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writeforfandoms · 7 months

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Run Wild 3

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Mink's first mission with KorTac doesn't go as smoothly as it could, and there is a definite learning curve to joining a new pack.

Warnings: Brief canon typical violence, shooting, injury, blood, death of unnamed characters, pack dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, everybody is allergic to emotions.

Word count: 1.9k

Eventual Horangi x König x f!reader

You'd known from the beginning that you'd get sent out. That was part of belonging to a PMC.

But you hadn't counted on being part of a pack.

Horangi and König both seemed relaxed, but then, they both had more experience than you did. You tried to let their ease help you.

This was supposed to be a relatively simple op. The goal was to rescue several prisoners. König would be leading the group to rescue the prisoners.

You and Horangi had been assigned to the outside group, taking care of any resistance before it became a problem.

It was odd being with Horangi but not König. You'd gotten so used to the two of them being together all the time over the past weeks that having just one was a little strange. Which probably meant that you needed to spend more time with them one on one, honestly.

Horangi tipped his head down at you, one eyebrow raising over the rim of his sunglasses. "Ready?" He asked, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes, sir." You breathed in slowly, shaking out your shoulders. Gear all felt good, you were as ready as you could be.

Horangi led you over to the group, and you kept close to him. He didn't say a word, but you could smell the amusement rolling off of him. You just huffed softly.

Naturally, the two of you were paired up, and sent off to get to your assigned location. Neither of you spoke, Horangi taking the lead easily.

Then you had to wait. Because of course you did. Even here there was a lot of hurry up and wait.

"Nervous?" Horangi purred from next to you.

You didn't startle at the sudden question, but you did side-eye him. "Eh. Only a little."

He snorted softly but didn't offer anything else. You just kept watching for anything worthy of alarm. Or shooting.

The first part was quiet. Neither of you spotted anything, the comm in your ear keeping you apprised of the other team’s movements.

The hostages had just been secured when you heard something other than the comm. You turned slowly, head tilting, listening. You could just see Horangi turning to look at you, clocking your sudden alertness.

Which was the only reason the bullet hit him in the shoulder and not the chest.

He went down and you swore, bringing your gun up and crouching next to him. The shot had come from behind him, where another two-person team was supposed to be set up.

“Alpha?” you asked softly, focusing on the glint of a weapon, following that to the single sniper clearly still searching for the two of you.

“Not gonna die,” he grunted, teeth clenched. “Line up a shot.”

Your grin felt a little feral, blood singing with the promise of getting a little retribution, even as the smell of blood filled your nose. A bullet hit the rock you were sheltering behind, but you didn’t flinch. You waited, patient, breathing slowly, ignoring the sounds of Horangi moving himself to better cover.

And as soon as you saw the sniper poke out from their own hiding spot, you pulled the trigger.

The sniper crumbled to the ground, and you hummed in satisfaction.

“One wounded,” Horangi was in the middle of reporting in as you tuned back in, satisfied that the threat was eliminated. “Sniper down.”

“Copy,” came the growl from the other end of the line. Oh, König was not happy. You glanced at Horangi but couldn’t tell anything, his expression hidden and scent camouflaged by the blood. “We are on the way to exfil.”

Horangi grunted, pushing to his feet. You were at his side a moment later, not quite hovering but close in case he needed anything. “Take lead,” he grunted to you.

You hesitated a bare moment before you nodded, stepping ahead of him, gun up, listening carefully for anything unusual. But there was nothing the entire way back to exfil. Horangi moved steadily behind you, only the occasional hitch in his breathing betraying him.

“Anything I can do?” you asked softly, not relaxing enough to look back at him. Not yet.

He chuffed, a sound far too feline to have come from a human throat. “Don’t fuss.”

Your shoulders tensed, pulling up towards your ears, and it took a moment to force them back down. But you didn’t say anything else, just led the way down to meet up with the rest.

The hostages were safe, the rest of the team coming back in. Two casualties, two injuries. Half a dozen hostiles had managed to circle up on two of the pairs, killing two operatives and injuring Horangi and one other before they’d been eliminated.

You sat away from Horangi and König on the ride back to base, choosing instead to put earbuds in and tune out. You needed to figure out your own emotions first, before you reported back to them.

König glanced back at you once before he hustled Horangi off. Probably to medical. You went to give your report, wanting to be done as soon as possible.

And then you headed for one of the common rooms. Not the pack room. Figuring yourself out came first, then checking on your alpha.

Or avoidance. That came first when someone roped you into a game of Mario Kart. That was definitely easier than facing whatever had gone wrong earlier, how Horangi had dismissed your concern.

Before you knew it, everyone was heading off to bed. You left too, a little slower. You had a room to yourself, tiny but yours - one of the benefits of being a registered shifter, apparently. You didn’t know if König or Horangi had updated your paperwork. It didn’t really matter, anyway.

You sat on your bed, still too wired to sleep. Maybe a nice swim would help. Technically you weren’t supposed to after lights out, but… If you were sneaky, nobody else had to even know.

That thought in mind, you snuck out of the barracks and towards the pool instead. You left the lights off, using the bits of moonlight coming in the windows to show you the way. Base was odd this time of night, much quieter than you were used to.

You left your clothes in the locker room, shifted, and scampered over to the pool. The water was pleasantly cool, and you dove down to the bottom of the pool. Not that you had anything to chase in here, but it felt good to just swim.

