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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months

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Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #cod smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #hiro watanabe #kim hong jin #simon riley x reader

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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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)

#call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #yandere horangi #horangi #kim horangi hong jin #kim hong jin #horangi x könig #horangi x reader #horangi x you #slashers

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orbuz228 · 1 month

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#horangi #kim horangi hong jin #kim hong jin #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #warzone

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rinnypyon · 9 months

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Draw your best friend

#horangi #kidergartens au #korangi #könig #konig #cod mw2 #kim hong jin #cod

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ojiisan01 · 9 months

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What a drip

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helcef · 3 months

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Horangi teefs

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finn-eltson · 10 months

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kiss? kiss.

#call of duty #cod #könig #körangi #horangi #cod horangi #cod fanart #könig cod #cod könig #korangi #honig #kim hong jin #finn art

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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months

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We need headcanon Horangi please! It's hard to find a good author who make Horangi one.

— Yandere Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin headcanons

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about kidnapping, heavy stalking, slight nsfw, and foreshadowing at volience.

A/N: Aw, thank you :)!!! Enjoy!!

Horangi is a heavy stalker, influenced by his massive possessive and obsessive streak. He isn’t so bad at the beginning, but once he realizes he requires you, he begins to be clingy like glue, manipulative, and too lucid into insanity.

It’s likely you two met during the military, the KorTac team being famously known for its dangerous members, including the many and König, Nikto, and the tiger himself. Maybe you were a new recruit with a code-name being as dangerous as themselves– which intrigued Kim.

Although, you could’ve met outside his prime area. A kind stranger, showing a simple act of kindness. And could you blame him for falling for you? You’re exactly what he needs.

He isn’t sure what’s so lovely about you. You’re like a drug, an addiction. Just like his past gambling one. And he knows you’re an addiction. You’ve crawled underneath his skin, and no high on earth can compare. And Horangi has fucking compared them all.

He loves admiring you from afar. Just staring at you, and though he doesn’t mean to make you nervous, he can’t help himself. You’re so pretty. So oblivious to the things he’d love to do, things he’d hate to do, and things he has done for you.

He leans against the wall, looking at you from a distance with a subtle smirk when you notice his gifts. He leaves them everywhere for you, even inside your house, on your comfy bed. The look on your face each time gives his goosebumps, a reaction so pristine at what he got you. Sure, a bit naughty. But he knows you’ll enjoy it, regardless.

The tiger and him work together on following you — stalking their prey from a distance. Yet, he feels insane whilst doing so. He bites his cheek so hard that he makes himself bleed, fighting against the natural instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you. Every pair of eyes that’s ever looked into yours. The arms and fingers who have ever touched you. And in a way, Kim selfishly wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They’re all a hindrance. All of them.

It’s no surprise that the famous tiger is rather blunt about things, it’s who he is in nature. Just how predators are, anyway. His attraction toward you is obvious, bothering not to hide it. Fleeting touches and constant flirting, claiming he’s simply being honest with you. Of course, Horangi isn’t a liar, at least not in his eyes. And truly, before he met you, he wasn’t. And strangely, he still isn’t. He speaks truth, he’s just being overly dramatic with it.

Your situation might be bad, perhaps there’s certain people you cannot trust. Horangi makes it seem as though you can’t trust anyone, aside from him of course. And, if you already have trust issues, it’s just extra points for him; making his job much easier, the gambling leaderboard kicking in with more coins. He’s aware that he’s tricking you, deceiving you in a roundabout way. But, he, in some way, believes it too.

It’s primal, the way he wants you. Beyond anything that has words lisped under a single breath. Relishes the day you say the word mine. Wants to carve his name into your lower hip, his initials, last name included, stuck on you forever. Wants to hear you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter K. Hear your heart struck, feel and taste the blood.

But, of course, he wants you to do the same. Wants to roll on his back on your bed, chest naked and let you sit on his lap, feel your hands on him, craving him just as much. He wants you to bite him. Scratch him. Make him bleed. Lavish him in so much needed love that he ends up losing himself to pleasure. But, those are just mere ideas for him, having him wait for the right time.

