#Kim Horangi hong-jin x reader

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Threesomes

Requested: No

Warnings/Additional Tags: GN!Reader, Smut, Threesomes, Anal, Oral (M receiving), light choking, Implied polyam relationships, Fingering, Voyeurism, Biting

A/N: I need to be sedated, I spaced out for 2 seconds then suddenly I had a thousand words.

Gaz & Price

“Tha’s it, Love. Taking it so well.” Gaz pants, head buried in the crook of your neck, hands gripping at your hips so tight that it hurt a little bit. “Just….Just a little more.” He tells you, carefully sliding his cock in the slightest inch more, sending your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“Can’t.” You say, digging your nails into his biceps, clinging to him for dear life, teary eyes darting behind him to look into the deep ocean blue of Price’s gaze. “T-Too much.”

“Nonsense.” The older man grunts, and you could feel the way he humped harder into Kyle, your boyfriend choking on a gasp, twitching above you so hard you were almost worried, a string of drool slipping off his lips and splattering onto your chest, making you jump. “You’ve taken it before, you’ll take it again.”

“M-might help if you go just a little slower.” Kyle says, yelping when his words earned him a heavy handed smack to the ass, Price’s big hand squeezing the now tender skin to prolong the initial sting, thumb pulling aside the cheek so his superior could look down and see where his cock was disappearing into Gaz’s hole.

“I know what’s best, for both of you.” Price grunts, his free hand going to wrap loosely around your throat, both you and Gaz’s eyes going glassy when he does, blunt nails scraping against your skin. “We do things my way, or no way.”

A resounding “yes, sir.” was all you both could say in return.

Ghost & Soap

“So pretty, Love.” Soap cooed in your ear, warm hands rubbing at your hips, his knees spreading your legs open wide, your back to his chest and his dripping cock rubbing against your ass as Ghost’s lubed up fingers work you open, scissoring the thick digits inside your warm opening. “Taking his fingers so well, can’t wait to see you take his cock.”

You whimper at his words, feeling them burn through you like a heat flash, settling thick and sticky in your lower belly. Your pathetic sounds combined with your little squirms seemed to amuse Simon, if the smirk on what little of his face you could see was any indication.

“If they’ll be able to take my cock.” He snorts, a hint of amusement in his voice, curving his fingers inside you to stroke at a particularly sensitive area inside of you. “Having a hard time even taking just these two fingers, and my cock is so much bigger.” He teases, free hand going down to wrap around his cock, stroking it slowly before squeezing it at the base, your eyes glued to the scene with hunger.

“Ach, now you’re just underestimating them.” Johnny says, letting you feel the smile on his face as he presses his lips to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick the sweat dripping down your jugular. “Sweet thing like this, they’ll take it just fine. Just need a little extra work to open em up.” He says, trailing a hand over your belly and down between your legs, slipping in one of his fingers right between Simon’s, gripping your hip tighter when you try to arch them up, your head dropping back to rest on his shoulder. “I know, Love. It’s a lot to take, but you’ll take it. You’ll take all of us and beg for more. I promise.”

Horangi & König

“Shit, you’re tight.” König huffed above you, teeth bared in a snake that would be terrifying in any other situation, just like the hand he had clasped around your neck, feeling his co-worker’s cock plow into your gullet, a wet “shlick”ing sound echoing from not just between your legs but from your mouth as well, he’d love to see the tears he know are escaping your eyes, but frustratingly was unable to with how far back your head was tilted. You were probably getting light headed, he hoped you wouldn’t pass out again. “How’s their mouth feel?”

“Like Heaven.” Horangi grunted, eyes hazy with lust, leaned forward with his forehead resting against König’s shoulder, sharp teeth nipping at his flesh, narrowly avoiding drawing blood. “Wet, tight, h-heaven.” He stutters, grabbing at König’s hip, digging blunt nails into him to try and avoid cumming just from the way your throat pulsed around him.

“Yeah?” König cooed, rubbing his thumb over the vague outline of Horangi’s cock, searching for the sensitive head while he used his other hand to play with your pebbled nipples, occasionally pinching and pulling at them harshly just to make you squeal, the sounds vibrating up Horangi’s cock and making his eyes roll back, his hips jerking harder and faster, chasing his fast approaching orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it. So good.” Hong-Jin groaned, tilting his head back when König started to mouth at his pale neck in return, sucking and biting til a dark bruise was sure to be left, settling his hands on your sides, drifting them down to your thighs and kneading at your flesh. “Make ‘em cum, prince. Want to feel how tight they’ll squeeze me when they’re overridden with pleasure.”

Alejandro & Rudy

“Slower.” Alejandro purred beside you, swirling a glass of mezcal before tipping it back to take a gulp, his eyes burning through you the whole time as you struggled to keep an even pace on Rudy’s lap, thighs slick with sweat and shaking from exertion. The new pace somehow even more torturous than before, even with your lover’s hands firmly on your hips and his lips trailing along your jaw.

“Good. Doing so good, Tesoro.” Rudy mumbled against your skin, his breathing heavy before his tongue darts out to lick a thick line across your throat, thumbs digging into your hips lines. “I know it’s hard but you’re doing great, just keep listening to Alejandro.”

You nod more out of instinct than actual understanding, lust inebriating you more than any alcohol, leaving you sticky and pliant between the two of them, a little puppet with your strings wrapped around their fingers.

“Bite them.” Was Alejandro’s next order, less than half a second before Rudy dug his teeth into your shoulder, making you let out a long whine that you tried to muffle by burying your mouth into Rudy’s hair, only to be met by a loud ‘tch’ and Alejandro’s stern voice snapping at you. “No no no, stop that.” He said, clicking his fingers to get your attention. “You don’t get to muffle those pretty noises of yours. I want to hear them loud and clear, Angel. Try to do that again and I’ll have to find another way to preoccupy that mouth of yours.”