You drifted idly for a bit, letting the comfort of weightlessness help settle you. For all that you spent a lot of your time with Horangi and König, you didn’t know them well. Which was fair. It took time to know someone. They didn’t exactly know you well, either. Misunderstandings were bound to happen.

You ducked your head under the water and blew out a stream of bubbles. Just a misunderstanding, not a real push away. It was fine. Everything was fine.

A splash caught your attention, and you twisted in the water to look for the source. Horangi had his feet in the water, sitting at the edge of the pool, sunglasses gone. You blinked at him, hesitating, before you ducked under the water again.

If he wanted you, he’d get your attention somehow.

You spent a few more minutes swimming, mostly under the water, before splashing drew you nearer to Horangi. You popped back up to the surface of the water to find the alpha already watching you. He beckoned you closer, and after a moment of hesitation you obeyed. He held his hands in the water, clearly expecting you to come all the way to him. You did, though you chittered at him to let him know that you would jump back into the pool if he squeezed you at all.

But he surprised you, picking you up very gently and holding you close to his chest, heedless of the water that soaked into his sleep shirt. “König fusses like you wouldn’t believe,” he grumbled, thumb gentle as he stroked the top of your head. “It’s been the two of us for a long time.” He didn’t look down at you, but he did lean back a little, settling you more fully against his chest. With the lack of gear in the way, you could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong.

You leaned into him, chittering softly at him. You understood, kind of. Although it had been a long time since anyone had fussed over you.

He huffed softly. “Do I need to spell it out?” he asked, half-despairing.

You blinked up at him, shifting your weight in his hands to put your front paws higher up his chest and chitter at him.

He sighed softly, breath warm through the barrier of his face mask. “I was not trying to dismiss you, earlier,” he grumbled, soft and gruff. “One packmate fussing is bad enough.”

You tipped your head, considering him. He was telling the truth, that much your nose confirmed. And he clearly didn’t like speaking so plainly, although whether that was because this had to do with emotions or his own opinions you weren’t entirely sure. You didn’t yet know him well enough to guess.

So you decided to take it easy on him. You huffed and climbed the rest of the way up his chest and around the back of his neck before going boneless, draping yourself there like a fuzzy scarf.

He snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re small,” he mumbled. “If you fall asleep, I’m not picking the lock to your room.”

You huffed and briefly dug your claws into his shirt. Then you went limp again.

You used to do this with your father often, before everything.

You shied away from the memories and pushed your nose against Horangi’s neck, focusing on his scent, and the way he swore softly at your tiny cold nose against his skin. He still smelled a little like blood and antiseptic, but you could ignore that.

Finally calming again, you closed your eyes and dozed, just a little. Just until he stood. Then you chittered at him, tensing and digging your claws into his shirt again.

“Calm down,” he grumbled at you. “Locker room?”

You huffed but settled down again. He walked over to the locker room before he plucked you from his shoulders, scruffing you easily. You hissed a little, not enjoying dangling from his hand this high above the floor, but you didn’t try to escape. Or attack his fingers.

“We’re all off tomorrow,” he told you, holding you up to eye level even though you desperately looked anywhere but his eyes. “Come to the pack room after breakfast.”

You squeaked at him. Agreement and demand to be put down rolled in one.

“See you in the morning.” Horangi put you down next to your clothes and walked out of the locker room.

You shifted back and took a quick shower to wash the chlorine out of your hair before getting dressed again. The trip back to your room was just as dark and quiet, and you made it back with no problem.

Feeling better and more settled, sleep came easily to you.

#run wild #shifter au #horangi x könig #horangi x reader x König

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kikiwooo · 1 year

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𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅....𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕.

notes: gn! flying squirrel reader. I'm just fuckin' around.

don't fucking heart the post, I want fucking reblogs and comments and yes idc that I'm being rude.

@/kikiwooo

Reincarnated as a flying squirrel is honestly pure luck. Those guys are pretty flexible and being small makes them fit into nearly everywhere. I'm not even mentioning being able to glide.

Finding you was a surprise to König, you just came out of the thin air and landed on his chest. He was on a mission and trying to not get shot, which is pretty hard when there's such a cute distraction on his chest.

When the mission is over, the giant just ran towards to Horangi and showed you onto his face,,, which didn't help since Horangi was too busy catching his breath. When he finally got a good look at the creature in the König's hands " It's a wild animal we can't keep it. Leave them where you found them "

Due to two pair of puppy eyes from König and you, Horangi decides to let you stay, a big mistage really they are about to get addicted. König takes it upon himself to look after you, constantly feeding you little treats here and there and just watches with heart eyes how quickly you gobble them up in just mere seconds. Horangi warns him to not feed you too much but at the end of the day König would stuff your cheeks so much that they'd look they could pop off any time.

Horangi got you a cage for your size and it's just sitting there not used at all, reasons; 1) you never liked the cage even if it's full of rich thingies 2) you always sleep with them at nights 3) König always wants you by his side even if Horangi put you to your cage forcefully, König would find a way to get you out without Horangi noticing him sneaking you out.

Another reason why König keeps you with him is that you shut down his anxiety very quickly, Horangi never says something about that and is actually very grateful that you're there to make König focus. Your fur feels so nice to touch.

They both have pockets that you can hop in them anytime. Mainly Horangi though because he is very carefully with you, König too but sometimes he gets a bit too excited and ends up hurting you a little unintentionally, it's all good since he quickly apologies smothering you with kisses.