Besides his obvious… sexual desires, Horangi desires for your attention. Constant awareness of him, which makes him approach you, despite his obvious awkwardness of conversation.

He starts with small talk — watching you closely. Seeing what you like to talk about. What you dislike. What you love expressing with. He watches your body language, knowing you because of the few tricks he learned from his past.

With the amount of stalking he does, he knows your schedules by heart– randomly appearing at your station with a bag full of your favorite food, and some sweets. He even brings a board game for fun, sharing a few rare touches with you when you thank him.

Horangi smiles at himself under the mask, finally shivering at the sight of you touching him. Which makes him try on making you weak, at least on the knees; finally accepting him as your only boyfriend and soon-to-be husband.

And when you do accept Kim, he’s immediately placing himself whenever you go. You and him immediately move into a house together, large enough for you two and maybe a furry animal. But that doesn’t mean he leaves you alone, quite the opposite.

Heading off to see a friend? He’s coming! Need to head to the store for more body wash, why not let him go instead? He’s fast, and willing to pick up dinner for the two of you. Or, he’s more than happy to come with you!

You wouldn’t want to be alone… right? If you do, his touch becomes more dominant. His nails scratch and bruise. But he only shushes you, cooing at the marks he leaves on your skin, looking at you with iridescent eyes, “M’ sorry, you know I hate letting you go.”

With affection he shows it clear like glass through cooking, touches, and acts of service. He does everything you want him to do, and ironically, he’s a house-husband when he’s at home; doing most house-chores and cooking.

He shares the same dishes his eomma used to make for him as a kid. He’s excellent at diving vegetables, and loves cutlery platters. Although, Kim has a fear of you burning yourself, so when he’s not cooking, he helps by watching. He usually adds suggestions, or stirs the pot when asked.

His touches are overwhelming. He’s constantly touching you in some way, nudging your hand and legs, grunting for a kiss or your hand within his. A hand on your waist. His lips chasing yours, growling when you don’t give in fast enough, when you don’t melt like he does. His grip iron clad when you hold hands.

If you haven’t noticed, it’s obvious Kim can’t function properly when he’s gone too long without you. He swings too hard during training. Looks into people’s eyes with nothing but annoyance; his brown eyes tearing into their souls. He rips his bandages, snaps his red and blue pens by holding them too tight.

As long as you promise to be his, Kim will provide you with whatever you want. Your hands are to open at whatever you see; the price being negotiable up to a grand or two. But of course, he comes with his own things– surprising you by random gifts that he thought of you at the moment, a gentle smile plastered on his face when he sees you light up at it.

Possessive and lightly jealous like no other. He lets others know you belong to him with much PDA. He sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else can see. Bites that are deep into your neck and any part of your body. Having you sit in his lap whenever you’re in public, snuggling his face into your neck as you two talk.

Despite his unhealthy need for control, following and touching you everywhere, you’re still allowed to have friends. He doesn’t isolate you, completely. However, if he needs to, he will. Kidnapping isn’t on his radar, at first. If you ever try to leave him, in either way, he has you branded in ropes within the next few hours. It was rather an impulsive act, but Horangi needs to have you by himself, no?

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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2kiran · 7 months

Note

emememmemmm so can i basically js request overstimming horangi or smt (based off of ur alphabet at that part where he shifts into korean 🤷‍♀️) idek im feelign silly

“ 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 ”

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐈𝐍’𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄. 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄.

◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ guess you have to teach him english all over again.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ kim “horangi” hong-jin x dom!gn!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı handjob. fingering. overstimulation. google-translated korean. ⪩⭔⪨

“Hnngm!”

Horangi whined into his forearm, trying to keep his mouth shut as the pleasure he was experiencing was slowly becoming too much. Your slick hand was working up his spent cock. His previous orgasms allowing the glides of your palm to be easier.

Minutes prior, he had begged for his release, talking your eardrums off. Oh, he was definitely getting it.

“자기야— I can’t cu—ngggh!” ( honey ) His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull as you inch a finger inside his hole. “You can’t what?” You ask, the hand on his cock slowing enough to let him somewhat connect his thoughts.