[batwritings]

Words of Affirmation

I saw a tiktok from someone named ColonelCakez as König and their caption read how to some, König is a character in a video game. But to them and many others, he's a comfort. I got to thinking about my own mental state, how down I've been about recent events in my personal life and how I'd love to hear comforting words from these characters that hold such a special place to me and many more. So here are a few words from CoD characters that you may need to hear. I may do one for Obey Me and even the DSMP if people want it. :) Please remember how special and loved you really are. Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon "Ghost" Riley "Are you going to spend all your time moping or are you going to do something about it?" You look up to Ghost who slowly sits on the steps beside you, his more casual mask loose on his face. "I...don't know how," you mumble, watching the rain fall to the ground. "But you know there's something you can do. Pick a spot, the easiest spot, and start there."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish "Easy mate, take a breather," Soap tells you, both hands firm on your shoulders. "Now look at me. It's not all gonna get fixed right now. But it will. The world's not going to explode from a few mistakes. Take my word on that one aye?"

John Price "Quite bottling it up," Price's voice is soft, a fatherly hand on your head. "The more you bottle, the worse the aftermath will be. Let it out yeah?" He holds you firmly as you cry into his shoulder.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick "I know what it's like to feel like the world is falling around you, away from you," Gaz says quietly, sitting next to you in the barracks. "But only if you let it. You have the strength to break your fall and get back on your feet. I've seen you do it before, you can do it again."

König "You need to give yourself more credit meine liebe," König kneels in front of you, holding your hands with such tenderness. "You are doing the best you can with what life has handed you. Do not listen to their opinions; they don't know you. Put on your ear protection and keep doing your best."

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin "I know personally how hard it can be when you feel trapped, like the world is against you," Horangi's voice is warm and soft as he holds you against his chest. "But you have claws. You have the ability to fight back and take your life back. Fight for it."

Nikolai "Come now my friend," The pilot says with a knowing smile. "You have not failed. Only needed to stop for repairs. When life hits you and turns your perspective upside down, you need only turn it back around. It is not impossible, you've seen how I do it." He smacks his helicopter a few times, making you crack a smile.

Nikto "We know all too well what it is like to feel like you are alone, that you have nothing. That you are nothing," Nikto tells you, leaning in the doorway to your room. "Sometimes you have to learn that it's okay to trust others and let them in again. They aren't going to hurt you as badly as your mind is making you think."

Sebastian Krueger "Having people leave hurts, especially when it's outside our control," Krueger sighs, lifting the netting to take a drag from his cigarette. As he blows out a puff of smoke, he continues. "But forcing yourself into a life of isolation is worse. There will always be opportunities to patch the damage to your heart."

Philip Graves "Turn that frown upside down sunshine," Graves tells you with a pat on the back. "Neither of us are going anywhere till the job gets done. And trust me, it'll get done just fine."

Alejandro Vargas "Don't look so down cariño," Alejandro tips your chin up to look at him as he gives you his signature sharp-toothed grin. "Los Vaqueros have your back. You can rely on us; you're not alone."

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra "Hey what's wrong amor?" Rudy questions, holding your face gently. "It's all going to be okay. We're going to figure things out one step at a time okay? You and me." He puts a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. "Promise."

Valeria Garza "Come on chiquito/a, let's get you up," Valeria helps you to your feet, brushing dirt and dust off your pants and shirt. "Try again yeah? You think I took the title of El Sin Nombre without falling off the bull a few times? You can do this."

Kate Laswell "Everyone makes mistakes, I'm certainly no exception," Laswell puts her hand on your shoulder. "I've seen you do this before, I know you can do it again. Go prove them wrong, take no prisoners."

Alex Keller "I've been through my fair share...and you see what happened because of that," Alex points to his prosthetic before standing and you watch it support his weight. "But that was only one part of who I am. I'm a hell of a lot more than that, and I know you are too."

Farah Karim "I know what it feels like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, like everything is riding on your success," the resistance leader tells you. The rising sun paints her in an ethereal light as she smiles at you. "It is always important to remember who is in your corner, and who will turn their back on you when the war is over. Remember how to trust but not make yourself vulnerable. Guard, but don't push away those who would help you."

Keegan P. Russ "Choices are never easy, especially when you don't know the right ones to make," Keegan puts his mask back on as he approaches you, knocking his forehead into your oh so gently. "Whatever choice you make will be the right one for you kid. Don't second guess yourself so much, you know yourself and your situation better than that."

[machveil]

Collective Writings - Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin

Collective Writings navigation page

our favorite gambler, all my Horangi fics!💕✨ for fics 18+ please read content warnings (CW) - you come first! check the fic before you read it

Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:

General Thoughts - headcanon

Vegas Wedding Bells - fic

Your birthday - headcanon

Cod Headcanon: Found Family/Familial Love - headcanon

thanks again to followers and friends for keeping up with my writing! CoD requests are always welcomed, please review this post before requesting🎀✨ giving you guys a big, fat kiss for being wonderful and I hope to see you around - either in my inbox or notifications<3

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

[diejager]

random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝

—🎀—

Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.

“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.

And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.

At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.

An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.

Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.

“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”

“Do you want that, Schnucki?”

All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

[mausinly]

i wanna see these big scary men get all flustered, give em a taste of their own medicine

Thinking about cod men with the most s/o of all time that is just so so tender with them and is so soft and kisses them so so good just like they deserve.

Thinking about cod men with an s/o that doesn't hesitate to tell them how pretty they are and will hold and caress them in a heartbeat, watching as their big bad military man melts in their arms.

Thinking about cod men that feel tears brim their eyes as their darling cups his head in their hands, their thumbs ever so gently brushing over his cheeks as they pepper kisses all over his face.

Their s/o makes sure to kiss every scar, every blemish and imperfection, everywhere but his lips until he murmurs how much of a tease his darling is. Only for their lips to meet in the most tender, passionate kiss he's ever received in his life, followed by loving whispers in the dark of night only for him to hear.

[wxnheart]

On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions": How would the boys react to you putting your hand in their back pocket and copping a feel?

Capt. John Price - Is startled to the point he drops his cigar. Oops. He's a little sheepish about it but it feels good knowing the old man's still got it.

Gaz - It actually didn't register because he was paying attention to something else; it takes you literally squeezing his ass for him to realize it. Jumps slightly. Will also hit you with the side-eye every time you point out how hilarious his expression was when he did it, too.