You sometimes sneak under König's hood and just stay here,,, whilst watching Horangi searching all over the place turning everything upside down to find you. König keeps his gremlin voice at minimum or never open his mouth to shout smthbg in German to not to scare his love ( he actually calls you that go ask him ), whenever he gets pinned to the ground or the wall his enemy will find themselves in front of a very furious squirrel. Squirrels can be dangerous if provoken, do be careful.

Now...imagine when König decides to mess with you, play fighting basically. His fingers can alone trap you under his palms " So tiny so cute! " [ also he takes his hood when it's just the two of you so ], when he goes for your nose for a kiss, suddenly there's a whole ass human beneath him( what was the name of the disney film agushsh I can't remember ). Both of you staring at each other wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

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wxnheart · 1 year

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After that mission with König and Horangi technically the three of you are not officially together but someone these two bastards have scared off any potential one night stands.

And Horangi has been subtle with his claim and affection towards a soft touch across your lower back, a gentle hand grab to pull you away from bumping into people.

König oh dear, he call king for a reason. Stares down anyone from a far when the speak to you, him casually press again you against the wall touches your face, and kissing you under his mask. Saying between kisses mine, pretty girl. Growls when you play at his neck.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐕𝐨𝐥. 𝟐, 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

König whose anxiety goes right out the window when he sees someone getting a little too close to his Schatz.

Horangi who doesn't hesitate to make you flush in the presence of others because why not? They do know who you belong to, right? Right?

König who, if he had his way, would shadow you whenever and wherever he can. A king has to protect his valuables after all.

Horangi who does shadow you and keeps his distance. Simultaneously. For reasons. Reasons that involve keeping you on your toes and in a heightened state of pure fucking want.

You're no better, doing everything in your power to tempt these two men, to urge and make them claim what's rightfully theirs. And so you encourage the banter, you encourage this... thing that smolders between you.

You feel their eyes on you, even if you don't acknowledge them, even if you don't say anything. You just continue talking to... hell, it doesn't matter. All that matters is purposely ignoring König's steely gaze and Horangi's... everything.

Horangi who makes it his priority to press your buttons, find what makes you tick, and use it to his advantage. Ah, so you do like his hands, eh? Horangi who surprises you by running a finger lightly over your lips and it's all you can do to keep from sucking on it.

König who finds out just what his size does to you. And once again, anxiety be damned, he shamelessly shows a side of himself that leaves you wanting more. König who corners you one day and presses against you, hardened muscle taut with self-restraint. You press yourself against him with equal vigor and for the first time (of many), you shiver in response to the deep rumble of his growl. Oh, König...

Horangi and König are now tired of the fucking games and are ready to claim their prize. About damn time.

Horangi and König manage to get you alone. You're sandwiched tightly in between the two of them and fuck yes—

You're enveloped in arms and roving hands who can't get enough of you, and finally, fucking finally, you beat Horangi at his own game. He bites down on his lip to keep from groaning because if your mouth feels this fucking good around his finger, just imagine how good it would feel in other places. Goddamn.

Just TigerKing things, amirite?

#horangi x reader x könig #horangi x reader #könig x reader #chaotic maskwich vol. ii.#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #poly palooza.#call of duty warzone #just tigerking things.#cutie 𝓠.#request fill.

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lxvvie · 7 months

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Why do I feel König and Horangi might just Eiffel Tower you just cause they can.

Yes, they absolutely would. König is showing great restraint (can't you feel how tightly his hands are clutching your hips?) and Horangi alternates between his fingers and dick enjoying the pleasure of your lips and tongue.

TigerKing things, amirite?

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drenix004 · 6 months

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Requests open --- 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐖𝟐

you can ask for one shots, drabbles, headcanons of task force 141, Alejandro, Rodolfo, valeria, Horangi and koning in different situations and contexts, especially if they are shapeshifters or hybrids, don't hesitate to ask for a headcanon, one shot or drable, I'll be happy to do it! And they'll be all soft, comforting and light angsty themes! Life is already too cruel and hard to make them suffer here too :)

Sadly there will be no smut or nsfw, I'm really bad at writing that kind of content, sorry. But, there will be slight superficial mentions of that as a reward.

I love manda dynamics, so you can ask for those too!

Valeria Garza Headcanons

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months

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Rough Sex w/ MW2

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Smut, Rough Sex, Restraining, Stomach Bulging, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Punishment, Use of a Strap-On, Implied Blow Job, Possessive Sex, Dehumanisation, Slut Shaming, Reader Blaming, Hair Pulling, Slight Dumbification, Blood, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Pet Names, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Just a stupid little whore, aren’t ya,” Simon growled as he pounded you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that phantom bruises descended upon your skin. The slickness of your abused hole did little to numb the pain of Simon’s rapid, unrelenting pace, of his engorged tip slipping deeper and deeper inside you, plugging you, making any form of escape from your impending unravelment impossible.

You could feel his cock, hot, heavy and ravenous, pulsating inside you, bringing you to the edge of electric euphoria with every thrust.

“Good for nothin’ except takin’ my cock.” He spat, his hand sliding up your spine and rooting itself in your hair. He gripped at the base and pulled your head back, hissing in your ear.

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him you were his, only his, but the words wouldn’t come out quick enough.

When you didn’t answer in time, he stopped. Pulled out, only the swollen tip remaining lodged inside.

