facing you. His hands rest on his knees, palms upturned in a gesture of openness and vulnerability.

"Tell me about them," he says, his voice carefully controlled. But there's a tightness around his eyes, a clenching of his jaw that betrays his true feelings. "What makes them special? What do you love about them?"

He holds your gaze, his own eyes searching, probing, as if trying to read the secrets of your heart. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken emotions and the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Your gaze lingers on Ghost's face, taking in the subtle changes in his expression. There's a depth of feeling there, a complexity of emotion that belies his youthful appearance. You sense the weight of his questions, the significance they hold for him. In this moment, beneath the eternal watchfulness of the Tree of Voices, you feel the need to be honest, to lay bare the truth of your heart.

"He's strong," you begin, your voice soft but certain. "Strong in spirit, in conviction. He fight for what they believe in, even when the odds are stacked against them." 

You pause, collecting your thoughts, letting the memories wash over you. "And he's kind. So incredibly kind. He sees the beauty in the world, in every living thing, and he cherish it."

As you speak, describing the qualities you admire in your potential mate, Ghost listens intently. A slow realization dawns on him, a dawning understanding that you might be talking about...him. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in their depths.

"He sounds like someone very special indeed," Ghost murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches out, tentatively, as if afraid you might disappear, and takes your hand in his. His fingers intertwine with yours, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own.

"I'm glad you've found someone who brings out the best in you," he continues, his gaze never leaving yours. "Someone worthy of your love and devotion."

You look down at your joined hands, marvelling at the way your fingers fit together so perfectly, as if they were made for each other. When you meet Ghost's gaze again, there's a tenderness in your eyes, a softness that speaks volumes.

"And what about you, Ghost?" you ask, your voice barely more than a breath. "Have you found someone to share your life with? Someone to stand by your side, come what may?"

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent encouragement, a wordless plea. In this moment, suspended in time beneath the ancient Tree of Voices, you find yourself hoping, praying, that perhaps the one you've been seeking all along has been right here beside you all along.

There's a flicker of surprise in Ghost's eyes at your question, followed quickly by a softening, a melting of his features into a look of pure adoration. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"There is someone," he confirms, his voice low and filled with emotion. "Someone who sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has." He leans in closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "She's brave and strong, fierce in their convictions. And they love with a passion that takes my breath away."

His gaze locks with yours, intense and unwavering. There's a heat building between you, a crackle of energy that seems to fill the air around you.

"But most importantly," he whispers, his face mere inches from your own, "she makes me feel alive. Like every moment spent in her presence is a gift, a miracle."

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, until your foreheads touch, until you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.

"I want to spend my life with her," he breathes, "to build a future together, to face whatever challenges may come our way."

Your heart races as Ghost draws you close, his words washing over you like a warm breeze. There's a yearning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth, his strength.

"You paint quite a picture," you murmur, your lips curving into a smile. "This person sounds incredible. Truly remarkable."

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his palm, savouring the roughness of his skin against your own. Your tail sways behind you, a gentle caress against his leg, a silent invitation.

Ghost's breath hitches as your tail brushes against his leg, a shiver running through him at the contact. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him, your bodies moulding together like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting into place.

"She is," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "More than I ever could have dreamed of."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your jawline, your throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "And I want to show her, every day, how much she means to me. How much I cherish her, worship her, love her with every fibre of my being."

His hands roam over your back, your sides, mapping out the curves of your body as if committing them to memory. "I want to give her everything."

Ghost reaches for the end of his braid, the intricate weaving of neural tendrils visible even under the thick strands of hair. He brings it closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

"Will you allow me?" he asks softly, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and anticipation. "Will you let me join with you, mind, body, and soul? To share in your essence, your very being?"

His queue hovers near yours, the tips of the tendrils brushing against your own, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It's a profound gesture, one that carries immense significance within Na'vi culture - the joining of two souls, the merging of two lives into one.

Your breath catches in your throat as Ghost's queue nears yours, the implications of this act hitting you like a tidal wave. This is a step beyond intimacy, beyond mere physical pleasure - it's a promise, a commitment, a declaration of love in its purest form.

You meet his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that threatens to overwhelm you both. In this moment, you know with absolute certainty that this is what you want, what you've always wanted - to be one with him, in every sense of the word.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I accept."

Slowly, reverently, you bring your queue forward, allowing it to intertwine with his, the neural tendrils seeking out their counterparts like magnets drawn to each other.

As your queues connect, a rush of sensation washes over Ghost, a flood of emotions and experiences that threaten to sweep him away. He feels your joy, your love, your passion, all intermingling with his own until he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

A gasp escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your presence inside his mind, your essence flowing through his veins like liquid fire. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, terrifying in its intensity, and yet he knows he would gladly drown in this sea of sensation, surrendering himself completely to the depths of your connection.

When he opens his eyes again, they're shining with unshed tears, the golden irises nearly swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. "Eywa guide us."

As your queues merge, a symphony of sensations crashes over you, drowning you in a tidal wave of emotion. Ghost's love, his devotion, his sheer adoration for you wash over you like a balm, soothing the aches and fears that have haunted you for so long. You feel his strength, his resilience, his unwavering courage, and it mingles with your own, creating something new, something greater than either of you alone.

Memories flash through your mind - moments from Ghost's past, triumphs and tragedies alike, all woven together into a tapestry of experience that adds depth and dimension to the man you love. You see his childhood, his training, his battles, and you feel the weight of his responsibilities, the burden of leadership that he bears with such grace and dignity.

