kortac-sweetheart

[kortac-sweetheart]

reblog to give your mutuals a djungelskog

[kortac-sweetheart]

[kortac-sweetheart]

Commission: Bastard's Bishop

Hello, hello!! It's been a minute, hasn't it? Here's a commission I did a couple weeks ago for my dear fishstick! I had a blast writing this and learning more about packers!

Please note that I've included some general content tags, specific warnings for intimacy, and lastly, some notes for terminology used for the reader character, Bishop, and his genitalia. All my love <3

Content: FTM reader, obsessive/possessive behavior, mild harassment, dub-con Dub-Con intimacy: thigh-riding, intercrural, unprotected PIV, semi-public, overstim, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, mild size kink Trans Man Reader terminology: cock/clit semi-interchangeably, cunt, hole, he/him pronouns and endearments, reader has a packer

divider by user: gildui

You narrow your eyes as your back twinges for the third time today, grip tightening on your mop handle.

It’s been like this all week, a tight pinch somewhere between your spine and your right hip. A deep ache that no amount of stretching or heat packs has soothed thanks to the demands of your job. Repeatedly stooping to pick up trash, move furniture, and clean floors tends to undo most of the rest and recovery you achieve in your off hours.

Still, after being out all of last week, your PTO is running a bit thin, and you can’t afford to take more. KorTac’s employment package is good – but not that good.

You pause long enough to take a deep breath, willing the muscles to relax.

The clock on the wall reads late afternoon – not much longer now. Just this last hallway (all admin offices and conference rooms) and you’ll be done. Most of the operators have left already at least. In and out of base early, leaving you to clean up after them, when you’re not at risk of hearing any confidential information.

You’re glad for the solitude today, not quite up for polite half-smiles you sometimes get when you accidentally make eye contact. You’d much rather just put your head down and do your job – the sooner you can crack open that bottle of paracetamol in your locker.

All around, it hasn’t even been a bad day, apart from your sore back. You got in on time, your boss is out with appendicitis, and the bane of your existence hasn’t made an appearance at all this week. Lisa in accounting mentioned he’s away on a mission, so hopefully you won’t have to deal with him for—

“Daydreaming on the job, Schatz?”

You jump at the gruff voice next to your ear, headphones slipping down to your collarbones. A startled curse mangled in your throat as you brain catches up, recognizing the gravel-on-stone accent rumbling too close for comfort.

Already scowling, you turn on your heel, face-to-mask with green netting and broad shoulders.

As always, Krueger’s obscured features bring you up a bit short, mouth popping open for a sharp remark your brain lags to provide. Bastard.

“I’m not daydreaming,” you end up huffing. Try to sound clipped, despite the thumping of your heart, but it comes out sullen. Close enough.

“It is okay, I will not tell anyone,” he leers, “as long as you were daydreaming about me.”

The worst part is that you kind of were. Maybe not the way he means – this time, anyway – but close enough to the truth that you feel your face growing warm despite yourself.

“You’re delusional,” you scoff, turning away. You scrub harder than necessary at the linoleum, trying to work out the frustrating mix of irritation and intrigue that Krueger inspires in you.

As always, he fails to take the hint.

“What, you did not miss me while I was gone?” he mocks.

From the corner of your eye, you can see him shifting closer. Too close. Far past politeness and skirting rude, damn near crowding.

It makes you all too aware of the slight angle you’re bent at, pushing your ass out. Thankfully, the baggy fit of your khakis obscures any suggestive shape, providing modesty you shouldn’t need while doing janitorial work.

“You were gone?” you reply, flat. As if you didn’t feel a conflicted pang in your chest when you realized you’d have a few peaceful, uninterrupted days.

He simpers, “I missed you last week. Where did you go, hm?”

His audacity almost coaxes a disbelieving laugh from your tongue. Intimidating and oddly charismatic as he can be, you’re not about to abide him being so blatantly nosy. You’ve already learned this lesson with Krueger – give an inch and he’ll take miles and miles before you even realize what you’ve done.

That’s how you ended up with him calling you “Schatz” so casually.

“None of your business,” you reply.

“You were sick, no?” he continues as if you haven’t spoken. His voice drops to a near purr, “You should have called, I would take such good care of you, Liebling.”

You stiffen, eyes tellingly wide. How the hell does he know that? And why?