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

You’d felt full before, but this sudden influx of skin and muscle and heat was too much. It knocked the air out of you, made you cry out as Simon sank balls-deep inside you, impaling your shuttering, wanting body on his dick. He grunted, his grip on your hair tightening.

“That’s it,” he said as you whimpered, cried out. “Take it — take it like the slag you are.”

König

“You wanted this – you wanted me to take you. Fucking attention whore,”

König’s voice reached depths you didn’t think possible as he bounced you on his cock, his stomach coated in your juices as he lay beneath you, thrusting up to plant as much of his member in the tight cavern of your hole as possible.

Even from where he lay, he could see the outline of himself within you. He twitched. Tried to stave off from painting your insides white for just a little longer.

You had no choice but to take it – your wrists bound behind your back with König’s belt – to take every inch of König’s cock.

He stretched you out to lengths you didn’t think possible as he pulled you down onto the base of his member, causing tears to stream down your face as he hit a sliver of you you didn’t think existed.

“God, you’re nothing without me,” he asserted, teeth gritted and restraint pushed to the very limit. “Nothing but a rag doll on the end of my dick – only made for me to use as I please.”

You knew it was true, especially with the coil within you verging on snapping, sending you over the precipice of ruin. König gave you a sly, thin grin.

“Nobody else can fuck you like this, can make you cry like this.” His grip on your waist proved he wasn’t lying, shortened nails leaving crescent indents in your skin.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

“Don’t tell me you’re cryin’ on me now, Darlin’,” Johnny said, not an ounce of sympathy or empathy in his voice. If anything, the realisation that you were just about holding on as he railed you from behind seemed to make him go faster, push harder, knocking his thick, meaty cock into you at a pace that could only be savage.

“C’mon, show me you can take it. I know you can,” he goaded — or perhaps encouraged. You couldn’t be so sure, especially as you could barely string a thought together, never mind the inclination to ask. He watched you, made dead eye contact with you through the mirror that put your undoing on display for him, his eyes piercing and ice.

At your silence, Johnny slapped your backside. Harsh. You yelped at the sting and jolted forwards, only for Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat and pull him back. His balls were flush against your backside, the tightness of your bodies together making him grunt.

“C’mon, mo ghaol — tell me how much you need this dick — show me how much you deserve it.” He squeezed your throat.

Valeria

“You were begging to be used by me — wearing those tight shorts like I wouldn’t notice.” Valeria punctuated her point with a harsh thrust, sending you banging against her desk, ribs aching, pressed against sleek wood. Everything hurt.

The strap-on she’d chosen was one she reserved only for correcting your most egregious behaviour. Apparently, this extended to your fashion choices, too.

“Trying to make my men lose focus, huh? Is that it?” The sound and sensation of your body welcoming the cruel length of her weapon made your cheeks flush and your hole clench, trying to pull it deeper, begging for punishment.

“Have I not given you enough attention? Or are you just hungry for anyone who lays eyes on you,”

You whimpered, trying to keep your head level as your girlfriend battered your insides with nothing less than animalistic fervour and rage.

“You wanna dress like a cheap whore,” she said, voice deep and husking as she lowered her lips to your ear. “Then I get to fuck you like one — my whore.”

Price

“I love you,” he panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you–”

He couldn’t stop – these last few hours with you would be all he had before he had to go on deployment again. And he was determined to make them count.

He’d stuffed himself into you, made light work of grinding your sanity down to its bare foundations as your body shook with the onset of another orgasm.

You were already so sensitive, every knock of his tip against your sensitive spot sending equal euphoria and pain through you.

“Gonna cum in you again,” he said, voice lethargic, words slurred like the blurring edges of watercolours. “Gonna get it as deep as possible. Want it still in you by the time I reach Base.”

The many loads of cum he’d already pumped into you weighed heavy in your belly, almost creating its own centre of gravity as you fought to keep your swollen stomach off the mattress. Anytime you failed, the sensitivity of your skin, the feeling of his load stagnant inside you, made you wince.

You could feel John’s cum leaking out of you as he plunged deep, deeper still, forcing his seed out of the small spaces which weren’t suffocated by his almost impossible girth.

Horangi

“Been stretching you out for hours and you’re still- ngh— fuckin’ tight.” Hong-Jin said, almost as if chiding you. He grunted, balls-deep yet nowhere near satisfied, his resolve being milked from him.

“Gonna need to–” he grunted, “break you in,”

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. One that, despite not having the power of his whole length behind it, forced a strangled moan from you.

His breath caught as he felt himself slip into a deeper, darker part of you, one which seemed to try and reject him as your hole pulsed uselessly around him, as if to push him out.

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

“Doing so well for me, Love,” he groaned, slipping back in and re-establishing a rhythm. You mewled beneath him.

“God, you’re so good — just lying down and taking it – like my own personal fleshlight.”

Alejandro

“So this is why you’ve been acting so strange recently, hm?” Alejandro spoke between pants, arms at either side of your head, blocking off everything that wasn’t him. He gritted his teeth, grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him as he brutalised you with his savage pace, stretching you out and making your hole spasm around his cock.

“Just needed a good fuck, didn’t you?”

You were all but drooling as Alejandro quite literally fucked you dumb, no thoughts in your head save for the desperate electricity between your legs.