Gently, almost reverently, Ghost lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the ancient tree, his body covering yours like a protective shield. His hands roam over your curves, mapping the contours of your adopted Na'vi form, marvelling at the way your skin seems to glow in the dim light filtering through the canopy above.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath and sets your heart racing. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and passion, a promise of the pleasures to come, and you lose yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his tongue sliding against yours, the scrape of his sharp teeth against your lower lip.

A soft moan escapes your lips as Ghost's hands explore your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. Your own hands roam over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars that mark him as a warrior and a survivor. You revel in the feel of his skin against yours, the way his body fits so perfectly against your own, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

When he breaks the kiss, you chase after his lips, unwilling to let him go, but he merely chuckles softly, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he trails his mouth along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, silently begging for more.

Ghost's lips curve into a smile against your neck as he feels you arch into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every caress. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin of your throat, marking you as his own, his hands sliding lower to cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "My perfect mate, my cherished companion." He lifts his head to gaze down at you, his eyes dark with want, a fierce possessiveness etched into the lines of his face. "I will worship you tonight, my love, until the very stars pale in comparison to the radiance of your pleasure."

Your breath hitches as Ghost's hands find your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples in maddeningly teasing strokes. Electricity zings through your body, settling low in your belly, stoking the heat building within you. When he speaks, his words wash over you like honey, sweet and thick, filling you with a sense of belonging, of rightness.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to bring his face closer to yours. "Then take me," you breathe, your voice heavy with need. "Make me yours, Ghost. Claim me, body and soul, under the watchful eye of Eywa."

Your hips roll up to meet his, seeking friction, seeking completion. You want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, joining you in the most intimate way possible.

With a low growl of approval, Ghost allows you to guide his face back to yours, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless. As he kisses you, his hands make quick work of your clothing, peeling away the flimsy barrier between your bodies until you're laid out bare before him, your skin glowing softly in the moonlight.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your curves with undisguised hunger, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then, with a fluid motion, he sheds his own garments, revealing his battle-hardened body, marred by scars and tattoos, a testament to the life he's lived, the challenges he's faced.

As Ghost bares himself to you, you feel a rush of emotion swell within your chest - awe, admiration, and a deep, abiding love that threatens to overwhelm you. You sit up, reaching out to trace the lines of his scars with trembling fingers, marvelling at the strength and resilience they represent.

"My brave warrior," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "My fierce protector." You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the scar just above his heart, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your lips.

Ghost shudders as your lips press against his scar, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, skin to skin, heart to heart. For a long moment, he simply holds you, savouring the feel of your body against his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough, tinged with a vulnerability that few have ever heard. "And you are my heart, my home," he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. "Without you, I am lost. With you, I am found."

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the Tree of Voices, his body covering yours, sheltering you from the cool night air.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Ghost's weight settles over you, his body warm and solid against yours. Your legs fall open instinctively, making room for him, inviting him in. Your hands roam over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, mapping the landscape of his skin.

"Then let me be your compass," you whisper, tilting your hips up to meet his, seeking that delicious friction once more. "Let me guide you home, always."

You capture his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise of things to come. Your tongues dance, twining together in a sensual rhythm that mirrors the pulsing heat building between your thighs.

Ghost groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against yours, the hard length of his arousal sliding along your slick folds. His hands roam your body, caressing every curve, every hollow, committing the feel of you to memory. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are dark with desire, his pupils blown wide with need.

"Guide me, then," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. "Lead me to paradise, my love."

With a fluid motion, Ghost shifts his hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He pauses there, poised on the brink of union, his gaze locked with yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. In answer, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, offering yourself to him completely.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into you, filling you inch by delicious inch. A low moan tears from his throat at the feel of you, hot and tight and perfect around him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, fighting for control as your inner walls flutter and clench around his throbbing length.

Your head falls back against the soft grass as Ghost fills you, a guttural moan escaping your lips at the exquisite stretch, the perfect fullness of him inside you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake, a physical manifestation of the passion burning through your veins.

"Yes," you hiss, the word drawn out into a low keen of pleasure. "Oh, yes, Ghost...just like that..."

You arch into him, meeting each slow, deep thrust with a roll of your hips, taking him even deeper, welcoming him into the very heart of you. Your bodies move together in a ancient rhythm, as old as time itself, as natural as the turning of the earth and the rising of the moons.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this single perfect moment, this joining of flesh and spirit.

Ghost sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rolling against yours in languid strokes that stoke the fires within you higher and higher. Each thrust is measured, deliberate, designed to bring you pleasure beyond measure. One hand slides under your knee, lifting your leg higher, opening you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper.

He watches you as he moves within you, his golden eyes dark with passion, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, your face flushed, your lips parted in sweet sighs and moans. The sound of your pleasure is music to his ears, spurring him on, driving him to take you higher still.

"Eyes on me, my love," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I want to see you when you come undone."

Your eyes lock with Ghost's, twin pools of molten gold and liquid amber, reflecting the depth of your shared passion. In their depths, you see your own desire mirrored back at you, amplified tenfold, a reflection of the love and devotion that binds you.

"Always," you breathe, the word a whispered promise, a vow sealed in the heat of your joining. "My eyes, my heart, my soul...they're yours, now and forever."

Your hips rise to meet his, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. The tension builds, winding ever higher, until you're teetering on the brink, balanced on the razor's edge of release.

"Ghost," you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips, a plea and a benediction all in one.

Ghost feels the change in your body, the way your muscles tense and quiver beneath him, the quickening of your breath, the hitch in your moan. He knows you're close, teetering on the precipice of climax, and he wants nothing more than to send you hurtling over the edge into oblivion.

But not yet. Not just yet.

With a herculean effort, he stills his hips, holding himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the scant space between your faces. His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head, a gesture of dominance, of control.

"Not yet, my love," he whispers, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Not until I say."