Ghost - Will sigh in long-suffering. Is just long-suffering in general. This is exactly why he doesn't bend over whenever you're nearby because you're liable to make a comment or two ("Nice ass, Lt."). Has gotten used to it to the point that he gauges your disposition by whether or not you cop a feel that day.

Soap - One of two things. Hits you with one of his signature smirks and steals a kiss or he'll giggle... snort. You are not allowed to talk about the latter. Your uwu golden retriever.

Alejandro - To your surprise, he hits you with that stare. Yeah, that stare. You know, the one where he's gonna give you something you can feel later on that night. Have you walking from side to side the next day *in my Ariana voice*.

Rudy - Actually jumped when you first did it. Tries to crack a joke to take away from the fact that he was caught off guard but all it did was make you laugh harder at him. No, his cheeks aren't red, what the hell are you talking about?

König - König.exe stops working.

Horangi - Does it back. Two can play this game. Caresses your ass; makes love to it with his hand. Leaves you horny and angry after he walks off all triumphant and shit.

Graves - "I've always been blessed, darlin'." This is accompanied by the most sleaziest grin you ever saw. Smug bastard.

[latenightdaydreams]

Horangi x König x Reader (fem)

Poll story! Thank you to everyone who voted!

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, threeway, p in v, oral

2.8 word count

.

.

After a long mission, König and Horangi decide to go to a local bar to drink and celebrate a job well done. They get a table in the back, per König’s request. He hates when people stare at him, and they always do. Horangi makes his way to the bar to order them some drinks when he passes you. You’re there with some friends, it looks like. Stunning.

On his way back from the bar with drinks in hand, Horangi has an excited sparkle in his brown eyes. He places the drinks down on the table and then slams his fist down.

“There is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen here.”

König looks at Horangi annoyed, “You know we don’t have the same type.”

“No, this woman transcends types. She’s just stunning.”

“Where?”

“The one in black sitting at the big round table. Go grab napkins or something and look at her,” Horangi encourages König.

“No, that’s weird.”

“Shut up, go!” Horangi playfully demands of him.

König stands from the table, glaring at Horangi as he turns to walk off. He walks past the table you’re sitting at and he sees you. It’s almost like time stood still for a moment as his eyes fall on you. Horangi was right. You’re divine. He almost stumbles over his own feet as he simply turns around. Horangi face-palming at how awkward König is.

“Mein Gott, she’s beautiful.”

“I know. I wonder if either of us would have a chance.” Horangi looks over his shoulder in your direction.

König slips his beer underneath his sniper hood as he takes a sip and looks over at you, too. König’s picked women up at the bar before, but never one that looks like you. You seem almost untouchable.

“We should talk to her.”

“We?” König looks at Horangi wide eyed.

“Yes, we. After the mission we went on, why not?”

König’s eyes went back to you before taking another drink. “You’re crazy then.”

“If we had the chance to have the three-way we always talked about, it would be with her.”

He has a point, but it still feels weird to just approach a random woman at the bar. Especially when you’re as big as König. That’s just not something you do. At the same time, it has been a while since he’s been with a woman…

Before König could give his final opinion, Horangi springs up from his seat and makes his way over to you. König watches with wide eyes as Horangi puts on his best confident stride and casually walks up beside you.

“Hello,” Horangi greets your group of friends to be polite before turning to you. “I just wanted to speak for me and my friend over there and say that you’re the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen.”

König can see Horangi point to him. His face turns hot as he tries to not pay too much attention. He can’t believe Horangi is actually going through with this. What if it works?

You gaze into the beautiful brown eyes of this man dressed in a military uniform and peer over to his friend sitting in the back. A smile spreads across your lips as you take in his words. His Korean accent adding to his charm.

“That’s very sweet of you two.” You smirk and look back over at his friend. “Are you two military?”

“Yes, we are. We just came back from deployment actually. It’s just us celebrating our return home…if you’d like to join?”

There is a small giggle from the women you’re with as you turn to them. Your closest friend gives you a thumbs up and a wink, boosting your confidence. After a short moment of taking in everyone’s expressions, you turn back to him.

“Sure, why not.”

Under Horangi’s mask, he smiles widely. He steps back to allow you room to follow him back to the table König’s waiting at. König sat there looking dumbfounded. How? How did he get her over here?

“I’m Horangi, an Operator at KorTac. This is König, Colonel at KorTac.”

A pair of icy blue eyes look at you from underneath a sniper hood. Sitting, König looks like a giant. He reaches his hand out to shake yours.

“Pleasure to meet you.” A thick Austrian accent carries his words.

“Pleasure to meet you too.” You place your hand in his. His hand completely dwarfs your own.

After two hours of talking to the two men and light drinking, Horangi decides it’s now or never to ask. He clears his throat and looks at König. König, looking at your love struck, didn’t notice his friends’ social cues. So Horangi just cut him off mid sentence.

“Would you all want to continue this conversation back to my place?” Horangi’s soft brown eyes gaze into your own, running down to your lips making your heart flutter.

You’re not married, young, and trying to explore new things after your most recent break up. A one-night stand, let alone group sex, is something that would usually turn you off immediately. Maybe it’s the lift trials or the fact both men are charming, but you nod in agreement. König’s in disbelief. Horangi is a mad man, a genius. How is he so smooth with women?

König finishes his final drink and stands, revealing his true height. You just look up at him in awe. Horangi is around 6 feet, which is already tall. König is nearly a foot taller than Horangi. A god almost. König looks down to see how you’re staring at him, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

Once back at Horangi’s apartment, he walks you into his bedroom. You look around, taking in the small things that tell you about him. As you look, you can hear König shut the bedroom door behind you.

Horangi pulls his balaclava off, showing his handsome face to you for the first time. He runs a hand through his thick black hair as he approaches you. König watches your body language and how you’re receiving the advances from his friend.

You stand there feeling the tension rising in the bedroom as Horangi puts his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hand cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a kiss. You kiss back as his hand glides over your body, squeezing your ass.

Horangi opens his eyes in the kiss to look at König watching them and motion in over. König took a deep breath and walked up behind you, sandwiching you in-between both men. A chill runs down your spin as König wraps his massive hands around your stomach, reaching for the hem of your shirt and lifting it up.