When you didn’t answer — or rather couldn’t, for your mind was scarcely able to keep itself intact for the feeling of ruin rapidly descending upon you — Alejandro took your chin between his fingers and forced you to focus on him.

“Didn’t you.” He repeated. To that, the fire in his eyes, you managed a sloppy ‘yes’. Alejandro hummed, pressed himself closer, chest-to-chest.

“Don’t worry, Cariño — we’ve got all night to fuck that pretty little mouth back into working order.”

Rudy

Years of toil, training and discipline have shaped Rudy into the unsuspecting behemoth he is today; as was evident in the way you cried out when his dick skewered you, stretching you out and making your back arch against the mattress. He felt himself pressed to the wall of your abdomen as your stomach met his. He shivered.

“He can’t fuck you like this,” he said, voice low and seething, the intonation of a snake. His usual puppy-eyes were sharp, as if of a feline disposition. He watched you as your eyes, almost having rolled back into your skull, refused to meet his.

“Nobody can have you. You’re mine — only mine.” He slammed into you faster, giving you no preparation and only using the wetness already dripping from between your thighs there to slip in.

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

Your mouth, agape with silent pain, released nothing. Rudy raised his hand, slapped you. You yelped, the sting sending a shock between your legs. You clenched around him. He growled, head dipping to your collarbone, where you could feel his breath, scorching and unrelenting.

“Let’s try this one more time,” he rasped. When he looked up, his eyes were black. Gone was the man you loved.

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

“You like bein’ used by me, don’t ya,” Graves panted, struggling to keep up with the pace of his own euphoria. He could tell you were close, too, from the way tears streamed down your cheeks and how you suctioned around him, pulling him deeper, pleading with him for more.

“Love bein’ my favourite little cum dump — so well-behaved, just for me.”

Nothing could be truer as you felt him thrusting into you at a speed that suggested anger.

“Never be good for anything except taking my cock like a good slut.”

Your tongue lolled out from the corner of your mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets as Phillip allowed you your silence, especially considering how you’d earned it. Your obedience, your willingness to take everything he gave you. You scratched just the right part of Graves’ ego that had sustained him for this long.

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

Gaz’s change in personality, admittedly, frightened you. Especially as he stood over you now, having bound your hands together tied them over your head to the bed frame.

You’d tried encouraging him to just touch you already, to take you now as you were bound and helpless. Hell, you’d even ground yourself against his boot, working yourself up into a frenzy all in an effort to make him crack.

He didn’t.

“Oh no,” he said, wagging a finger at you. “You don’t get my dick yet.”

Already having used his belt to immobilise you, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers. Half-hard and beading at the tip, he eyed you, a cruel smile at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard,” he continued, taking you by the hair and forcing your lips to his pulsing member, watching your eyes widen. “That you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of the week.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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smutstationchoochoo · 9 months

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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! :)

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wordstome · 5 months

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COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.

*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter

p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.

That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.

Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.

You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.

Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?

Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)

Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)

König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.

You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)

Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.

You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.

Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.

I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?

As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3

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burstinn · 4 months

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You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it

HEADCANONS

Warnings and Notes:

All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this

I made this for funny

Slight nsfw

Gn reader, target audience is male

Haha face sitting

People mentioned:

Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves

You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.

Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.

And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"

RIPTIDE

- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck

- "Sorry for huh??"

- Seems like you say on him while he slept

- "... ", "nothin"

- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest

- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him

- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch

- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.

- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating

- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE

- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.

SOAP

- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..

- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.

- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally

- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr

- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"

- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"

- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."

- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.

- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.

- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)

- (He's actually serious)

GAZ

- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.

- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first

- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.

- "no.. It's okay.."

- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame

- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react

GHOST

- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.

- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry

- Oh.. Shit...

- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.

- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.

- He got hard, you noticed.

- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."

- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes

- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW

- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH

KÖNIG

- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?

- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize

- He just nodded..

- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..

- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room

- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny

- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face

- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee

MAKAROV

- " sit back down"

- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"

- you better sit the fuck back down on his face

- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face

KEEGAN

- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff

- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff

- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief

- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"

- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod

- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"

- He made you sit back down on his face

HORNAGI

-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH

- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face

- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face

- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing

- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good

- if you look behind you, He's hard.

PRICE

- would smile and assure you it's okay.

- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass

- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face

- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.

- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr

KRUEGER

- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone

- "Why'd you get off?"

- "huh?"

- "Sit.Back.down"

- You did

ROACH

- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy

- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face

- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing

- He would do it until you say yes..

- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug

LOGAN WALKER

- Would scream at you

- because you made him discover something about himself

- He's angry because of that

- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.

- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are

- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)

- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to

GRAVES

- Would look at you like 🤨

- Then be like 😐😒😏

- stands up and slaps your ass

- and asks you to sit on his face

Everyone mentioned

- You will face fuck them

- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them

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statusexile · 5 months

Text

[tw: exhibitionism, humiliation kink, gangbang]

You’re a barrack bunny and you’re feeling extra horny today. So, you decide to wear a white t-shirt with “play with my clit for $5” scribbled on it and strut around the quarter. Best believe everyone will line up in no time.

Soap will be the first in line. He dives right in with his tongue, eagerly lapping and circling around your sensitive bud making you pant and squirm. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face deeper into your cunt and he gladly obliged, licking and sucking it like his life depends on it.