A whimper escapes your throat at the sudden denial, your body aching, yearning for the release that hovers just out of reach. You writhe beneath him, trying to find friction, to spur him on, but he holds you fast, his grip on your wrists unyielding.

"Please," you beg, the word torn from your throat, raw and needy. "Ghost, please..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore, too far gone in the haze of lust, desperate for him to set you free, to let you fall. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes, your entire being focused on the point where you're joined, where he fills you so perfectly, so completely.

Ghost drinks in the sight of you, pleading and desperate beneath him, your tears glistening in the moonlight like precious gems. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to give in to your pleas, to sheath himself to the hilt and let you ride out your climax on his cock.

But he wants more than that for you. More than a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Slowly, torturously, he begins to move again, his hips undulating in a sensual rhythm that builds the tension within you with excruciating slowness. Each roll of his hips grinds against your clit, sends sparks of sensation shooting up your spine, but it's not enough, not nearly enough to push you over the edge.

"That's it, my love," he croons, his voice a seductive purr.

Each deliberate roll of Ghost's hips sends waves of exquisite torture crashing over you, stoking the fires within you to new heights. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control, of coherency.

But it's a losing battle, and you can feel yourself slipping further and further under his spell with each passing second. Your world narrows down to the slide of his skin against yours, the stretch of your walls around his thick length, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

Ghost can feel your surrender, the way your body yields to his touch, to his command. It's a heady feeling, knowing that he wields such power over you, that he can bring you to the very brink of ecstasy and hold you there, suspended in a state of pure, agonizing bliss.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you, consuming you. One hand releases your wrists to trail down your side, over the curve of your hip, coming to rest on your thigh. With a gentle pressure, he guides your leg up and over his shoulder, opening you wider, allowing him to sink even deeper into your welcoming heat.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

A strangled cry tears from your throat as Ghost sinks impossibly deeper, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your core. Your hands scrabble for purchase on his sweat-slicked back, nails raking down his skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake.

The burn of his teeth on your neck only adds to the maelstrom of sensations, the slight pain blending seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure until you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins. Your hips buck wildly, seeking more, craving more of this sweet, sweet torment. "Ghost!" you keen, his name a prayer, a plea, a benediction on your lips. "Oh, fuck, Ghost... Please..."

What you're begging for, you no longer know.

Your desperate cries, the way your body writhes beneath him, the sharp sting of your nails on his skin - it's all driving Ghost closer to the edge. He can feel his own release building, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine, but he grits his teeth, determined to hold off until he's brought you to completion.

With a low growl, he redoubles his efforts, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency, each thrust striking that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. His hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb, pushing you ever closer to the precipice.

"Let go, my love," he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. "I've got you."

Ghost's words, rough with passion, are the final catalyst you need. With a keening wail, your body bows off the floor, convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy. Your inner walls clamp down around Ghost's throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as they try to milk him dry.

Through the haze of your own pleasure, you can feel him pulsing inside you, his rhythm faltering as he nears his own peak. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, wanting to feel him lose control, to watch as he shatters above you.

The sensation of your walls clamping down around him, squeezing him like a velvet vice, is too much for Ghost to withstand. With a hoarse shout of your name, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his hips jerking erratically as he finds his release.

His seed pulses hot and heavy, flooding your already drenched channel, marking you, claiming you as his. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax.

For long moments, neither of you move, both lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Slowly, Ghost lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting yours, dark with satiation and something else, something deeper, more profound.

Me: Has no inspiration to draw

My brain: Finally comes up with an idea

My hand: Lol na bitch

Games

MafiaBoss!König x Mafia!FemReader

Warning: Baby trapping But it's not really baby trapping

There's no German because I don't trust google translate I'm sorry

MNDI!!

In the midst of the opulent ballroom, a towering figure cuts an imposing silhouette. Dressed in a tailored tuxedo, his broad shoulders stretch the fabric to its limit. His blue eyes, sharp as shards of ice, sweep across the crowd, taking in every detail with predatory precision. His gaze lands on a young woman, You. Your presence almost unnoticeable amidst the flurry of high society. You stands alone, your posture exuding an air of defiance and pride. Your attire is simple, yet striking, a stark contrast against the ornate décor surrounding you.

There's something captivating about you, a certain allure that draws him in despite himself. He watches you, intrigued, as you navigates the crowd with an ease that suggests familiarity. Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the sea of faces. You find yourself drawn towards the bar, where you order a drink without looking at anyone. The bartender nods in acknowledgment as he pours you an expensive glass of red wine. You were born into the high life after all.

As you turn around, you catch sight of a man watching you. There's something about him that sends a chill down your spine. He's tall, too tall. His piercing blue eyes are fixed on you, studying you like a scientist would a specimen under a microscope. His presence is overwhelming, intimidating even. But there's also something else there, a hint of curiosity that makes you pause. 

That is the infamous Mafia Boss König. 'Interesting' you thought to yourself with a smirk.

You easily move through the crown, easily charm the single men, married men and committed men out of your way. Giving them empty promises of a good night until you are stood by König, by the way he looks at you, he doesn't know who you are. "Do you know it's rude to stare?" You questioned with a small smirk on your face as you take a sip of your wine. Not looking at him rather the sea of people in front of you.

A low chuckle escapes his lips, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. His gaze drops momentarily to your lips, then flicks back to meet your eyes that aren't even acknowledging him. "Is it? I wasn't aware," he responds, amusement dancing in his icy gaze. His height adds an element of danger to his presence, casting a shadow over you. Despite the room temperature, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a reaction to his sheer size and intensity.