König pulls your shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. Horangi leans down, kissing your cleavage as he snakes his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. His hands guide it off of your body as his kisses lower to your breasts, slowly finding your nipple. A soft sigh comes from your lips that gets both men excited.

With one hand, König lifts his mask slightly to reveal his mouth. He places a trail of kisses along your neck and down your back slightly. His hands wrap around your waist to caress your stomach. Horangi licking and sucking on your sensitive nipples makes you whimper softly. You turn your head to the side to look at König as he kisses back up your neck. His lips press against yours with a needy passion you’ve never felt before.

Horangi gently turns your body so you face König. You tilt your head all the way back to look up into his blue eyes. The small part of his face you can see from him holding up his mask has a scar across it, making you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s wearing it.

König pinches your chin between his fingers to hold your head up to him as he leans down to kiss you again. He slips his tongue out, pressing it past your lips. Both of your tongues swirl together before he gently bites your bottom lip. His other hand gropes at your breasts, twirling your nipple between his fingers.

Horangi stands behind you, grabbing at the buttons on your pants and undoing them. He drags your pants down, staring at your shapely ass in a peach-colored thong. As he pulls your pants down, he drops to his knees, taking a firm bite out of your ass. His hands rubbing circles and slapping lightly.

“You have a fantastic body, y/n.” Horangi groans before slapping your ass once more.

König lowers his mouth to your breasts, suckling hungrily at your breasts. Once your pants are lowered, he slips one hand down and caresses your soft mound. He slips his fingers between your legs and rubs your folds through your panties, feeling a wet spot already formed.

In one swift motion, König lifts you and Horangi pulls your pants off the way. You wrap your legs around König as he walks you to the bed. He sits you down on the blue bedsheets, gently pushing you back. His fingers slide down your body and pull your thong off. He takes a moment to appreciate how beautiful your pussy is. Horangi undresses as he watches König lightly rub his thumb over your clit.

König takes a step back and looks at Horangi as he undresses as well. He lifts his shirt off, revealing his firm body riddled with scars. Your eyes roam all over Horangi's and König’s bodies. Both men are stunning.

They approach you on the bed, giving each other a glance as if trying to communicate what to do. Horangi joins you on the bed, pulling you back to him as he relaxes back on his pillows. His fingers play with your nipples and lips kissing your skin gently while König lays belly down in front of you.

König lifts his mask slightly, leaning his head down to kiss your pussy. You gaze down at his blue eyes as he looks back up at you. Your head drops back on Horangi’s shoulders as you moan out from the pleasure of König’s fat tongue slipping along your folds.

“Beautiful sounds.” Horangi whispers to you as he pinches your nipple lightly.

Your body was overwhelmed with the pleasure of both men touching you. Your hips move slightly in rhythm with König's tongue. His large hands come up and hold your hips still, a small smirk at the corner of his lips. It gives him an ego boost to see you reacting the way you are.

As König sucks on your clit, causing your legs to twitch, Horangi’s lips lock with yours. You both kiss passionately as you moan into his mouth. His hands grasp your breasts and squeeze tightly.

“Oh fuck.” You moan, turning your head to look back down at König.

“Are you going to cum already, love?”

You nod as you gaze down at König. Your fingers grasp as Horangi’s legs next to you as your back arches. The feeling of König sucking while licking your clit is too much to hold back from. As your eyes flutter a loud moan escapes you.

König buries his face deeper into your cunt as you cum. He wants to taste all of you. His blue eyes close as he rests his head on your tight, lazily licking your clit still until you come down from your orgasm. He sucks lightly once more before moving himself up, grabbing your hands and pulling you forward.

“All four, Liebling.”

You listen and get on all four as König kneels before you. His hand comes up and caresses your hair as Horangi stands behind you. He rubs his cock along your slick folds, a small groan escaping his lips as he anticipates what your cunt will feel like wrapped around his cock.

König gazes down at you as Horangi pushes his cock into your pussy. Your eyes light up with pleasure. Once your mouth falls open to let a moan out, König’s tip slips into your mouth. Feeling overwhelmed with desire, you accept his cock into your mouth. You suck on the tip as you gaze into König’s eyes.

His mask falls forward as he gazes down with lust. The way your plump lips feel is heaven. His eyes close and drops his head back. One hand reaching to your hair and helping guide you up and down his fat shaft.

Horangi moans as your tight pussy swallows him whole, his hips rolling quickly into you as he watches you suck König’s cock. His fingers grasp your supple ass tightly. His balls slam into your clit with every thrust adding to your pleasure. His hand raises and slams back down, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a print.

You moan as König’s fat cock is gagging you, pushing more down your throat. König grabs your hair tighter and thrust his hips forward into your mouth. His eyes travel down your body to Horangi’s face full of pleasure making him wonder how your cunt will feel.

König gives Horangi a look as if he wants to switch. Horangi nods and gives you a few more fast thrusts before pulling out. You gaze up at König as he moves. Horangi steps off the bed and stands at the side of the bed.

“Can you lay on your back for us, Liebling?”

You nod and look at both men as you lie on your back. Horangi gently pulls you to the edge of the bed by your shoulders leaving you head to dangle off the edge slightly. König rests his massive body between your legs, looking down at your pussy.

König slaps his cock on your sensitive cunt as he watches Horangi gently guide his cock into your mouth. His pale blue eyes drop back down and places his cock teasing your tight little cunt with his tip. Finally, he rolls his hips forward. A muffled moan leaves your mouth as you feel König cock stretch you.

Horangi places one hand underneath your head to hold you up slightly as he thrust his cock in and out of your mouth. He pushes in slowly and holds it to see how far he can go before you begin to gag. Your breasts bounce from the motion of König slamming his broad hips into your delicate body.

Horangi pushes in more and more, you gag lightly but don’t turn your head away. The outline of his cock in your throat as you fully take him in. König watches and it only turns him on even more.

“Gott, you’re perfect.” König moans out.

Both men experience physical and visual bliss seeing the way you are able to handle two cocks. You feel as if you’re on cloud nine as these men take out months of sexual frustration on you.

“Where do you want out cum, love?” Horangi asks as he reaches out and slaps your left breasts lightly.

“Anywhere.”