“나는 더 이상 정액 수 없습니다...” ( i can’t cum anymore ) He mumbles under his breath, panting like a dog. His brain wires were twisted and crossed, tied in multiple knots as his stomach curls in anticipation of an impending release. The tongue that sits in his mouth was quickly forgetting English, replaced by his native tongue. He yelps, legs tightening around your waist when he feels the finger inside of him curl.

His thighs tremble at your sides. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, baby.” You tease, even though you’ve heard him say that enough times to register it’s meaning. “난 못해—” ( I can’t ) Your thumb presses against his slit and he whimpers. “I can’t! No more, no more, 더 이상은 없어! Ah-” He shakes his head, yet his hips chases after your hands that have been torturing him.

“Just one more and we’re done, alright?”

You both know that ‘one more’ doesn’t mean only one.

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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diejager · 3 months

Note

what happens when reader has the baby and:

A) It looks like Horangi which covers the half life.

B) It looks like König which exposes the half life.

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, age gap, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, silencing someone, tell ,me if I missed any.

A) In this scenario, it would make everything much easier for them to separate you from your mother, your only crutch in your living situation. Despite the shock and slight discomfort of your mother, she’s still proud of you for finding someone who loves and can provide for you while you’re still young and learning, especially since its someone she knows and in both your entourage.

Horangi would be over more often than he used too, stuck to you by the hip while you worked around him during the day and afternoon, seated so close to you, always touching you or always whispering filthy praises into your ears. Your mother was none the wiser, going on with her days as if nothing had changed, as if they hadn’t forced themselves onto you and knocked you up.

It didn’t take much encouragement from both men to have you permanently moved to Horangi’s home, the house beside yours that had been vacant until he moved with König. It was bare and minimalistic, boring even in every aspect —except for your room and the one for your little baby. Yours a softer tone of your colour and your baby’s a very calm and neutral brown and cream colours.

This would be the most favourable situation, you get to stay near your mother, scared, isolated and confined, but still interacting with your mother. You get to see her everyday, to smile and talk to her as much a s you wish and she gets to help you throughout your pregnancy.

B) In this one, König and Horangi’s hands are forced, you’ll have to move away and your mother silenced. You’re terrified and stressed, separated from your mother who just faced the worst thing in her life, the betrayal that flashed through her and the disappointment she felt towards herself for being so blind. You’re torn away from your struggling mother, taken away from her parentage and support to a place where only König and Horangi have access to.

Your mother is permanently silenced, that worried you, but neither men would tell you what they did to her except that she wouldn’t bother you anymore —that only frightened you more and stress was bad for the baby. You’d be without moral or mental support, without anything standing between you and them in their little heaven of a cabin, secluded and well-hidden from prying eyes and curious glances. They made choices, some smart and some idiotic, but they were all done for one reason.

They made it as if you disappeared from the rest of the world, dropping any sort of connection or relation to the outside world to keep you confined to the cabin, locked away with their attention solely placed on you, now that any sort of facade was out of the door. There was nothing to hide now, they would have you walking naked or only in a shirt, caring for your every need and fulfilling your cravings. They dressed and dolled you up, turning you into their pretty, pregnant wife that swayed and waddled with a swollen and heavy stomach.

This would be the worst situation to find yourself in, stolen and uprooted from anything you knew, being forced into a life of unknown and uncertainty. Your only source of human touch and affection are the men that took you away for their own selfish desires.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny

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konigceo · 6 months

Note

Idk if this is offensive but könig likes being cucked

no because könig sitting in a chair while horangi fucks u??? uhm!!!

gn!reader i think? might be afab, cucking but not sure if this counts, written by a minor dni if uncomfortable

i personally think its a hidden fantasy of könig to watch his s/o get fucked bc it's just proof of how even if u ger fucked brainless !! like ur still gonna come (literally) crawling back to könig, pawing on his pants and whimpering for him to fuck you niiiice and rough

anyways umm könig probably brings the topic up first !! he starts it slow, talking about horangi, you three going out to get drinks, and then him coming over. he makes sure to talk you through, telling you that you can stop whenever you feel necessary, and horangi tells u the same.