It’s the one question that nips at your mind every time he interacts with you – the why of it all. You don’t get it. He’s one of KorTac’s best soldiers, dangerous and competent and funny for all he’s an arrogant prick. You’ve seen plenty of other KorTac employees flirting and checking him out. He’s not hurting for romantic or sexual prospects.

So why the fuck does he ever spend time on you? Teasing you, baiting you? You, the grumpiest of the janitors with chipped nail polish and the baggy clothes and the giant headphones that practically scream “leave me the fuck alone.” Why does he always seek you out?

You don’t trust the answer. It prods at uncomfortable, hurtful suspicions that you refuse to entertain, so you just try not to think about it at all.

Instead, you feel genuine irritation flare in your chest and clutch onto it, pushing away any fondness-born vulnerability aside. You dunk the mophead hard into the bucket, a soapy droplet landing on his scuffed black boots.

“I don’t need taking care of,” you snip back. “Especially not from you.”

It’s the sharpest you’ve ever been with him.

There’s a single, stony beat where you realize this is not the time or man to let your temper get the better of you.

You can feel his gaze boring into you through the netting. You’ve seen him without it before, know that his eyes are dark as obsidian shards and just as sharp. Can already imagine them narrowed, his jaw tense. You peer at him from the corner of your eye, feel your breath catch when his hand starts to reach for you…

“Hey, Bishop?”

You jolt once again. Know your eyes are way too big when you whip around, looking past Krueger to the doorway. One of your coworkers is there, poking their head around the frame and blissfully oblivious to the… well, to whatever this situation is.

“Would you mind helping me move a shelf? Someone dropped their coffee behind it.”

You damn near fling the mop aside, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you realize just how alone you’ve been with Sebastian Krueger of all people.

“No problem,” you reply, eye twitching when your voice cracks a bit.

You don’t dare glance over your shoulder as you flee like a hunted rabbit. You already know Krueger will be staring after you.

You sigh as you swallow the last of your lukewarm water, easing the paracetamol tabs down your esophagus. Your locker is open just to your right, sparse and bland, but functional. Your casual clothes are waiting, half-folded on the little shelf inside. Mostly clean, still baggy, but a lot more comfortable than your khakis and polo.

Finally, you think, kicking your work shoes off to begin changing.

A flicker of movement is your only warning.

A hand darts past your head, slamming your locker shut with a clang that echoes in the empty lavatory. You yelp and spin around, only to be pushed back against cold, unforgiving metal. Krueger looms over you, nothing but a dark shadow beyond that green netting. Big and intimidating and here.

“What—”

He shushes you, quiet and drawling. Like he’s got all the time in the world. A shiver races down your spine and pools low in your gut.

“You seem to be using your words poorly today, Schatz,” he says, barely more than a rumble in his chest. “Perhaps you should stop using them, hm? Before I find a nicer use for your mouth.”

And you hate that your voice dries up, throat parched despite the half liter you chugged just a moment ago. He plants his other hand beside your head, caging you in. You’re dismayed to realize escape didn’t even occur to you before the option was revoked.

“We are friends, Bishop, no?”

You don’t dare answer. He doesn’t wait for one.

“As your friend, I worry that you work too much. This is why you were sick, you see? It is no good to work so hard all the time. No breaks, no rest.”

He speaks so casually, treating this like a normal conversation with an actual friend. But there’s no missing the edge in his voice, something predatory lurking between consonants and vowels. You heart claws at your ribcage, prey trying to escape a trap it can’t see.

“What is that English saying? ‘All work, no play,’ something like that?” He shrugs, and in doing so, sways closer.

He feels like a furnace without even touching you, making you flushed, sweaty. The scent of gunpowder peppers the heated sliver of air between your bodies, ready to ignite. You try to raise your hands, urge some distance. Overwhelmed by his proximity.

In one swift, yet almost lazy movement, he captures both of your wrists in one big, gloved hand. Pins them firmly over your head. You gasp and try to tug free, to no avail. While not painful, his grip is vicelike, unwavering. Tucking you neatly out of his way.

“Without proper rest, we become mean to our friends.” You shudder as his free hand begins tracing leisurely down your neck, over your bobbing throat. Even with the tactical glove on, his touch is deceptively light, almost ticklish. “You were so mean today, mein Prinz, when I was only trying to be a good friend.”

His fingers trail lower, down to the center of your chest, where he can surely feel your heart pounding. Your breath catches as his attention moves sideways and you realize his goal.