Horangi and König look at each other, again as if talking through visual cues. They both gently pull out of you. König grabs your legs as he does and drags you to the edge of the bed before lifting you up and setting you on the ground.

You look up at both men as you kneel before them. Both men continue to stroke their cocks as they approach you. König gently caresses your face and turns you to look up at both of them. His thumb caresses your bottom lip gently opening your mouth.

Horangi is the first, his moans coming out low and shaky. His cock twitches slightly as hot ropes of his cum go across your face. You gaze up at his brown eyes as he finishes. König steps forward and rests his cock on the tip of your bottom lip. His cock throbbing as it releases large spurts into your mouth. His moans are soft and high pitches. You suck on the tip of his dick once he finishes and swallow his load.

Horangi and König look at each other with a proud look on their faces before looking back down at you.

“I’ll go start a bath.” Horangi says as König lifts you up.

König carries you to the bathroom behind Horangi. His eyes glossing over your naked body, he can’t believe he has been privileged enough to touch you. Both men would make sure they show you how much they appreciate you giving yourself to them.

The next morning you wake up snuggled in between both men. König’s head resting on yours with his hand cupping your bare breasts. Horangi’s face is almost pressed into yours as his arm is around your waist. You relax into the warmth they generate and smirk. This turned out to be a great decision.

[lxvvie]

Audio Pornfare, Rivalry edition:

KorTac, more affectionally known as PornTac, is 141 Studios' biggest rival. If you can call them such.

Valeria gives Mommy Domme energy just like Prices does Daddy Dom.

The likes of Horangi go for the jugular. All or nothing. The risktaker. The daredevil. Pleasure and frustration in spades. Can you handle it?

In reality, however, both studios play upon it to drum up interest, especially with König and Ghost.

König and Ghost are two sides of the same coin. Whereas Ghost encourages your fantasies with quiet intensity, König does so with frenzied shamelessness, orders given amidst a flurry of passionate laughter. Let your imagination run wild, Schatz.

Laswell had the bright idea to turn their 'rivalry' into a collaboration. They did and bloody hell, it went better than they thought it would.

It was König and Ghost tag-teaming the listener, making them ponder who the better lover was, making them say their names to make the other jealous, all while throwing jabs at each other. You should've heard the outtakes because König was saying the most outlandish shit and even got Ghost to snort a couple times. "What the fuck...?"

[yawnderu]

MW2 KorTac and TF141 Twitter | Part XI

ATSV/COD MWII Twitter AU Masterlist

Masked man dick could fix me better than therapy

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Constantly Sleepy!Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: None

Nikto

Nikto is probably the most confused by your sleepy self. The man lives off of a solid 5 hours a week, and that’s during a good period. It’s worse when the nightmares come on in droves, keeping him up for nights on end, eyes always open, twitchy and trigger happy. But in time he learns to enjoy your sleep, standing vigilant beside you, your watcher and protector. Like you’re his own personal sleeping beauty, and he’s the dragon curled around your bed. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, your own peacefulness will lure him in, driving him to slip into bed with you and get some more proper rest.

Gaz

Gaz is the absolute best bf to a sleepy partner. He’s always covering you with blankets or, more likely, his jacket. Setting pillows under your head or carrying you back to bed. You won’t always be able to sucker him into some cuddles but you will a great majority of the time, as long as there’s nothing of great importance that needs to be attended to. And he’s so warm and comfy, like a great big pillow mixed with a heating pad. He’s gotten more than a few good yelling ats from Price because he’s slept through some pressing phone calls, too cozy while being curled up with you to even hear the phone.

Horangi

If you’re sleeping anywhere, you’re sleeping on Horangi. Either full on in his lap, cuddled against his side, or with your head resting on his shoulder. Sometimes he can be seen carrying your sleeping body around, holding you tight in the mornings when he’s only half awake, grumbling to himself whenever you so much as twitch or wiggle in his hold. But more often everyone finds you both curled up together by some window, lazily stretched out and all comfy, like two little kittens with a sign above them that says “Bonded pair, must adopt together”. A few recruits took pictures to commemorate the sight of it only to be hunted down for sport later by you and your tiger.

Krueger

He adores the way you so so cutely rub at your sleepy eyes or do an adorable stretch like some sort of cat before promptly curling in on yourself, nuzzling your face against whatever it was you were laying on. Though he had to admit that it makes him a bit jealous, you’re not rubbing up against him and he’s pretty sure he’s softer than that table you’re snoring on. Eventually he just pulls you into his lap, uncaring of your whines as he readjusts you to be more comfortable, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t even mind that you drool on him a bit, wears it as a badge of honor even. Proud that you’re so relaxed around him, so comfortable that you just completely melt into his body. He may have taken a few (dozen) pictures to remember this moment by and to tease you with later.

[nova-amor]

༘☁︎⋆ ◜ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ◞

"eyes forward, pretty girl," he leaned over to whisper in your ear, the warmth of his breath causing heat to rise to your cheeks, your teeth gnawing at the plump flesh of your bottom lip. "keep 'em legs wide open and just relax, baby." his warm hand slipped beneath the fabric of your skirt, calloused finger tips brushing against the lace edges of your underwear.

it was inappropriate— to fuck in a movie theatre was scandalous, definitely against the law and could get you in major trouble if you two were caught. but something about the risk made you grow wetter, adrenaline coursing through your veins as he rubbed at the wet spot forming on your crotch. you tugged the thin blanket a little further up onto your shoulders, providing the perfect barrier to shield your activities from the rest of the theatre patrons.

"if you keep squirming like that, sweetheart, someone's gonna notice," he purred into your ear, a ghost of a lick left on your earlobe as he nudged your underwear to the side. "don't think you want that, do you? or, maybe you do… you want someone to catch us, huh? want someone to see how pathetic and desperate you get for your boyfriend's fingers?"

you shook your head in disagreement, lying to not only him but yourself. struggling to control your breathing pattern as he rubbed tight circles and squares around your clit. your legs twitched, foot tapping against the floor as you fixated your gaze on the movie playing rather than the familiar sweet stretch of your walls engulfing your boyfriend's thick digit.