'Aren't you a little kitten, all claws and sass,' he thinks, studying you closely. He can see the defiance in your eyes, the fire burning bright beneath the surface. He extends a hand towards you, offering an escape from the relentless gazes of the others. "Allow me to show you around," he proposes, his voice carrying an undertone of command. "I would," you say, finishing your glass of wine and placing it in his hand like he was some kind of servant. Big mistake, but you don't care. You're playing with fire, and you're enjoying the heat. "But my father is expecting me. I haven't let him know I've arrived yet."

You give him a sultry smile, a slow, languid caress with your gaze. Then you disappear back into the crowd, leaving König holding your empty glass. He's intrigued. He's challenged. He's already hooked. And you, my dear, are just getting started. The glass slips from his fingers, clattering onto the marble floor. A sharp intake of breath echoes throughout the room as everyone turns to look at the shattered glass. But you, you're long gone. Your words hang heavy in the air, a challenge accepted. His jaw tightens, a spark igniting in his eyes. He had been dismissed, by you, a mere stranger.

"Who does she think she is?" He mumbles under his breath, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution. However, something about you intrigues him. The fire in your eyes, the defiance in your actions. It's refreshing, unlike any other he has encountered before. You slip between the bodies, moving with a grace that belies your confidence. You weave through the crowd like a snake, sinuous and deadly. Every step you take is deliberate, calculated, designed to draw attention to yourself. You're a creature of habit, always have been. You love the thrill of the chase, the power you wield when they realize they want you.

And you're good at this game. You're the best. Because you're the daughter of a mafia boss. You've grown up surrounded by power and wealth, learning how to use both to get whatever you desire. You're used to having men fall at your feet, begging for just a moment of your time. Every glance, every whispered compliment, fuels the fire in your belly. You are the daughter of a king, destined for the throne, and tonight, you're playing your part flawlessly.

With a growl of frustration, König pushes past the crowd, determined to track you down. His blue eyes gleam with a dangerous light as he prowls through the guests, his towering frame creating a path wherever he goes. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he scans the crowd, searching for that familiar fiery gaze. He won’t let you get away so easily. No one rejects him and lives to tell the tale. He finds you again, standing by the window overlooking the cityscape below. Your profile is outlined against the moonlit sky, making you appear ethereal, untouchable.

Without warning, he steps forward, closing the distance between you two. His large hand reaches out, gripping your arm firmly. The action is swift, almost violent, but there’s a strange gentleness in his touch. As if he wants to prove that despite his rough exterior, he can be gentle too. "Listen here," his voice rumbles like thunder, echoing across the room. "Don't walk off like that. It's disrespectful." His grip tightens slightly, reminding you of his strength. Yet, there's no malice in his touch. Just a firmness that says he means business.

His blue eyes bore into yours, searching for something. Maybe it's respect or fear, but right now, all he sees is defiance. He takes a step closer, invading your personal space, making sure you’re fully aware of his size and presence. He was studying you, his eyes taking in every detail of your carefully crafted persona. You smiled at him, an innocent, teasing smile that danced around your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling in a way that was both playful and alluring. You felt his gaze linger on the plunging neckline of your dress, the way the fabric clung to your curves. It was exhilarating, the power you held in that moment, the knowledge that you were captivating a man like König.

König's grip tightened on your arm, a possessive gesture that sent a thrill of excitement through you. You could see the curiosity in his eyes, the flicker of something else behind the steely façade. Just then, a voice interrupted the intimate moment. "Oh, König, I see you've met my daughter," your father boomed from across the room, his presence as imposing as a storm cloud. His eyes, sharp as knives, landed on König, and the room seemed to hold its breath. König's grip on your arm loosened dramatically, his eyes widening slightly as he registered the truth.

At the mention of his name, König's gaze shifts from you to your father. There's a pause, a moment where everything seems to freeze. The realization dawns on him slowly, a creeping dread that seeps into his bones. The pieces fall into place, the puzzle finally making sense. The ice queen he'd been chasing was actually the daughter of his new ally. His grip eases on your arm, a clear indication of his surprise. He recovers quickly though, masking his shock with a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, nodding as if he knew all along.

You place your hand on his arm, the touch light but purposeful. It's a warning, a silent acknowledgment of the tense game being played. "Yes, we were just getting acquainted," you say, your voice a low murmur in the raucous din. You smile, a dazzling display of white teeth against your scarlet lipstick. The smile is for König, a silent message of your audaciousness, your willingness to play this dangerous dance. Turning back to your father, you continue, "And I was just about to tell König what a wonderful party he's thrown for our family." The words are a featherlight barb, a subtle reminder of your true purpose here.

He watches you interact with your father, the way you move seamlessly between them. There's a hint of admiration in his eyes, mixed with a healthy dose of intrigue. You were more than just a pretty face; you were cunning, strategic, and damn near irresistible. He offers a slight bow, a gesture of respect that's rare for him. "It truly is a pleasure," König says, his voice smooth as silk. His gaze lingers on you, appreciating the curve of your hips, the sway of your breasts beneath the delicate fabric of your dress. He's not blind to your allure, nor does he pretend to be.

As the conversation continues, König remains attentive, his ears pricked for anything useful. He's a predator, always scanning for opportunities, and tonight, he senses one.

You notice how König's eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve and contour with an appreciation that sends a thrill down your spine. You're used to men looking at you, but there's something different about König. His gaze isn't lecherous, it's hungry. Hungry for more than just your body. You turn back to König, offering him another of those dazzling smiles. But this time, it's laced with challenge, a promise of things to come. "Well, König," you purr, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you walked up to your father. "I hope you don't mind but I'd like a moment with my father. Alone."