that being said ! hong-jin isn't the softest, either. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, pace rough. he lets out groans and the occasional whimper, telling you just how good you feel. meanwhile, könig is lazily pumping his fat cock while leaning back in a creaky chair, whimpering your name out.

one thing könig and horangi had to make a compromise on, was him making sure to pull out. as he'd said, 'not using a condom is fine, but don't you dare cum inside 'em.' so horangi reluctantly pulls out of you, spilling his load onto your back, as your orgasm rushes over you.

könig isn't far behind either, just a few strokes before cumming himself. so, he calls you to his seat, telling you to open your mouth wide, so he could cum straight down your throat. ur legs r shaking, and your mind is dizzy, but safe to say you got fucked just the way you wanted (o//o)

#lala speaks ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖#anonymaus ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖#könig x afab!reader #konig x afab!reader #horangi x reader #kim hong jin x reader #kim horangi hong jin x reader #call of duty #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #horangi cod #kim hong jin #könig smut #konig smut #horangi #horangi smut

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saturncodedstarlette · 17 days

Text

Medic!Y/N, tending to his wounds : Rate your pain to me, soldier

Horangi, breathing heavily : Zero stars

Medic!Y/N :

Horangi : Would not recommend

Medic!Y/N : You’re lucky I like you so much…

#Cod #Call of duty x reader #Call of duty incorrect quotes #cod x reader #cod x you #Cod Horangi #Cod Horangi x reader #Cod Horangi x you #Kim Horangi Hong-jin #kim hong jin #Kim Horangi Hong jin x reader #Kim Hong-jin x reader #Original prompt : Unknown

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

Text

Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 5

Your friend is being tortured. Unfortunately for you, Konig and Horangi aren't exactly satisfied with just his misery.

WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing

Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3

— Alright, kitten, let’s try this again. The knife goes inside, the guts go outside. What is there to mess up?

— Don’t…don’t call me that. — How should I call you then? Future victim? — No? Please?

— I’m old and I’ve seen all this shit before, kitten. Let me call you what I like and maybe, I won’t prolong his death too much. Or yours, for that matter. The shorter guy pushes the knight into your hands, making you press the blade against Max’s stomach. You refuse – as much as you can, with your trembling hands and desire to survive, no matter what. Max is frozen in the chair, tied up as securely as possible without cutting the circulation in his hands – the bigger psycho told you something about letting the blood flow freely, so your first killing experience would be more fun.

Fun – the fuck was he thinking?

Max is fixated in one place and you are holding the knife – well, to be quite certain, Horangi wrapped his hands around yours, making sure that you won’t try to wrestle the knife out of his hold and aim it at them. He makes you push the blade deeper, and scrap Max’s skin – his clothes were torn by the taller killer, another sentiment of his raw strength. You feel tears collecting in your eyes – you feel dread in every inch of your skin, walling in the endless possibilities of manslaughter.

You feel the interest picking up at the level of your groin. You try to tell yourself that this is just adrenaline, a natural reaction, the big guy was basically fondling your pussy and trying to get you as aroused as possible before he got distracted by his partner – it’s only normal that your walls are clenching around nothing, that you are trying to think about different things and failing miserably. You don’t feel excited about killing your friend because it is simply impossible – even when said friend is as fucking horrible as one person can be. Even when this friend crosses the academic rivalry and dives deeper into the river of being a fucking asshole Even when…

— Her hands are trembling. Cute.

— Kitten’s first murder?

— Should have left the slut for her. Would be a nice cat fight.

— Don’t think she knows how to fight, She doesn’t even try to get the knife, Ko.

You writhe in his hold, trying to resist his firm, strong hands pressing on yours – but you both know that you are merely pretending, that you just need to try something so you won’t feel as fucking horrible about not doing anything to save your friend. You say to yourself that this is simply self-preservation. You can’t resist your captors, you don’t want to die a horrible, painful death – which is why you are so ready to inflict that on Max. You’d pray for his forgiveness in hell, but you both know that he spends most of his time on r/Atheism.