"breathe f'me, sweetness, don't want you to pass out," he chuckled, curling his finger into your squishy walls. the filthy squelching noises of your sopping cunt were overshadowed by the movie's well-timed soundtrack clips and action sequences. "such a good girl f'me— fuckin' pussy's gushin’ all around me. you like this, don't you? love it when i use you like the slut you are?"

you rested your head on his shoulder, choking down the pathetic moans and whimpers that threatened to escape your lips. he slipped another finger into you and then another, plowing three fingers deeper and deeper inside you— stretching you out beyond your usual limit. you were growing delirious, hips bucking up relentlessly to chase the sweet release building at the pit of your stomach.

"gonna cum f'me, pretty girl? can feel your walls startin' t' milk my fingers," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hooking his fingers into your sensitive g-spot. the heel of his palm dug into your clit, each rut of his fingers into you stimulating your sensitive nub. "that's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers— fuckin' cum around my fingers."

black spots flashed across your eyes, your orgasm almost completely blinding you. your hips stuttered, body convulsing in the cushions of the theatre seat— there certainly would be a wet patch on the seat after the movie was done.

"such a good girl, you did so good f'me," his voice was distant, your head practically in the clouds as he retracted his fingers from deep inside you. he brought his fingers up to your lips, the lights of the movie causing his fingers to glimmer with the clear sheen of your release. "now open that pretty mouth and clean my fingers f'me— that's it, be a good girl and suck. maybe i'll give you some dick in the parking lot as a treat later."

satoru gojo, takuma ino, connie springer, zeke yeagar, natsuo todoroki, shota aizawa, kei tsukishima, tōru oikawa, kim hong-jin, gary sanderson

[machveil]

Today’s thought:

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (except for our marriage that part is very much coming home with us) scenario:

Idk, just thinking about the various guys going out to party in Vegas (maybe after a lengthy job being successful, maybe a birthday or something) only to wake up married (like actually legally binding married, not just a joke wedding officiated by Elvis) to the person they’ve been eyeing for a while now, not having the slightest idea what happened the previous night.

-🐸

Also I saw that art, I need yall to know I almost shrieked in the middle of the very quiet lab I work in.

[post writing note: so many words… very sleepy now] oh, you know I have to include Horangi in a Vegas fic🎲ヽ(´▽`)/🃏✨

Vegas Wedding Bells

what’s the worse that can happen after celebrating in Vegas? going back to spend your honeymoon at base? Simon ��Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin CW: fem!reader, getting married while intoxicated, suggestive

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

the dull ache in his head was the first thing he noticed as he woke up, bright beams of light aggravating a headache as he groans. the body tucked against him was the second thing he noticed, bare skin warmed by bare skin. that caught his attention

when Johnny decided Simon - the birthday boy - needed to loosen up for his special day he scoffed, “‘M turnin’ thirty-two, Soap. I don’t do birthday parties.”. he thought that all the way to America, grumbling when the team boarded the plane. his two saving graces were getting an aisle seat and sitting next to you

“Ghost, it’s not that bad.”, you chuckle, watching as he crosses his arms - for a man that large and intimidating, he was acting like a pouting child. “Could be havin’ a beer at the pub.”, he remarks, eyebrows knit as someone’s carry-on bumps his shoulder, “Soap’s lucky I ‘aven’t wrung his neck.”

the flight itself wasn’t so bad, no crying children or loud snoring. by the time the flight landed at Harry Reid it was dark out, Johnny dragging everyone towards the hotel. you barely had time to shower and change before you were wrangled out to a casino. “Soap, m’not gamblin’.”, Simon huffed, looming next to the Scot as they passed row after row of slot machines

Simon held true to his word - he didn’t gamble. he got shitfaced

the night went by in slow motion, bleary eyes and drunken laughter ringing throughout the group. Simon didn’t know when it happened - when he got separated from the group, when he took your hand in his and left the building. he didn’t remember whisking you away to the nearest church - a real church, he didn’t remember gruffly asking for someone to officiate the sudden ceremony. he definitely didn’t remember shaking down some poor stranger on the street to be your witness, “Gotta— we gotta ‘ave someone watch… yeah? I’ll uh— I’ll grab someone, lovie.”

but, as you moved in his arms, the glint of a pretty little gem on your finger had his eyes widening. moving slowly, trying not to wake you, he lifts he own hand - a gold band snug against his ring finger. it’s not like you weren’t close to Simon, quite the opposite

he’d been meaning to ask you out for a few months, never quite working up the nerve to. now? he’s cussing himself out in his head - married before the first date, drunken vows. your back is to his chest, arms cradling a pillow as you sleep. it’s only when you yawn and shift in his arms does he completely freeze, your tired eyes looking up at him

it doesn’t help when you snuggle up to him, eyes closing as you tuck yourself against his chest. heart hammering, he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it. at a loss for words, his gaze travels back to his ring adorned finger - fuck, would you be pissed when you realize? he’s liked you for so long and he blows it by marrying you in Vegas?

“Simon?”, you murmur, turning in his arms, chest to chest - still skin to skin, “What time is it?”, a groan leaving your throat as the sun peaks out from behind his hotel room’s curtains. he can’t bring himself to look down, your bare chest to his. when he tries to shift back a little, aiming to sit up, does he realize a third thing - when had he taken off his mask?

dirty blonde, close-cropped hair messy against his pillow. scarred skin bare for your view. nervous brown eyes looking down at your sleepy form

he doesn’t know what to say, too much information being realized all at once. it doesn’t help when you hum softly, rubbing the corner of your eye, soft-spoken words leaving your lips - his cheeks heating up and hands a little sweaty at your words

“S’not nice to ignore the missus, Simon.”, you say, voice raspy with exhaustion

John “Soap” MacTavish:

it was a short deployment, but it had TF141 scrambling to stay alive - practically a week in hell. a hail of gunfire on Tuesday, a close call Wednesday, the group getting separated for two days. it was a miracle that everyone made it back in one piece with just scrapes and bruises

it was a mumbled joke - you didn’t think it would be taken seriously, “We’re lucky as hell, should take a trip to Vegas, huh?”. despite the aching muscles the group sustained, bumps and bruises, you were swept away to an airport. it was too early for this, but it was too late to back out - Price and his need to get to the airport at four in the morning