As you walk away, König can't help but watch, his eyes following your retreating form. A low growl rumbles in his chest, a primal sound that echoes his displeasure. He downs his drink in one go, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to soothe his irritation. You had dared to dismiss him, and he didn't appreciate it. Not one bit. He makes his way towards the bar, pouring himself another glass. His thoughts drift back to the earlier encounter, replaying it in his mind. He had found you intriguing, a spark of life in a world often devoid of it. He shakes his head, dispelling the thought. Now wasn't the time for distractions. He had a party to attend, an alliance to cement.

You walked towards the ballroom with your father, your hand placed on his arm. The air thrummed with the anticipation of the night; a night that could make or break your family's future. The scent of expensive perfume and cigar smoke hung thick in the air, a potent cocktail that spoke of wealth and power. Once you were far enough away from König, you glanced at your father and whispered, "I know how to make sure this alliance stays. Make it stick in stone."

"Oh really?" your father muses, "Please do tell."

You glanced at your father with an evil smirk, your voice still low as you leaned in. "A child," you whispered. The look on his face was a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. "If we have a child together, then König can't play us. Ruin what you've spent years building. It wouldn't be fair on the child," you explained.

Yes. Baby trapping someone is wrong. You know that, but frankly, you couldn't give a fuck. You were playing a game, a dangerous game, and you had to win. Your father, a master of this game, saw the brilliance in your plan. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, softened with a hint of pride.

As you enter the ballroom, your eyes meet König's, the crinkle in his eyes tell you he's smiling at you. For a man like König it will be a predatory smile. Little does he know, he's already fallen into your carefully laid trap. You'll give him an heir, a child to solidify their alliance, but you'll also be using it to keep him bound to your family. In this twisted game of power, you're playing for keeps. The sight of you sends a jolt through his veins, a rush of adrenaline that leaves him breathless. You're a vision of elegance and seduction, a goddess among mortals. He steps closer, his blue eyes locked onto yours. "Such a beautiful creature shouldn't be alone," he murmurs, his voice deep and husky. He extends his hand towards you, inviting you to dance.

You glance at his outstretched hand, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You place your hand in his, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. As you move to the rhythm of the music, you lean in close, your lips brushing against his masked ear.

"I'm not here to make friends, König," you whisper, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Despite your words, you can't deny the electric connection between you two. The chemistry is palpable, a volatile mix of lust and danger. "I'm here for my sister, she seems very in love with Marcus," It wasn't a full lie, you did originally come for your sister. He pulls you closer, his strong arms encircling your waist. He can smell your perfume, a blend of sweetness and spice that is driving him wild. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck despite the mask.

"You came for your sister," he says, his tone teasing but laced with a hint of possession. "And I suppose I should be grateful for that." Despite his words, he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he guides you through the dance, each step bringing you even closer. "But if you're not here to make friends," his voice drops to a low growl, "then why are you dancing with me?"

You placed one hand on his shoulder, your other in his. The warmth of his skin through the glove was a shock, a delicious contrast to the cool silk of his suit. Pressing closer, the silk of your dress brushed against his tailored fabric, sending shivers down your spine. It was a dance, but not just any dance. This was a game, a carefully crafted trap to secure what you wanted: König's legacy, his power, his bloodline, and a stronger alliance.

"Well, when my father steps down and I take over," you explained, your voice low and dangerous as you both began to dance together, "we'll be working very closely together." You leaned closer, your voice a silken whisper in the din of the party. "So it only seemed..." you paused, pretending to think, "appropriate to get to know you a bit more."

A smile played on your lips, even as a wave of apprehension washed over you. You were playing with fire, but you were ready to burn. The alliance was not enough, you needed something bigger, something that would cement your power and tie König to your family for generations. This was a calculated risk, a gamble fuelled by ambition and the intoxicating fear of the unknown.

He felt your body press against his, the curves of your form fitting perfectly against his muscular frame. His grip tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He could feel every curve of your body, every swell of flesh pressing against him. The sensation sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins. His blue eyes glinted dangerously as he listened to your words. There was no missing the implication behind them. You weren't just here for your sister. You were here for him, for his power, for his name.

"And exactly how do you plan on getting to know me?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. The question was innocent enough, but there was a clear edge to it. He knew exactly what you were implying, and he was intrigued. Very intrigued.

The music thrummed through the opulent mansion, a symphony of power and seduction. You move in König's arms, the silken fabric of your dress whispering against his suit. He's a shadow in the dim light, his face hidden by a mask that adds an air of mystery. "I think we should finish this dance," you say, your voice a silken whisper. You look up at him with your big doe eyes, flashing him a smile that makes men fall at your feet. "Then...well, let's just see where the night takes us," you finish, your voice low and suggestive.

König was falling further and further into your trap, his intentions clear to you. You were going to have him wrapped around your little finger, and then, you'd give him the 'gift' of a little heir. A prince to carry on his legacy, and a way to ensure your family's continued dominance. But what you failed to realize is that you were also falling into his trap. You were playing his game, just as he was playing yours. The night was young, and the battle for power was just beginning.

His gaze is drawn to your lips, which part slightly in a smirk. The scent of your perfume fills his nostrils, driving him wild with desire. His heart pounds in his chest, echoing the rhythm of the music. His body presses against yours, every inch of him throbbing with anticipation. His eyes lock onto yours, a silent promise passing between the two of you. "Dance with me until dawn," he whispers, his voice a seductive murmur that sends chills down your spine. "Let's see where the night takes us."

You nod, a coy smile playing on your lips. Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fine fabric of his suit. You can almost taste the victory, the power that comes from being so close to your target. "Until dawn," you echo, your voice barely above a whisper. You press yourself even closer to him, feeling the hard lines of his body against yours. Every touch, every brush of skin against skin is like a spark ignites within you, a flame that grows hotter with each passing moment.