“Kreuger—”

He clicks his tongue as you start to squirm, as much a warning to you as part of his speech.

“Lucky for you, I am a very good friend.”

An embarrassed noise squeaks out of you as his index finger loops around your nipple, already tight and hard against the stiff fabric of your shirt. Little sparks of electricity crackle through your body, lighting up your nerves.

“I will take care of you as I should have when you were ill.”

This is his idea of sick care?! you think frantically, as mean fingers pinch your nipple through your shirt.

Another noise gets caught on the back of your tongue, a high-pitched whimper that you barely manage to swallow down.

“K-Krueger—” you cut yourself off with a whine as his tugs and then releases, swiping his thumb back and forth over the sensitive peak. The friction makes you tender in seconds, knees nearly buckling. “Th-this isn’t funny…”

He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment until you’re throbbing in your boxers. You feel dizzy and needy, horrifically aroused and not even sure if you want to be. Your nipples are going to be sore if he doesn’t stop; they already ache just the way you like but somehow, maddeningly, he never crosses the line into rough.

“I am not laughing,” he replies, dead serious.

You want to say a million different platitudes – all those cheesy lines you usually snort at in romances. Knock it off, this isn’t a joke, you don’t scare me, you can drop the act.

Because you know he won’t, it isn’t, you are, and he’s not.

“Krue – ah!”

“What is my name, Liebling?” he nearly growls. You shudder, ducking your head. But he just follows, the hood brushing your flushed cheek. You’ve never felt more like prey. “You do not call your friends by their last names.”

“S-Sebastian…”

He practically purrs, drawing a heart around your areola with the tip of his thumb. “Good boy.”

You clench around nothing, hole aching, devastatingly empty. Arch into his touch before you realize you’re doing it, needing something, anything.

“You deserve a treat, hm?” he chuckles.

The hand on your chest disappears beneath his hood. Through the weave, you see a flash of white teeth. The rip of Velcro is loud in the otherwise empty locker room. You’re so, so lucky that you waited until the rest of your coworkers went home before changing – you don’t think Krueger would have a problem doing this in front of them…

That train of thought (that definitely doesn’t make your cock pulse) is cut off when Krueger’s hand slithers beneath your shirt. His bare hand.

You moan as his hot, rough palm smooths up your heaving ribs, right back to your sensitized nipples. He twists and pinches and plucks at them, ruthless and relentless. You didn’t think it could get any more intense, but it’s like he’s unravelling your self-control with those clever, cruel fingers. Every bitten off noise and aborted twitch of pleasure just spurs him on, a soldier on a mission.

A particularly sharp squeeze makes your hips jerk, banging back against the metal. You’ve tipped your hand again.

He bullies his thigh between yours and presses it tight against your slick, throbbing core. Your packer presses just right against your clit, sending pleasure rocketing up your spine. There’s no stopping you from rocking down against the thick muscle, chasing after more.

“There we go,” he coos, voice so deep now that it rattles in your cloudy head. “You just needed to be taken care of it, is that it?”

You bite your lip, but it doesn’t stop you from whining, horrified that you’re not more pissed off by his condescending tone. Worse, you’re getting off on it, humping his leg like a horny teenager.

“My sweet little Prinz,” he continues, “mein Shatz. Working so hard all the time.”

You whimper, trembling with the pleasure burning in your veins. Already close, that coil grows tight in your abdomen, pitching your voice up higher and higher, louder and louder. Don’t think you could pull yourself away now even if he let you, too focused on riding his thigh. Just that little bit harder, that little bit faster…

“Are you going to cum for me, Liebling?” he croons. “Do it, show me what a sweet boy you are.”

You fall over the edge with a shout, crumpling against his chest. Shuddering and twitching, panting into his shoulder. It feels like he’s everywhere, all you can see and smell and feel.

“S-stop,” you yelp when he tweaks your oversensitive nipple again. “Too much, Sebastian…”

He tuts sympathetically, giving your side a surprisingly comforting squeeze, before withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt.

“There, are we feeling like a better friend now?” he hums, lowering your arms.

You take a deep breath, trying to assemble anything like coherent words from the scramble of your brain.

Before you can, the world spins. You blink, staring uncomprehendingly at the flaky grey paint of the locker you were just leaning against.

“Wha…?”

“Time to be a good friend in return, little one.”

You don’t even have a chance to wonder what he means. You can feel him pressing against your lower back, hot and thick and dripping. A pathetic noise eeks out from your throat as you brace your hands against the lockers.