“S’not that bad, bonnie.”, Johnny shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he tucked you against his side. between Johnny and Kyle’s chipper mood, Simon’s grumbling, and Price double checking passports and tickets, you were content to just go along, “Soap, I love you, but it’s too early for this.”

he laughed, a little too loud for the early morning crowd - you didn’t catch the way his cheeks heated up though. “Lighten up, mo ghaol.”, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips when he heard you confusingly mutter, “Mo ghaol?”, under your breath. he’d tell you what that meant in the future

the flight itself was fine, Johnny sat behind you. he made it a little game - passing notes up to you from between the chairs, giving the back of your seat a nudge every once in a while. when he passed out halfway through the flight you caught a couple hours of peace… if you could ignore his snoring

by the time the plane landed and everyone was settling down in the hotel, Johnny was raring to go. quick knocks on your door followed by him calling your name - a little too loud for this time of night

Kyle was busy unpacking while Simon and Price had retired to bed - poor John, all alone and left to his own devices. he already had a plan, taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the hotel. a fun night of bar hopping and getting tipsy, his treat

Johnny was confused when he woke up in a hotel room - definitely not the one either of you checked into with the group— wait, what’re you doing wedged against his side? he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his temple making him stop. how much did he drink? he was at a bar with you, then he blinked and woke up here

bringing his hand up to rub his face, Johnny pauses when he feels cool metal touch his cheek. pulling his hand back a little, his eyebrows shoot up when he sees the ring on his finger - freezing when he remembers— oh no

he’s sitting up quickly, the pain in his head be damned. looking down at you, oh, you looked so peaceful, his breath hitches. there on your cute little ring finger, a matching gold band with a pretty little gemstone. “Ah— shit.”, he mumbles, mind a little fuzzy as snippets of the night come to the forefront of his mind

married - legally wed at the church around the corner. some dingy little say-the-vows wedding house wouldn’t do for you. Johnny, sweeping you both off in a drunken stupor, insisted that you deserved a real, good old fashioned church wedding… not before swinging into a jewelry shop

sloppy vows and dopey smiles exchanged, he was carrying you out the door. never made it back to the hotel Price booked - he couldn’t remember which way it was. instead, Johnny booked an overpriced honeymoon suite somewhere else - champagne bottle cracked open as he kissed your cheek

and now he’s looking down at you as you stir, tired eyes blinking open. it’s not like he regrets marrying you - he would love to marry you, he just wish he had gotten to the dating bit first. there was an awkward silence as you slowly took in the scene - Johnny, his shirt tossed somewhere in a forgotten corner, seated next to you in bed. an unfamiliar, albeit light, weight to your ring finger

when you finally meet his gaze, his grins - a slight, nervous glint in his eyes as you sit up too. “Ah— we— I mean, didnae think that—“, he coughs, stumbling over his words, trying to find something to say. married to one of his closest friends in Vegas of all places, he’s wracking his brain for a coherent sentence - eyes wide when you look down at your newly gilded finger

“Jumping the gun on getting married, huh?”, you smile, voice sleepy as you glance up at him. pausing, your eyebrows knit slightly as you glance around, “Where exactly are we, John?”

König:

König, for all his cockiness and bravado on duty as a Colonel, was less than thrilled to be flying to Vegas. was he proud of his teammates on their latest deployment? of course, did he want to be crammed in a small airplane seat with no leg room? absolutely not

being flown in and out of deployments is one thing, fitting himself in a seat meant for someone half his size was another. sniper hood replaced with a black medical mask and baseball cap, he was putting up with the flight for his friends - and you. was he going to spend money in Vegas? not if he could help it, “Nein, gambling is a waste of money. You can lose your own savings, Horangi.”, he scoffed, turning down the offer to bet when they landed

instead, König spent a majority of the night in a booth with you - drinking and watching your fellow teammates lose money. it wasn’t long before the multiple fruity cocktails got to König, a large hand on the small of your back as he ushered you outside the casino

the pounding in his head woke him up, throat dry and eyes bleary. the last thing he remembered was laughing with you on the streets of Vegas. as he moved to shift, to tug the covers up and hide against his pillow, he paused - registering the small hand on his chest, the warmth tucked against his side

swallowing, he glances down. he nearly chokes on his spit when he sees you sleeping against him, wedged between his body and the covers. headache suddenly forgotten, his mind swirls with different thoughts - had he slept with you? had you clung to him all night? are you going to be disgusted with him when you wake up? did you always have that ring on your finger—

wait. oh no

gaze glued to the ring on your finger - beautiful gem snug on the band - König’s mind suddenly goes blank. when he raises his own hand only to see a matching ring all those questions flood back as his chest tightens

surely you both hadn’t drank that much. he can barely remember leaving the casino though, he doesn’t remember whisking you away to a church - saying slurred vows and promises to each other. what’s worse? you weren’t together to begin with

sure, König has been pining for you, yearning to call you his and vice versa. to be married now? there’s butterflies in his stomach, but his chest is tight with anxiety. you were close colleagues, closer friends, and he carried you back to the hotel as his bride? you were going to kill him when you woke up, he was sure

when you mumbled something he froze, muscles tense as you hugged him closer. “Mm, König?”, sleepy voice coated with raspiness, it feels like the wind got knocked out of him, “König?”. his eyes darted down to meet yours, hands shaky as they clutch the sheets

“Ah— ja, Maus?”, voice strained, he awkwardly glances away. when he feels you cuddle up to his side, a small peck placed to his chest, he’s sure he’s died - or maybe he’s still asleep, blacked out from the booze. “You’re so warm.”, your voice, small and sweet, has him dizzy before he realizes what you’ve said

dead silent, he can’t help the flustered feeling in his heart, cheeks heating up. maybe everything can be normal? sure, you’re married, but— but what if you just ignored that? yeah, maybe König won’t lose you when you fully realize what’s happened… probably not, but the thought is nice

it’s a few minutes before you speak again, he’s sure the silence is comfortable for you - he’s overthinking what’s happened, what happens next, what happens on the flight back, what happens—

“Can’t wait to wake up every day like this.”, you sleepily murmur. it has König’s mind going silent - every day? you wanted to wake up with him every day—

Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:

he really shouldn’t gamble. he’s shit at it, he doesn’t want to risk owing more than he can pay, but damnit! it’s Las Vegas - how can he not gamble? the city was practically made for him. lights, dice, cards, cash? like a moth to the flame, can you blame Horangi when he drags you there for his birthday?

sure, he’s been to the States before, but Sin City? he’s never had a reason to go to Nevada, but a weekend get away to celebrate? now that’s an excuse to call and bluff. it was a little hard to get everyone onboard with the idea - as much as the team enjoyed a poker night, flying to Vegas to lose money was definitely… eyebrow raising. but, when it’s for a birthday, they can suck it up and play along

the night went by quick, a mixture of card games and drinking as the group paraded behind Horangi, letting him lead them from table to table. at some point they stopped at a bar, liquor flowing and shots passed out - Horangi could hardly move when he woke up. the hangover that hit him was devastating, an uncomfortable ache behind his temple

grumbling curses as light peaked out from behind the curtains, Horangi found himself unable to move - someone wrapped snugly around him, an arm and leg draped over his body. he didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night, then again, he didn’t remember a lot after the bar. so, when he looked down and saw you? his heart nearly stopped

“Mavsosa—“, voice strained as he freezes, his eyes flutter shut. you’re warm against him, pleasantly so, but he can’t help the guilt gnawing at his heart. did something happen? how did you two end up in his room?

but, light still streaming in from a crack in the curtains, when he opens his eyes he catches a glimmer on your ring finger. time slows down for him as he swallows - a pretty gold band with a cute little gem. when he eyes his own hand time starts flowing again, heart drumming in his chest. talk about a birthday present, he woke up with a wife

he would have been delighted to wake up as your boyfriend - maybe a tipsy confession after a shot of liquid courage, but waking up as your husband? it has his stomach twisting with nerves, but he can’t help the boyish smile that settles on his face. it seems like a silly joke, waking up wed to you

mind fuzzy as he recalls the chapel he ushered you into, hand in hand with goofy smiles, it didn’t seem too bad in the moment. while he might not be great at gambling, his charisma let him sweet talk the pastor into officiating - not his proudest moment in hindsight

and when you cling to him as you wake up, hand smoothing down his chest, he glances at you. you’ve been solid friends since he started serving, everyone knows that if you’re somewhere the other isn’t far behind. and he loves you, he really does, he just didn’t expect to see that ring on you, shiny band twinkling with the morning light

”Morning, dangsin.”, he quietly says, hoping you’ll be just as happy - maybe a little caught off guard - as him. it’s a gamble, his deep voice dripping with affection as he runs his hand through your hair, “Sleep well?”

charismatic man - while he tends to have terrible luck gambling, winning you over was easier than breathing, “Mhm, s’this our honeymoon, Kim?”, you mumble, eyeing the ring on his hand

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)

You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.

TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping

CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.

Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 

Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 

Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 

Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 

— Sorry. 

Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 

You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 

The guy doesn’t let go either. 

— Sorry, I think I got it first. 

You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 

— Haven’t seen you. 

He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 

— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 

You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 

— What do you need this bottle for? 

— Important reasons. Secret reasons.

The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 

Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 

He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 

Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 

But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 

— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 

— Yes, it is. Give up now. 

He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 

— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 

You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 

In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 

— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 

His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 

— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 

You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 

“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 

— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 

His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 

— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 

He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 

He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 

— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 

— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 

— You too. 

— But I will. 

— Just as I am. 

He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 

Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 

Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 

Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 

— What’s going on, Tigeren? 

Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 

You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…

Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…

Did you miss a horse-riding party? 

— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 

— I’m not a tourist. 

You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 

— This is a dangerous place, lady. 

The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 

— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 

— With my coke. 

Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 

— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 

— You let go of it, sir. 

— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 

You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 

— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 

The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 

You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 

He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 

Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 

You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 

Nothing. 

God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…

— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 

The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 

You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 

You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 

You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 

Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 

— Thank…you? 

— No problem, kleine. 

You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 

— What the fuck? Who is…

— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 

— Did you drop it or something? 

— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 

She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 

— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 

He…

You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…

The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 

— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 

Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 

— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 

He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 

— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 

— We’re not some dumb tourists. 

— Ach? You aren’t? 

Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 

— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 

— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 

— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 

You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 

You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 

— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 

— You were driving whole day? 

— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 

The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 

— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 

The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 

— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 

— Are you two alone on the trip? 

Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 

— No, Our male friends are with us. 

He humms, almost sounding amused. 

— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 

— Sorry? 

— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 

You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 

— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 

— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 

You nod. 

Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)

[diejager]

Thought: Stepfather!König & dbf!Horangi

Imagine, your mother marries a giant of a man, retired from years of deployment with his friend moving in to the house next to yours. Your new stepfather is quirky and so is his friend - you think he’s Korean - speaking in manners that leave you confused and wondering what they were mumbling about.

Your mother was still in her honeymoon phase, smiled and utterly in love with your stepfather, whom you called König, even when you complained about him and his friend being creepy and weird around you. When you told her about the creepy smile they gave you, she shrugged it off, telling you how military men were different from the trauma. When you told her about how your things were going missing: a hairbrush, a lipstick, panties and bras, and a few shirts and pants you wore for comfort, she scolded you about being forgetful and irresponsible. And when you told her that König and Kim were being very hands with you, she glowed in joy that they were so loving with you.

Anything you told her fell on deaf ears, her happiness at marrying a well off man after a few failed marriage turned her blind to your plight, the situations she brought upon her daughter. She doesn’t really care, she’s detached from reality after so many heartbreaks.

Horangi spent so much of his days at your house that it felt like he practically lived with you, sharing drinks and watching the Tv, taking glances your way. Stepfather!König has you straddled accros his lap, bulge pressing against your ass while he spoke comfortably with Horangi, his big palm forcing your hips to grind against him. He let Horangi grab your ass, fondling it with thick fingers and hungrily stare at you.

Although you hiss at them, pushing against their grabby hands and threaten to expose them, they laugh and coo at you, tone condescending and mean. Fighting only riled them up even more, hitting them resulted to getting spanked on their lap, and whining to your mom had you moaning and fingered dumb, thick fingers pumping in and out of you while they degrade you for being a whistleblower.

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