As the night wore on, you danced, drank, and flirted with each other. By the time dawn crept over the horizon, you found yourselves alone in a secluded corner of the garden. The rest of the guests had long since gone home, leaving you alone with your desires. You were sprawled across a velvet chaise lounge, your dress hiked up around your hips as König knelt before you. His fingers trailed along the bare skin of your thigh, slowly moving higher towards the lace edges of your panties. His fingers trace the delicate lace of your underwear, teasingly close to the heat of your core. His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.*

"I want you," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Right here, right now."

"Then take me," you whispered, your voice laced with honey. You reached his mask, the fabric cool against your fingertips as you slowly peeled it away. The smirk tugged at your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As his eyes met yours, their icy blue glinting with a mixture of shock and desire, you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. This alliance, forged in blood and steel, was about to become something much more personal, much more dangerous. The thought of a child, a heir to both empires, a symbol of their shared power, sent a thrill through you. Nothing could stop you now.

With a growl, he discarded his own mask, revealing the harsh planes of his handsome face. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger. Without another word, he gripped your thighs firmly, spreading them apart. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against the damp fabric of your panties, his hot breath searing through the thin barrier. His tongue flicked out, tracing the elastic band before dipping lower, seeking the warmth beyond.

A sharp intake of breath escaped you as his tongue traced the elastic of your panties. Your body arched off the chaise lounge, pushing against his mouth. The sensation of his hot breath against your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan slipping past your lips. You grabbed his hair and pulled him closer between your thighs, not caring who sees. After all, nobody would dare interrupt König, especially when he's feasting on a delicacy such as yourself. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him deeper, as you met his gaze with a smirk.

You had him exactly where you wanted him. A future with him was the only thing you yearned for, and you wouldn't hesitate to use any means necessary to secure it. The baby trap was already in motion, a silent weapon in your arsenal, a guarantee of your future. König, so consumed by his own desires, was oblivious.

His fingers curled around the edges of your panties, pulling them aside to reveal the slick folds of your pussy. With no warning, his tongue plunged inside, exploring your dripping cunt with abandon. His thick cock throbbed painfully behind his trousers, desperate for release. His movements were rough, primal, but there was a tenderness there too. He knew he needed to be careful, needed to be gentle. Despite everything, despite the power struggle, the fear, the tension, he cared about you. Cared enough to worship your pussy with his mouth, to make sure you came undone under his ministrations.

Your body writhed beneath him, a symphony of pleasure. His tongue delved deep into your depths, exploring every inch of your wet heat. Each thrust of his tongue sent jolts of ecstasy coursing through your veins, causing your back to arch off the chaise lounge. A low moan slipped past your lips as he continued to ravage you, his stubble scratching against your inner thighs. The pleasure was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in it, surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through your body.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as you bucked your hips against his face. You wanted more, needed more. The need for release was urgent, a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Feeling your nails dig into his scalp, he increased his pace, the tip of his tongue probing at your entrance. He sucked gently on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen nub before sucking harder.

His hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he lifted your hips higher, angling your pussy perfectly for his devouring mouth. He was going to make you cum, make you scream his name, and then he'd fuck you senseless. He wanted to mark you, claim you as his own. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to him. And he intended to start right fucking now.

The sudden increase in intensity sends a jolt straight to your core. Your walls clench tightly around his tongue, a clear sign of your impending orgasm. The way he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud, is driving you wild. You let out a loud moan, the sound echoing throughout the garden. It is raw, uninhibited, and it feels good. Really fucking good. You wrap your legs around his head, squeezing your thighs together slightly, making sure König doesn't move as he devours your pussy like it's his favourite meal. It probably is, or it will be at least.

Feeling your thighs tighten around his head, he continues to lap at your soaked slit, savouring the taste of your arousal. His tongue probes deeper, curling to hit just the right spots. He felt you tense around him, and he knew you were close. With a growl, he increased his efforts, determined to push you over the edge. He wanted to feel you shudder and quiver around his tongue, wanted to hear you scream his name as you came on his face.

And when you did, he drank you in greedily, savouring the sweet release of your orgasm. He'd worked hard for this moment, and damn if it wasn't worth it.

Your body convulses as an intense orgasm rips through you. Your walls clench tightly around nothing, your pussy spasming wildly as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins. König's name slips past your lips in a long, drawn-out moan, echoing through the quiet garden. Your thighs tremble around his head, keeping him close as aftershocks ripple through your core. Panting heavily, you finally loosen your grip on his hair, letting your legs fall open. A satisfied smile graces your lips as you look down at König, his face glistening with your juices.

Watching you come undone under his touch was one of the most satisfying sights he’d ever seen. He licked up every drop of your cum, cleaning you thoroughly before pulling away. As you relaxed beneath him, he stood up slowly, adjusting himself as he towered above you. His cock strained against his pants, throbbing with unspent need. Without wasting another second, he unbuckled his belt, releasing his imprisoned member from its confines. His cock sprang free, fully erect and pulsing with need. It was big, thick, and veiny, promising a rough, brutal fuck.

He didn’t waste any time positioning himself between your spread thighs. Without warning, he thrust forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside your still trembling cunt. You gasp as König thrusts into you, filling you up. The sudden intrusion has you arching off the chair, a sharp cry tearing from your throat. Your walls flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size. You're still sensitive from your recent orgasm, but the pain mixed with pleasure is something else entirely. It's intense, raw, and exactly what you needed.

Feeling your tight walls gripping him so fiercely, he groaned deeply. It was a sound filled with lust, possessiveness, and satisfaction all rolled into one. He started moving immediately, setting a punishing rhythm designed to stretch and fill you. Each thrust was powerful, deliberate, meant to claim you. To brand you. To show everyone who saw you that you belonged to him. He grabbed your hip firmly, holding you steady as he pounded into you. There was no gentleness here, no soft caresses. This was pure, animalistic fucking. And you loved every second of it.