“What are you going to…?”

You gasp again as he jerks your hips back sharply, a big hand between your shoulder blades to keep your chest pressed to the lockers. The cool sensation is heavenly on your sore nipples, but it doesn’t stop the nervous alarms ringing in your mind at the suggestive angle.

He hums, thumb caressing the dimples at the bottom of your spine.

“I have been stressed too, you know. My best friend was mean to me today.”

Your nails scrape against the metal as he tugs your pants and underwear halfway down your slick thighs. He whistles lowly, a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. You glance down and groan in mortification – the fabric of your boxers is absolutely drenched, clinging obscenely to your skin and the ridges of your packer.

“All this for me… such a good little Hase.”

You can tell he’s growing impatient now, though, because he doesn’t waste time teasing. You moan softly as his cock glides between the slick, sticky folds of your cunt. The bulbous tip skates along your own, still twitching with aftershocks and not at all prepared to be touched again so soon.

You whimper and try to jolt away but Krueger’s hands clamp down on your hips and rock you into the cradle of his own. He groans low and rough as he glides through your wetness, arching your spine to give himself a better angle to frot.

“So soft,” he mumbles, “such a good boy for me, I knew you would feel so good. Just had to show you how to behave. Shatz, my Shatz.”

You keen softly, find yourself squeezing your thighs together, giving him a tighter channel to fuck into. He’s so hot against you; you think you can feel drips of precum glossing your cock, the head of his dick catching on your hole when he pulls back too far. It’s tantalizing and thrilling, you don’t know if you want it or not anymore, and justify that he’s holding you too tight to escape anyway.

It shouldn’t be this easy, you think desperately as the flames of a new orgasm ignite from embers of the first. You’re too sensitive, too overstimulated, too—

“You’re going to cum for me again anyway,” he growls, and you realize you’ve been babbling all of that out loud.

Fuck.

It’s not a choice – it never was. He’s going to make you cum again and you’re drooling for it. You loosen your hips and spine, rock freely back into the urging of his hands. His hips pick up speed, settle into a rhythm better than any toy or vibrator you’ve ever played with (always thinking guiltily of him).

The next orgasm practically sneaks up on you. Building up until it’s spilling over all at once, ricocheting through you like a stray bullet. You damn near lock up with the shock and pleasure of it, but Krueger doesn’t let you, rubbing his cock against you until your knees buckle.

“No more games, Liebling,” he snarls.

He practically rips your pants and underwear the rest off the way off, leaving them in a puddle on the ground. A thick arm slithers around your waist, hauls you over to the locker room bench. Krueger drops onto it and drags you into his lap.

You catch yourself on his broad shoulders, staring wide-eyed at his cock jutting proudly between you two. It curves towards his stomach an angry red. Gleaming under the fluorescent lights with your slick, a pearl of it pooled right under the head, oozing down a pulsing vein.

Your mouth waters, but he doesn’t make good on his promise to use your mouth.

Instead, he scoops you up with a hand beneath your ass, the other wrapping around the wide base. Your fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt as you resist, whimpering nervously.

“It’s not going to fit, Sebastian!” you complain.

“It will, it will,” he soothes, “you are a big boy, you can take it…”

It’s not a choice, you think again, as he notches the fat head at your entrance.

You’re in no condition to hold yourself up in defiance. Not at your best, and not now when you’re already shaky and kitten weak on two orgasms, with even a fraction of Krueger’s considerable strength lowering you.

It stings.

You whimper and whine, bowing towards him, trying to relax. He coos and soothes with absent, sugary whispers until the head pops in. With his newly freed hand, he tugs the hood up to his nose and guides you into a wet, filthy kiss. You’re desperate for the distraction, licking the taste of iron and cigarette from his sharp canines.

With you distracted, you don’t notice his hand sneaking down again until his thumb is massaging your clit. You nearly jump out of your skin, only kept in place by his quick reflexes and unyielding strength.

“Hush, little one,” he murmurs against your jaw, “I am helping. Let me play with your pretty cock.”

You moan into his mouth as he works circles into that swollen bundle of nerves. It eases the discomfort of his cock sliding into you until you drop that last, mind-blowing inch and he’s bottomed out.

“Fuck, Schatz,” he groans, head tilting back, mouth parted.

You squeeze around him, so full it feels like he’s in your throat. He’s still rubbing your clit, making your walls pulse around him with every delicious swipe of his thumb.