Ghost’s rough, calloused fingers dig into your cunt as he mercilessly pinching and slapping your swollen clit, determined to see how quickly he could make you cum just by stimulating the bud alone. He doesn’t even bother to say anything as he only stares back right at you, watching you revel in agony. You’re begging him to stop but it only falls on deaf ears as your puffy cunt throbs under his touch.

Price and Gaz will be taking it slow, savoring every moment with you. They’ll soothe your swollen bud by rubbing it slowly and gently while telling how good you are for them. Delicately inserting their fingers inside your warm, welcoming pussy, eliciting moans from you as they shower you with praises.

Konig and Horangi, oof, they would be so fucking cruel. They would absolutely torture and abuse it like it’s a fucking stress toy. Konig would brutally stretch your swollen cunt to its limits with his hands while Horangi films it, zooming in on your pulsating and swollen sex. Horangi will use a vibrator right on your clit with maximum speed while Konig inserts three of his fingers deep inside you, earning a piercing scream from your throat. He thrusts his digits with relentless force, causing you to sob in pain. His fingers are so thick it feels like he shoved his entire fist. You screamed so loud that Horangi has to forcefully silence your cries by shoving his cock into your mouth while Konig continues to fingers you without mercy.

The men will parade you around the quarter like a prized possession. You’re only allowed to wear your scribbled t-shirt from earlier and nothing else. Ghost dragged you around by the hair, exposing you to the leering eyes of every military personnel who will use you as nothing more but a public glory hole for their pleasure. Price puffing on his cigar as he collects the payment while his subordinates ravage and violated your now numb cunt. And when you finally passed out, Konig will fuck you ruthlessly until you wake up and ready to be used again. :3

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diejager · 6 months

Text

Stepdad!König & dbf!Horangi masterlist

Pairing: Stepdad!König & dbf!Horangi x fem!reader

Cw: STEPCEST, DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, smut, rough sex, creampie, cheating, age gap/difference, size difference, fingering, spanking, degrading, cunnilingus, double penetration, tell me if I missed any. Note: there’s no specific order to this you some parts might be confusing.

Parts:

Thought

Secret

Double date

Delusion

Unconscious

Alone

Pregnancy

Phone

Mother

Confession

Family Dinner

Room Cleaning

Sleepover

New life

Punishment

Squirt

Baby Scenario

Friend

Gilded Cage

Avoidance

Possession

Taken

Favouritism

Father

Enlisted

Caught

Help

Clothes

Tight Cunt

Surrender

Gaslight

Tokbokki

Choice

Route: Ghost and Soap

First Time

Route: Horangi

Mine

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writeforfandoms · 3 months

Text

Run Wild 5

Find the series masterlist

Your pack insists on making your life both easier and harder, and you're not entirely sure how to feel about things. The situation doesn't improve when you and Horangi go on an op together.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to animal cruelty, Mink is having a hard time with her emotions, pack dynamics, shifter dynamics, flirting.

Word count: 2.8k

The next few days passed in a blur. You couldn't have recited what you did if someone held you at gunpoint.

But you didn't spend a lot of time with your pack. The two men.

You weren't avoiding them, really. Not intentionally. Not really.

You just…

Your cheeks puffed out as you dropped to the dirt, going through a training exercise with a squad. No König today. No Horangi today.

Just training exercises.

You just needed to clear your head, that was all.

Breathing slowly, you focused on your task. Just a little longer and you'd be done for the day.

At least, that was the plan.

Until Horangi met you at the end of your exercise, arms crossed loosely over his chest, sunglasses as impenetrable as ever. You blinked at him.

“Come with me.�� He uncrossed his arms, fingers twitching briefly. You nodded, falling in behind him, absently brushing yourself off.

He led you inside to the offices, though he didn't slow down even as your nose twitched in curiosity. You hadn't been in here often, and you wanted to explore. But Horangi didn't give you any time, just turning down a hallway, expecting you to follow him.

Which you did. Of course.

He stepped into a conference room and shut the door after you. König was already there waiting, leaned back against a wall, gaze fixed on the two of you.

“How are your recon skills?” Horangi turned to you as he asked, removing his sunglasses. The better to watch you, eyes dark and just a little narrowed.

“Good,” you said slowly, gaze darting between your two packmates. “Better if I can shift.”

Horangi nodded once, holding your gaze for a long moment before you blinked and looked away. “Good. We'll be going out on recon.”

“When?” You stood up a little straighter.

“Tomorrow. Briefing is officially in half an hour.” Horangi took one step closer to you, fingers closing around your wrist gently. “We will be the only two going in.”

“Two?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I am not as skilled at recon,” König rumbled, faintly embarrassed. “I am too loud.”

Horangi chuffed, amused and fond. “Two,” he confirmed, still watching you closely. “Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir.” You refocused on your alpha, head tipping slowly to one side. “I can do it.”

His eyes crinkled the smallest amount, like he was smiling under the mask. “You don't even know what it is yet,” he teased.

You shrugged. “I can still do it,” you asserted with a brief flash of teeth. “I can do quiet.”

“Hm.” Horangi nodded again and released your wrist. “Get cleaned up, meet back here in twenty-five.”

You nodded, though for a moment you stood still, just looking at him. His eyes would be covered again for the briefing, you knew. So you soaked in the trust he showed for a moment longer before you stepped around him and left.

You had to clean up, after all.