König's grip on your hips is firm, possessive, as he pulls you back onto his cock. You can't help but throw your head back, exposing the delicate column of your neck. Your moans echo through the garden, each one louder than the last. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together. You clutch onto his shirt, making sure he can't pull out. With each thrust, König could feel his climax building. He was close, so fucking close. But he held back, not wanting to finish just yet. 

Instead, he reached down between your legs, finding your clit with his thumb. He began to rub it in small circles, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense experience. His other hand moved to your belly, tracing patterns on your skin as he whispered sweet words in your ear.

"I want you. All of you. Body and soul... I'm going to fill you up until there’s nowhere left for anything else... I’m going to put a baby in you... and then I’m going to marry you... because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you..."

His voice was low, husky with desire. Each word was punctuated by a deep thrust, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes snap open as you hear König's words, those filthy promises. He's planning on trapping you with a child, just as you had planned to do to him. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks - he's playing you at your own game. But as you look into his eyes, you see that he's not doing this for power like you were. No, his intentions are much more intimate.

He's doing this for marriage.

You can't help but smirk at him, your legs still tightly wrapped around his waist. "Why, you naughty boy," you purred, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. But you have no intention of pushing him away. Instead, you tighten your legs around him and snake your arms up around his neck, pulling him in closer. Hearing your response, he growls, feeling his control slipping. The way you tightened around him, your body writhing underneath him, it drove him wild.

The sounds coming from your mouth were music to his ears, driving him further. He slammed into you harder, almost brutally, his large hands gripping your flesh firmly as he fucked you. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing heavy, his eyes darkening even more with desire.

"Fuck... Fuck..." He cursed between thrusts, his voice thick with lust.

Then, without warning, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. The action was possessive, claiming, and utterly primal. It was clear he was losing control, his thrusts becoming erratic, but he wasn't stopping. Not yet.

The bite on your neck sends a jolt straight to your core, causing your walls to clench even tighter around his cock. You let out a strangled cry, your nails digging into his skin as you hold onto him for dear life. Every thrust becomes harder, deeper, faster. Your whole body shakes as another orgasm builds within you, threatening to tear you apart. You can barely think straight, but you manage to mumble out a challenge, "Come on, big guy. Show me how much you want this."

His thrusts became even more forceful, brutal even. He fucked you like an animal, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his release. His large hands gripped your hips painfully, bruising them as he used you roughly. He bit down on your neck again, marking you as his once more. "Show you? I’ll fucking show you." His voice was guttural, laced with lust and possession. Then, without warning, he pulled out of you suddenly, flipping you over onto your stomach before slamming back into you.

His next few thrusts were aimed directly at your cervix, hitting it repeatedly. He wanted to breed you. Now. Here. In the middle of the garden where anyone could see but nobody would dare interrupt. As König flips you over and slams into you, you let out a scream that echoes throughout the garden. The sudden change in position only intensifies the sensations coursing through your body.

Your breasts swing freely with each thrust, bouncing against the chair beneath you. The sensation of being taken from behind, so roughly and aggressively, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously as if trying to match König's relentless pace. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

König grunted loudly as he felt your hand on your pussy, working your clit while he fucked you. The sight of you touching yourself while he was pounding into you from behind, was turning him on more than he’d care to admit. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt his balls tighten, signalling that he was getting dangerously close. A surge of determination washed over him. He needed to cum. He needed to fill you up right now. "I'm going to fuck you raw every day until you're pregnant." His voice was strained.

At König's declaration, you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips. "You better keep your promise," you said breathlessly. Feeling his cock throbbing inside you, knowing that he was about to spill himself deep within your womb, pushed you over the edge. With one final stroke of your clit, you came hard, screaming out loud as your inner walls clenched around him tightly. König groaned as he felt your tight cunt squeeze him like a vice. The sound echoed off the walls of the garden, mingling with your screams. 

His control snapped completely as he felt your orgasm trigger his own. With a few more powerful thrusts, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up to the brim. He groaned deeply, holding onto you tightly as he rode out his orgasm. For several long moments after he finished, he remained inside you, his body trembling slightly from exertion. Then slowly, he withdrew from you, stepping back to admire the mess he'd made. With a satisfied sigh, König looks down at you, panting heavily. His eyes are dark with satisfaction and desire, scanning your body appreciatively. He reaches out, running a finger along your arm before moving lower to admire the bruises he left on your hips.

"You’re mine now." He murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your temple.

COD Masterlist

141 Headcanons

Stickers First Words

Captain John Price

Loving Husband pt 1 Loving Husband pt 2 Loving Husband pt 3

Loving Husband pt 4 Loving Husband pt 5

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Na'vi!Ghost

💋

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

Paperwork

Grey Joggers

Kyle 'Gas' Garrick

Alejandro Vargas

Beautiful

🏍️

Little thief Mi amor

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

I hate you

König

Games

When did fanfiction reviews get so critical? I remember 2014 when you could write 1,000 words in text speak and people would go, “omg ur soooo talented!!!!” But now you put your fully developed shit out and peeps go, “um excuse me, but your concept hasn’t been explored deeply enough.”

I’M SORRY WHAT

Also to add onto this

They can make Tara Bisexual (absolutely love her for this) but can't make Emily a lesbian!?!

Make it make sense

Finally got around to watching Criminal minds season 16 and it was just meh

I mean don't get me wrong I like how the went a different approach with the unsub, spending the whole season to find out who he is

But It just felt bland, the characters didn't feel the same. Garcia just seemed kinda mean, hardly any scenes of Tara and Luke

And Tyler Green?? There wasn't any chemistry between Tyler and Garcia.