“Come now, time to bounce, Hase.”

Despite his words, he’s the one bouncing you up and down, your legs barely able to support your weight. You could swear you feel every ridge and vein of the cock stretching you and it’s too much for your fucked out brain. All you can do is hold onto him, tears pricking your eyes. You’re not even upset when you feel his tongue licking them from your cheeks, can only shove your tongue in his mouth to get a taste.

He twitches up to meet your hips on the next thrust and you go cross-eyed at the angle – too good too goodtoogood.

You’re begging and whining, completely gone on ecstasy, grinding down on his lap every time you drop down. It’s loud and wet, something out of your dirtiest dreams. He’s fucking against your g-spot, bullying it, abusing it, and you can’t get enough, rolling your hips with each movement.

“I-I’m gonna, I’m gonna—”

“Milk my cock, scream for me, that’s it.”

And you do, shuddering and squeezing so tight around him that he makes a rough, punched out noise. He doesn’t stop as wave after wave washes over you, until you finally wail his name and go limp. Buried deep inside you, he cums without remorse in long, hot spurts against your walls.

In the aftermath, you’re panting and sweaty. Utterly ruined. Brain not quite online due to three back-to-back orgasms from a man who could probably kill you with two fingers. He’s mumbling in your ear, stroking your back. It’s almost pleasant. Maybe he isn’t so bad…

“Now, then. We will go to dinner like a proper couple.”

What happened to being friends?!

[kortac-sweetheart]

the amount of ppl you've made me simp for when I previously hadn't could honestly earn me the name simp anon at this point, bc I had liked all the characters but post finding your blog now I love them. adoration anon or something I dunno but just UGH

being so dense and so happy that oh! clearly they're friendly! they're friends yay! so so so late to the party bc they're drowning in love for you and how dense you are only makes it worse for them in every way, and it would hurt them so bad to see how hesitant and skittish you are, thinking clearly they wouldn't like you like that, so they'll just have to show you that theirs are flames that never burn out <3

think of how proud they'd be when you finally have the courage to start reaching back for them, or especially grasping for them first :(

(just doing my job nonnie 🫡)

god yeah, you think they’re joking until suddenly you wake up one day, trapped between them, swaddled in their clothes and your toothbrush alongside theirs in the cup on the bathroom counter like that’s how life always was

i think they’d try to get you into their relationship separately at first, but you’re always averted eyes and sweaty hands when either of them tries to be affectionate towards you like “what if i’m intruding? aren’t you already with simon/gary? is this a joke?”

and they’re desperate to show you that, no, they BOTH want you. and so the both of them confess at the same time, that yes, they want you, yes, the both of them do. and no, it’s not a joke, their feelings for you are never something to joke about.

and it takes a huge effort but yes, you’re finally in and god, they do not let up with their affections for you.

usually they’re the one pulling you to sit/be cuddled between them but one day right before post-op debrief you pull either of them by their hands to the meeting room before muttering, “do you— do you wanna sit with me?”

and before you could even finish saying “me” they’re already moving, gently leading you to sit between them. they wish so badly you all weren’t stuck in a boring debrief because they need to kiss you and hug you so bad!!!!!

immediately after debrief ends they’re immediately dragging you away (much to cpt mactavish’s amusement) to cuddle and kiss you in your room.

trapped under their loving gazes and kisses as they reward you for reaching out first, it feels so safe, so warm and loving in between them, and you find yourself believing all their words and affections.

(it becomes a positive feedback loop, the more love you give them, the more love they reward you with, cue cycle.)

[kortac-sweetheart]

eating out your cunt like it's my safe food (autism rizz)

[kortac-sweetheart]

me greeting everyone with all the joy i can muster

[kortac-sweetheart]

😩 oh to be snuggled between 09 Ghost and Roach knowing nothing and no one can get you

it took soooo long for them to patiently coax their love into their arms and now they'll never let them go 👏 worried? about overstepping? intruding? being unwanted or abandoned or just a fling? hiding that fear to keep from worrying them? it'll allll be better soon enough bc they're simply holding on with no intention of so much as loosening their grip, they're ride or die and they'll show you every day how you're theirs and they're yours

I didn't think I was gonna simp for them today, I thought it was purely a Nikto day, but now it's a Nikto and 09 Ghost and Roach day 🙏

yes yes YES!!!! you get it nonnie they’re holding onto you like there’s no tmr because in their line of work? there very well might not be!!

yesterday’s missed chances for love becomes tomorrow’s regrets so there’s just no point in with holding their love from you at all

ohh them trying so SO hard to get you into their relationship but you’re so insecure and withdrawn, nearly scared of love because it’s unfamiliar territory and they’re the metaphorical deep end of love to you. but to be love is to be known baby so you just gotta go for it!!!! oh not to mention you also somehow read their advances as friendly instead of romantic 😭

they love you so much but god, you’re a dense brick wall when it comes to love, they just want to love on you damnit!!!

