Headcanon: Them As Parents

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents

₊˚ପ⊹ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi

༉‧₊˚. I wrote this while at a party

Ghost

So sweet and gentle around his kids

He holds their tiny hand next to his and chuckles at the size difference

Doesn’t let the kids eat in the car

Once he’d given the kids a sticker pack and then fell asleep on the living room floor

When he woke up his face and back were covered in stickers

Soap

Is a kid himself

Buys the kids questionable gifts

“Johnny, why did you give them firework snappers?”

“It’ll keep ‘em entertained for a while”

“They’re throwing it at the neighbors…”

Snickering “Let them have fun”

Gaz

Tucks the kids into bed

When one of them has a nightmare he’ll insist on getting out of bed to make sure they’ll be alright while you sleep

Will wake up earlier than you to make them waffles and have a cup of coffee/tea warm and ready for you

Cleans up the kids’ play area

Stays on top of their doctor and dental appointments

Takes cute pics of you when you’re holding the kids

Writes endearing love notes and has the kids give them to you

Alejandro

The type to remind their kid how proud they are of them

Encourages the kids to pick up a sport

Constantly shows their kid support

“Échale ganas mijo/mija” or “Ponte las pilas”

He gets protective of the kids when you get mad at them, taking them out for ice cream afterward to assure them they’re still loved

When you’re very stressed and busy he finds a quiet moment to give you a shoulder massage

He also makes sure to remind the kids to appreciate you and the hard work you do taking care of them

Phillip Graves

Makes time on weekends to take the kids to fun places

He prefers road trips over airplane rides

Says it teaches the kids a thing or two about geography

Would want the kids to spend plenty of time outside

(Making sure they touch that grass fr)

If you’re of a different ethnicity than him he would want the kids to learn about their heritage

Keegan

The type to play rough with his kids

If he had a daughter he’d teach her self-defense

He has hair tutorial videos saved to try doing his daughter’s hair for school and for his boys he just whips out some hair gel, slaps it on, and calls it a day

His favorite spot to take the kids on vacation is the beach

Regardless of how spent he is at the end of the day, he’ll make time for the children

Once you walked into the living room to find Keegan in the armchair asleep with the kids resting their heads on his chest or shoulder, you have a pic of it taped on the fridge

König

Ngl I feel like he would be somewhat clueless around kids

He went to the library to pick up books on parenting when he found out you were expecting

He’s over the moon the moment he holds the baby in his arms

“Am I doing it right?”

He turns the tv on intending to keep the kids quiet for a while but he ends up getting into the cartoons while the children wander off

Horangi

Real laid back dad

Buys the kids whatever they want when going to the store

You scold him along with the kids for overspending on candy and toys

When you get on his back for it he’ll nod and keep his head down

“Sorry 자기야, I won’t do it again”

He will do it again

He’ll apologize to you but give the kids a knowing grin behind your back

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

Wifey!Reader trying to surprise visit him at work only to witness how Pushover!König is like at work

You stare at your soft, kind, a bit of a weak husband as he slams the recruit's body to the ground and stomps on them. Twice. Screamed a bit for good measure and then hauled other recruits to get them to the hospital before he got some other lazy ass out in a chair. The recruit missed the training one time and was a bit snarky about it. You're not sure what you were expecting when you married him. A colonel from a mercenary organization is as socially inept as those people can be. You're basically his only social link, barely holding on to dear life as you were trying to convince him to be just a bit less sociopathic. You thought he'd be...fine. Somewhat. A little bit more adjusted than usual. You were not expecting him to yell at someone like that. To know so many ways of belittling someone. And also look hot doing it. Konig, of course, is terrified when he finds out you are here, looking at him like a deer stuck in headlights. He made sure to keep his professional and personal life separate - to always make sure you are getting the best version of him he can give to you. Now, of course, it's kinda pointless. You know this crazed look of his, the cold steel of his eyes as he looked at you, his triumph slowly melting into shock...and you were so fucking aroused it made your stomach twist. A mix of panic and pleasure, your silent desire for him to be the one standing over you, toying with your helpless body as if you were nothing but his helpless little pet. You made sure to ask him to be a bit rougher in bed after this one time. Maybe manhandled you a bit, some dirty words thrown in your direction as you imagined him taking you a bit more forcefully. Your poor soft husband will have to take his work attitude again...and it's not like he doesn't enjoy it.