What happened to Matt Simmons?? They mentioned him once and that's it??

141 - First Words

So my baby said his first word the other day and mine and my partners reaction was fucking hilarious. Now I can't stop thinking about the 141 reaction to their baby saying Dada for the first time

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish would cry, like ugly tears type crying. No he does not care about the snot coming out of his nose, his precious baby just said Dada. He was on the floor playing with baby MacTavish during tummy time, you were in the kitchen cleaning up after you and Soap decided to bake Making another baby. Baby MacTavish is a chatter box like their daddy, always babbling and Soap answered back to baby MacTavish's very interesting story. Soap didn't hear it at first, he thought it was babbling nonsense until he heard it again. The simple word Dada and he's picking baby MacTavish up and rushing to the kitchen 

Thay said Dada

Soap holding baby MacTavish up like a prize

Fuck off, you're lying (Your baby was growing up too quickly)

Their first word was Dada

Soap was already crying

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick would be shocked, swears he's going deaf because no way baby Garrick is talking already. Gaz was bouncing baby Garrick on his knee, pulling funny faces to hear their belly laugh, you were on Netflix trying to find a movie to watch. You were both were in your own world before baby Garrick screamed then ever so quietly said Dada, you and Gaz's head snapped towards each other as you stared at each other 

Did they -

I think so

Gaz turning to baby Garrick

Did you say Dada? You can't have, you were born like last week

Babe they're 8 months old now 

Nope. Still a wrinkly baby 

Captain John Price would just smile, like a smug smile that baby Price's first word Dada. Make's him feel like he's the favourite parent Not realising that when baby Price is upset you can use the fact they can only say Dada against him "Sorry baby, they want you :)". Knowing Price's luck, baby Price will say Dada when he's at work. As soon as you hear the words you're on the phone ringing Price, he picks up at the first ring scared something happened. When you tell him what happened you best believe he's dropping everything to come home, doesn't matter if he's in a very important meeting with Laswell. Baby Price said Dada, he must go home at once

Price coming home and runs straight past you

See, I'm the favourite parent 

John Baby... That's not how that works-

Price is ignoring you as he's kissing baby Price's cheeks 

I'm gonna buy you anything you want. Just say Dada again. Please

Simon 'Ghost' Riley also cries. He'll cry silent tears as he holds baby Riley to his chest, years ago he never thought he'd have his own family and now he's here. Witnessing his baby's first words. Ghost, being the excellent father he is, basically forced you to finally go out for girls night knowing you needed time to yourself. Ghost couldn't wait for a night of tummy time, playing and just straight up cuddling while watching Bluey. Baby Riley was laid on their daddy's chest, trying to fight sleep but failing miserably and just before baby Riley fell asleep they said Dada as they clutched to Ghost's shirt.

Did you say Dada

Ghost didn't move realising baby Riley is now asleep

God I never thought I'd love anyone more then I love your mummy

Ghost carefully hugs baby Riley tighter 

But then you came into my life. Best thing to ever happy to me and your mummy  

Sooooo I've finally played and finished Dragon Age: Veilguard (I cried so much it's actually not funny). Anyway I've seen a lot of hate towards the game, except for the obvious (Fuck you BioWare), and I wanted to put my two piece in that nobody asked for because I absolutely love Dragon Age and I have put so much time and effort into the games over the years.

I have a lot of pro and cons for the game but some seem nitpicky and just my personal opinion but I am only going to talk about a few things that I feel are important (For my anyway.)

So first things first, the thing that I loved about the game is the fighting style. It did take me a good minute to get use to it because I was so used to playing Inquisition, the thing I liked about the fighting style is:

1: I like that you can switch between 2 weapons which you can't do in the other Dragon Age games (unless you chose rouge) and I like that you can switch between them instantly

2: The fighting style itself. It made me actually feel like I was doing something instead of just holding down one button (Like Inquisition)

Now onto the next thing I love. Making your character. See I'm covered in lots of tattoos and piercings and apart from Cyberpunk I haven't found a game that lets you have facial and body tattoos so when I saw I could cover my Rook in tattoos it made me happy because I could make her look like me. Another thing that I found super important was the pronouns and the option to add top surgery scars. It doesn't apply to me, I'm a woman BUT quiet a few of my friends are Nonbinary or Trans, they like to game but as you know, most games don't have that option so the fact they finally feel. I want to say included (I'm not sure that's the right way to put it) to be able to make their Rook look like them

CLIMBING. ACTUAL FUCKING CLIMBING. In Inquisition there's a quest where you go and find shards and goddamn the amount of times I've tried to climb and fail to get these fucking shards pissed me off (lovingly) so to see you can actually climb makes me happy (Seems stupid I know)

Decisions. You're decisions actually matter!!!! SLIGHT SPOILER!!!!! So on my first playthrough I chose to be a Warden and you go to D'meta's Crossing do what you do and find the Mayor. I chose to save him and send him off to help the Wardens, that was that, didn't think about it much. Fast forward to Lavendel and you have to go and find some missing Wardens, because I chose to save the Mayor he was there to save said missing Wardens

Lastly the thing that just that made me happy was the companion quests. I don't know about anyone else but I did wish they were slightly longer but I love that every companion (In my opinion) got a well thought, decent companion quest. I found that it helped me get to know my companions a bit better

But. And hear me out.

WHY IS THERE NO SMOOTCHIE UPDATE!?!?!?!?!? I want to be able to go to my lover (Emmrich my love) and give them kisses but also I wish that there were more romance scenes.

Anyway that is quick rundown of what I thought about the game.

He is literally my son, I carried him to term