(also im giggling im so happy my writing is like a breadcrumb trail to make someone simp for my faves too teehee)

[kortac-sweetheart]

i can’t write this out fully yet but i love the idea of 09 ghost and roach pulling you into their relationship, slowly coaxing you into it like a stray cat

like i think that you’d be surrounded by so much love, you’ll never be left wanting for love and affection with those two around you. always snuggled up between then when sleeping or sitting or doing whatever.

just imagine the both of them pressing a kiss to your cheek at the same time 🥹 “our baby, our darling” before they squish you in a hug between them

hmm a/b/o dynamic with them could also be fun too, alpha ghost, beta roach and omega you

i think ghost would smell like earl grey/twinge of gun powder and something very woody and soothing

roach… magnolia flower/lemonade or candied lemons and a peel of white chocolate

idk i just think that those two would be super big softies for you, ghost even more so than roach bc while roach is easily able to express his affections in public, ghost is more heavy handed in private. i think you’d be super duper happy with those two

[kortac-sweetheart]

Do you write yanderes? because I'd love a yandere Konig x reader

i haven't written anything outright yandere but i'll give it a try!

yandere!konig that acts a little more pathetic than usual around you. he's self aware, being nearly 7ft and 250+ pounds doesn't make the most comforting person to be around. and so he acts like a dog, figuratively (and sometimes literally) rolling over to show you his stomach in an attempt to disarm any fear you might have of him.

he hunches over a bit so he's not as tall when he's around you, tucks his limbs close to him in an effort to make his size less intimidating. he doesn't make you look up at him to talk to him either, as soon as you open your mouth he's bending down to hear you better. (and it serves as an excuse to smell whatever fragrance you've put on that day)

normal konig already has a penchant for staring i think, but with him as a yandere the habit would be even worse. it's like the feeling of prey being stalked as you flit about the room, settling heavily like a constant weight on your back. he hasn't done anything outright to give you a reason to be scared but there's always something a little more sinister hiding behind that gentle and kind veneer.

yandere!konig that doesn't necessarily push you into a relationship with him but the constant (expensive) gifts, soft compliments and favors don't help. he sort of, maybe or maybe not inadvertently guilt trips you into being his partner.

his behavior continues well past you've started dating too, he just likes to spoil you too actually. and it always leaves him feeling like a prideful bird when you wear the things he bought you. (he gave you a bracelet that matches the one in his arachnid skin, you wear it everyday and only take it off to sleep or else he will pout at you.)

he never EVER brings you around base, ever. he doesn't want any of those other dogs getting ideas of taking you from him. (he'd rather not be forced to do some...cleaning up, rather than spending time with you.)

the way that he gets you to marry him is very much the same way you got together in the first place. with a plethora of gifts, among spending time doing whatever you want as well, the ring he bought the same day he became your partner now being put into good use.

he always treats you so well doesn't he? caring and providing for you, what use is there to go to someone else when he's right there? he can do whatever you want, wherever, whenever, just don't go to someone else.

the immediate day after your marriage, he retires from being colonel. you're married now after all, it's much safer to be at home to take care of you than it is to potentially leave you widowed all alone, yes?

i think the more "secure" he is in his relationship with you the more lax he becomes actually. you don't really have any options to run to outside of him, not that you'd really need to with all that he provides for you, so he just doesn't see the point in being authoritarian about you and whatever you decide to do.

although he does get a good reminder about the true depth of his love for you... in the form of a stupid leering man trying to hit on you. don't worry schatzi, he just has to attend to something quickly, he'll be back just as soon.

and when he does?

just don't look too hard at the fresh coat of blood on his knuckles.