But you made it back with two minutes to spare, sinking down into the seat next to Horangi. König was gone, though you didn't have a chance to do more than shoot Horangi a questioning look.

The briefing was, well, brief. Shorter than you'd expected, actually. You were being sent in to find some information, very quiet. Just you and Horangi, as he'd warned you before.

You didn't mind. You were good at recon.

The building was isolated, meaning a trip in a helo, then a drive. The two of you had a few hours before you'd leave, which gave you time to grab a few necessities.

The knock at your door startled you, and you paused with your hoodie in your hands. But you opened the door after a moment, curiosity winning.

König stood in the doorway, filling the entire thing, looking even broader than normal. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, seeming uncertain.

“König?” You blinked up at him. “Can I help you with something?”

He shook his head, hood shifting with the movement. “Here.” He thrust one hand at you, gloved fingers curled around a piece of fabric.

You took the fabric carefully, surprised at how soft it was. An old bandana, blue and black. Curious, you lifted your gaze to König again.

He shrugged, now-empty hand reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “Just in case,” he mumbled, gaze dropping.

“Thank you.” You pulled it closer, rubbing your thumb against it. “I'll bring it back.”

He shook his head again. “It's yours,” he said, speaking faster now. “A gift.”

Your lips parted, because that? Was very different from something borrowed.

“You will be late,” König fussed, taking a step back from the doorway. “Don't keep Horangi waiting.”

Before you could gather your thoughts to say anything, he was gone, long strides carrying him down the corridor and away from you.

You blew out a breath, letting your cheeks puff out. Well then.

He'd given you a gift. Something personal, given how soft the bandana was. And judging by the fact his scent had permeated the fabric entirely, as proven when you lifted it to your nose.

This was… unexpected.

But he was right, you didn't want to make Horangi wait. You hurried through getting ready, throwing your hoodie on last. Since this was a recon op, you were dressed down, no longer in uniform. Which suited you just fine.

Horangi was waiting for you at the helo, dark eyes giving you a swift once-over before he nodded his approval. He motioned you in first, settling next to you for the ride.

It felt odd to see him without his sunglasses - he wore them constantly, even sometimes in the pack room.

You only realized you'd been looking too long when one dark eyebrow arched at you.

“Something on your mind?” The words were almost teasing.

“Eh. Sort of.” You shrugged, forcing yourself to look away. “Just not used to seeing, y'know, that much of your face.”

He snorted softly, one hand landing on your knee. “If you spent more time in the pack room you'd see more,” he murmured, definitely amused now.

You huffed, playing at being indignant. “Yeah, sure.”

He eyed you but didn't push. For once. Instead he kept his hand on your knee for the rest of the flight.

The drive was a couple hours, and he wordlessly got in the driver's seat, leaving the passenger side for you. You briefly debated laying down for a nap in the back… but gave up on that immediately. You'd rather spend the time with Horangi.

“König gave me a gift,” you blurted, without really meaning to.

Horangi nodded. “I know.”

“He told you?”

“He didn't need to.”

You eyed him but he didn't look at you, hands steady on the wheel. “Did you talk about it before?”

Horangi hummed softly, gaze flitting to you. “Briefly, yes.”

You weren't quite sure how to feel about that, and so simply huffed softly.

“If you came into the pack room more often…” He trailed off.

“You've mentioned.” You blew out a breath. “I guess I'll have to.”

You almost missed the flicker of his lips into the barest smile. Almost.

But that humor was nowhere to be found when the two of you reached your destination. Horangi parked the car, and you took a moment to stretch. Dawn was still a few hours off yet, giving the two of you plenty of time to get this op done. As long as things didn't go totally sideways.

The last section of the journey was on foot, Horangi taking the lead. When he glanced back at you, you could just see the reflection in his eyes, undeniably green. Your lips twitched. What a cat, indeed.

The smell hit you first, and your nose wrinkled against your will. Filth and waste left to sit too long, the faint tang of rusted metal overlaying it. The animal musk seemed out of place, but then again, this far out from a city any number of critters could be living around the building. The building was long and squat, single story, no lights on.

“Here.” Horangi stopped at a window that had been left open a crack. “This will be the bathroom.”

You nodded, recalling the map the two of you had gone over hours earlier. “Ten minutes,” you agreed.

No more words passed between you as he boosted you up, and you pushed the window the rest of the way open to twist through. It was easier without gear in the way, but also left your shoulders and back tingling with the knowledge that you had nothing but fabric between you and any potential attack.

But you were good at being quiet and sneaky, as proven when you made your way through the building. Nothing moved around you as you crept down the hallway, checking your doors and corners as you went.

The smell got worse the further into the building you went. You opened the door at the end of the hallway and paused for a long moment, swallowing hard.

The big empty room you'd seen in the plans was not empty. Instead it held a dozen or so metal cages, each one housing a small furry critter. A few of them moved as you did, eyes opening and feet shifting.

Intel had been wrong about this room, and you wished you'd never seen it. But you had to push through to finish your task.

You swallowed hard and crept around the outside of the room, focusing only on being quiet and avoiding any cameras. You couldn't worry about the animals, not right now.

The office, at least, was exactly where it was supposed to be. It took moments to find and grab the documents you needed, lips curling. Well. At least Horangi would be pleased with you.

Doing one more check of the room to be sure you had everything, you turned to go.

Soft chittering made you stop.

You couldn't understand the animals in the cages, no more than any human versed in body language could. But you could feel more empathy towards them.