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I just need willing sexworker reader with Mafia Konig.

He is fighting against the urge to have his lil wifey near bc he knows he will fuck 24/7 and also she would be his weakness. But how can he say no when she begs him so sweetly with his cock inside, when she says a mere thing about how they would be a cute family.

My breeding kink is showing, forgive my manners.

Oh, he can't resist your begging. This man is weak - for you especially, with his mind working overtime just to compensate for all the things he is throwing away to be able to spend a few more hours buried deep in your pussy. You look so fucking precious under him, your body mangled to fit him perfectly - he needs you, wants you, sometimes thinks you're literally just a plant from a rival gang to make him stop working and just fuck you all the time. If you sleep together and you ask him to stay with you during the morning, with that adorable groggy voice of yours, he won't ever be able to resist - and if you want for him to breed your pussy until you're so filled up you can't walk, he will gladly stop whatever he was doing. It started so simple. Konig was your client, paid a bit too much, and always took care of you afterward - if not personally, then by hotel staff and paid nights at the luxurious resorts. You couldn't help but fall for him, even if only for a little bit at the start. You adored his gifts, his compliments, even his obsession and his work - he protected you, started booking all of your sessions to drive clients away, even managed to get you an apartment without any strings attached. Well, without any strings that weren't attached to him, that is. Konig sees you as his reprieve, his little saving grace. He indulges in your body and makes sure you know just how much he adores having you by his side. You're his weakness, and he tells you that it's going to get him killed one day, but if that means keeping you on his lap while dealing with gun deals and the drug trade, he is willing to risk everything. He needs you by his side - if not as a helper, then as stress relief. Konig never cared too much about what was going to happen with his mafia empire after he died, but now he started to think about heirs, legacy, making you pregnant, and then spawning a little army of his kids, ready to take over neighboring countries. You beg him to fuck you so sweetly, he just can't resist. Even if his age means he can't quite go on multiple rounds like he used to at his horny young adult times, he is still going to keep his favourite lady satisfied. And fucked so much, she wouldn't be able to crawl out of the bed next morning, letting him tend to his criminal business.

Good evening, I can't stop thinking about Simon going brain dead as he fucks you :)

Like, just imagine. You're on your elbows and knees as Simon's hitting it from behind, when suddenly you feel something wet land on your back. You know it's not him finishing given the fact that he's still buried deep inside you, so you look back over your shoulder to see what the hell that was you just felt.

And when you turn around, the sight that greets you is one for the ages. There's Simon, eyes unfocused and glazed over, mouth hanging wide open in the most fucked-out expression you've ever witnessed. He looks like he's never had an intelligent thought in his life; like he's been reverted back to a primitive brain, whose only drives are to eat, breathe, and fuck.

As you watch him rut into you like a sex-crazed animal, it's then you spy the source of the mystery liquid dripping onto your back. There, dribbling steadily from Simon's ajar mouth, flows a thick stream of drool. It leads down from his bottom lip in long, viscous ribbons, landing and settling itself along the curve of your spine. If he even notices (which, by the look on his face, he's too far gone for such higher-order thinking processes) then he doesn't care. He just lets his spit pour freely from his open mouth, like some kind of wild beast that's got its eyes locked onto its next meal.

Simon is so mentally checked out that he can't even hear you as you gently say his name. No, all he can think about – all his shriveled little monkey brain can focus on at this moment – is how fucking good you feel around him and how fucking badly he needs to fill you up.

When Simon does finally cum, he can only manage a garbled string of grunts and groans that doesn't even come close to resembling human speech. After three, four, five thrusts as deep into you as possible, his whole body is shaking, and his trembling limbs give out.

He collapses on top of you without a second's consideration of his size, pinning you to the mattress beneath his warm, heavy frame. You can still feel him drooling a little as his face comes to rest in the crook of your neck, the mess on your lower back getting smeared between your bodies.

It's hard for you to breathe being trapped under Simon's weight like that, so you try lightly tapping him on the head to ask him to roll off you. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's no use trying to gain his attention right now. You're going to have to give him a few minutes to collect himself, love.

The poor guy just fucked himself stupid, after all.