[kortac-sweetheart]

THE KRUEGER IS SO CUTE!!

that was so fast my goodness, thank you sweet anon!!! <3 <3

[kortac-sweetheart]

pov: you are nikto and it's a month and three days past valentines day

[kortac-sweetheart]

Hi there. I was thinking about sending you a request. But I would like to ask if there are anything that you are unwilling to write or make you feel uncomfortable?

hi! thanks for asking, nothing is really off limits as long as it isn't too extreme, like explicit suicide and EDs and stuff like that. also, i don't feel confident enough to write for requested nsfw, so just keep it fluffy! but other than that, none that i can really think of. so send away!

[kortac-sweetheart]

intro & masterlist☆～（ゝ。∂）

GIF by shadow0-1

i'm leon, i'm 19 and i love to write! (MDNI i write 18+ sometimes)

asks: OPEN

requests: OPEN (kortac and keegan only)

i write for:

KORTAC:

nikto

krueger

konig

horangi

oni

velikan

SPECGRU:

ghost

roach

soap

MISC:

keegan

MASTERLIST:

fluff -> ☆

angst -> ☾

suggestive/nsfw -> ♡

yandere -> ♪

leashed (krueger and nikto x reader) ☆

plot bunny: casual intimacy (krueger and nikto) ☆♡

pinned under nikto's weight ☆

public transport w/ nikto and krueger ☆

valentine's day special (krueger and nikto)☆

a/b/o what they smell like (ramble) w/ nikto and krueger ☆

plot bunny: boyfriend tax w/ krueger (ft nikto)☆

thirsting over nikto #1 ♡

prince/ss treatment w/ krueger and nikto ☆

nikto keeps you warm ☆

super duper affectionate johnny and you☆

roach cant handle allat ♡

we'll take care of you/it's rotten work (krueger and nikto)☆

traitor!141 au, reader has different trauma response PT1 ☾

traitor!141 au, diff trauma response, loved by kortac FIN ☆☾

nikto eats burgers like a FREAK ♡

nikto is dtf ♡

thirsting over nikto #2 ♡

snow leopard hybrid nikto and snowshoe hare you ☆

sweet dessert drabbles (krueger, nikto, simon, johnny, roach) ☆

jasmine was your favorite flower w/ nikto ☆☾

kodiac bear hybrid nikto and green mamba hybrid krueger ☆

self indulgent drabbles w/krueger, nikto, simon, johnny, roach ☆

nikto likes your real smile ☆

nikto hunts you in the woods ♡

special wedding anniversary gift from nikto ☆

nikto's favorite color is yellow ☆

horangi is your #1 hypeman ☆

relationships are give and take ♡

your dog nikto ☆

nikto and waterfront watching ☆

sweet and silly dessert thoughts pt2. (horangi, oni, keegan, velikan) ☆

hybrid kortac thoughts ☆

soon to be husband nikto ☆

rifle practice with nikto ♡

nikto w/ cuteness agression ☆

casual intimacy with roach ☆

kortac possessiveness (traitor 141 au) ☆

yandere konig thoughts ♪ ☆

09 ghost and roach poly relationship thoughts ☆

divider cred: @/kodaswrld @/notaorbital @/nicodefresas

[kortac-sweetheart]

[kortac-sweetheart]

Writing tags under posts has the same energy as drawing a dick on your school desk and hoping the next fifth-grader finds it funny

[kortac-sweetheart]

[kortac-sweetheart]

happy nikto thirst tuesday everyone

MDNI 18+

cw intense yearning and dry humping, knight nikto

yeah im thinking abt grinding yourself against his codpiece, and you can’t see his face through his helmet but you can just feel his searing gaze locked onto your own face as you grind against it.

his hands, the metal plating of his gauntlets audibly clicking from his movements, hands tensing and unclenching, grabbing onto the bed sheets before hovering over your hips and then returning to the bed sheets again.

he knows he shouldn’t indulge you but when you look at him so sweetly like that, desperate and longing and adoring at him of all people, who is he to say no?

he can only resist temptation for so long after all, he’s just a man.

but through his internal struggles, he lies flatly on the bed, unmoving. your whines and mewls stop, staring at him sadly.

“do you not want this anymore? we can—“ his hands shoot to your hips and they move your hips themselves. he’d rather be struck down on the spot than to ever again bear witness to that disheartening look aimed at him.

there’s that breathy moan he’s come to adore. let him hear you, feel you, the sweetest fruit he’s ever had the privilege to taste.

he may serve under the crown, but he swore fealty to you and you alone. your every wish is his command.