They didn't deserve this. But you needed to get out without leaving any sign of your passage.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't loose the animals in the cages.

Jaw clenching, you forced your feet to move. Maybe you'd see if Horangi would let you come back and take care of the animals later. That was the best you could do, right now.

The trip back through the dark building was silent, and you hoisted yourself up to the window, hanging half-out to hand the documents to Horangi. He looked amused when you slithered the rest of the way out.

“Well done,” he murmured with an approving nod to you. Warmth filled your chest at the simple praise, and you basked in it for a moment.

“Seemed pretty easy,” you murmured cautiously as the two of you snuck away again. “I mean, for us.”

Horangi chuckled, dark eyes glancing at you. “Sometimes things are easy,” he murmured. “We're not paying for it.”

You shrugged. Something still seemed wrong, but if he wasn't concerned, you weren't going to make a fuss about it.

“You could sleep,” Horangi offered, even as he turned on the car to drive the two of you away.

“Nah. I'll wait.” You stretched out a little in the seat, head leaning back against the headrest. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hints of sunrise, promising more. “Where are we stopping?”

“Safehouse,” Horangi answered, even though you were pretty sure you were supposed to remember that from the briefing. “In case we need to go back.”

You hummed acknowledgement of that, glancing at him. Time alone with your pack alpha. You weren't entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Promise I won't bite.” He flashed you a grin with teeth.

You laughed, quiet but amused. “Ah yes, very reassuring.”

He smirked, fingers flexing on the wheel. “Nervous?”

“Not particularly.” You grinned. “You had your chance to murder me in the middle of nowhere.”

He chuffed at you, briefly letting go of the wheel to pat your knee. “Won't be my only chance.”

You laughed as his touch retreated again, leaving you warm and more relaxed than you should be. But you were learning to trust him, to give him bits of yourself.

It was a heady feeling.

The safehouse was boring, as most safehouses in your experience were. But it was warmer than outside and had blackout curtains, which would come in handy since the sun was up.

You left Horangi in the main room to scout the rest of the place. Not that there was much to see - a single bedroom, a bathroom that König would have been absolutely squished in, and a hall closet with spare supplies. Nothing glamorous. But it would do.

“Get some rest,” Horangi told you, sprawled along the length of the couch like a, well, cat. “I'll be up for a while.”

You eyed him for a moment, debating how much you could push. “You'll rest soon?”

“Yes.” Far from appearing offended, Horangi smiled, just a little.

You blinked at him, startled, warmth building in your chest at the sight of that smile. And promptly fled back to the bedroom.

You absolutely should not like the sight of his smile that much. It wasn't that big a deal. It really wasn't.

You were still trying to convince yourself of that when you dropped off to sleep.

You woke before Horangi, sneaking past him to get some water. He'd managed to fall asleep on the couch, legs dangling over one arm, head tipped at an angle and torso twisted into some weird position that only a cat could enjoy. Shaking your head, you twisted the top off a water bottle, guzzling half of it in one go.

Hopefully the two of you would get to head back to base today. Not that you minded being in a safehouse with him, but… it felt weird. Just the two of you, and no König.

It was odd to leave a pack member out.

Which was weird for you - it had been a long time since you'd been part of a pack, and longer since leaving someone out was even an option. All these realizations made you antsy, eager to do something, just so you weren't trapped in your own head.

“You think too loudly.”

You absolutely didn't jump at Horangi's voice behind you. You definitely didn't drop your water. “When did you wake up?” You asked him, eyeing him over the back of the couch. He hadn't moved at all.

“I've been awake.”

“Liar.”

His lips twitched into another smile, small but very much there. You had to look away as heat suffused your face.

“Any updates this morning?” You cleared your throat, picking up your water bottle and tossing it from hand to hand.

“Not yet.” Horangi swung his legs around the side, sitting up and cracking his neck. “We'll hang tight a little longer.”

You shrugged, wandering around the room aimlessly, too restless to settle.

“Sit.” Horangi patted the couch next to him. “You can answer a few questions for me.”

Well. That wasn't ominous at all. But you sat anyway.

“What do you need in the pack room?”

You blinked at him, mouth dropping open a little. That… was not what you'd expected. “What?”

“You heard me.” His lips twitched again, eyes warm with amusement.

Surprised, you leaned back against the couch, watching him. But he didn't change the question, didn't restate it. Just waited.

“Not sure,” you settled on, a little cautious. “I don't need much.”

Horangi made a short, dismissive noise at that. “Everyone needs something,” he insisted, head tipping to one side, gaze fixed on you.

You blew out a noisy breath. You'd never given it any thought, if you needed anything in the pack room. “I don't… really know,” you admitted slowly.

Horangi nodded slowly, never looking away from you. “Then we will figure it out.”

You swallowed hard, the implication that he wasn't going anywhere, that he and König would help, bringing both a rush of joy and trepidation. You honestly weren't sure how to feel, now.

Fortunately, you didn't have to figure it out. The phone rang.

You moved away as Horangi made a face, reaching over the couch to grab his pack and the phone. You went back to the window to look outside, only half paying attention to the phone conversation.

You needed to get your head on straight. Or move.

“Time to go.” Horangi stood, shouldering his bag.

You followed him silently back to the car, looking out the window without really seeing anything.

#run wild #shifter au #horangi x könig #horangi x reader x König

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