Killers just love to speak like you are not even here – and you would love to not be here, you’d pay literally anything to just run away as far as possible, to not have them after you. You tried to run already, tried to resist – tried everything you could, and yet, it was impossible. No matter how much you try, they are always a step ahead of you – sometimes even literally, when they both are pushing you between them like you are merely a toy for their amusement. Perhaps, in some twisted way, you are. They speak over you, against you, and you hate the little nicknames they are giving you – treating you like a pet even though you do not know them, and they only know you for barely a few hours.

This is probably something about you, making you a perfect victim. You always thought that your adaptiveness was just a signal of people pleasing and a horrible lack of spine – but it saving you now, keeping you interesting enough for the maniacs. You’d pay anything not to be their favorite, but you already know how they treat those who are of no use to them. And you’re fucking scared of dying.

— You need to press deeper if you want to hurt him, Schatzen.

It’s a good thing that they gagged Max’s mouth. You don’t know why, it seems like too much mercy for someone like them, but at least you won’t have to hear him screaming – especially when König envelops your hands on top of the hands of his partner, pressing it against your friend’s soft gut.

You never knew that human flesh is so…vulnerable. You don’t even need any strength, they are doing all the job for you. you are the one holding the knife but you find a small mercy in thinking of your impact as just this – being a knife. An instrument. Instruments don’t have free will, you can’t blame a gun for killing a person – blame the one who fired it. You didn’t gut your friend, you were just doing what a good object is supposed to.

God, you feel awful.

— I don’t…please, don’t make me do this, please…

You whimper, pathetically – König can barely contain his erection. God, you’re simply fucking perfect like this, hands already covered in blood splurging from the small cut you made on this guy's stomach. In a rite of passion, König moved one of his hands to rip the gag off his mouth, listening to the beautiful squeals the guy was making. All of these pig-like screaming got him wanting a nice, hot Schnitzel. He licks his lips, tilting his head to look at the screaming man.

— Screams like a pig.

— More like a whaling dog.

— Cut him again, ja? Deeper, or you’ll be sitting next to him.

König knows that he won’t do it. You might be a weird addition to their little duo, but they both knew that they wanted someone, a pet for them to share – not because of some weird kinks, although it’s part of the reason, mostly out of a desire to be dominant to someone helpless, someone pathetic and weak. Someone who is so fragile would need constant protection, and constant putting in their place. Horangi’s savior syndrome and König’s control freakiness coming from his days as colonel made them…unstable, a bit.

Until they found little ol’ you.

— What the fuck are you doing?! Max can finally scream – and he screams at you, not the killers. You cry and shake, trying not to fall unconscious because of the tension and here he is, making sure that you feel as horrible as he is – mentally, for now. The pit in your stomach grows deeper with every squeal, you want to shut your ears and scream until your throat is sore, you want to push the knife away and hide somewhere. The hands are holding you in place and you can barely move.

You plead – you want to take Max’s place, you hate being the object of their affection, your hands are trembling and your body is barely moving. Your head is still pounding and you feel like you’re going to fucking die because you can’t even breathe and you panic and…

— Hey, Calm down, ja? You don’t want to do this?

König is surprisingly gentle when you sob, hands shaking uncontrollably. He pushes Max to the ground, poor guy is falling down, still tied up to a chair, probably hitting his head on the cold basement floor – Horangi pushes him even deeper with a kick on the ribs and you hear the sobs, so uncharacteristic for a smartass like Max. You don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here, you don’t want to-

— Please, d…don’t…

König gently puts your face in his hands, holds you as softly as someone like him can.

Then a hand lays on the curve of your ass – a harsh, rough spank that made your skin burn even through the jeans. You yelp, tears flowing freely down your face – König laughs, putting you in your place like a fucking unruly animal. The betrayal of the previous softness makes you cry.

— It’s okay, Schatzen.

You refuse to look when the knife goes inside Max’s stomach. You refuse to look even when the second guy twists your face in his hold and makes you open your eyes. Blood, nothing but it – it stains his clothes, your clothes, it makes you want to ouke and you fall to your knees because this is not happening, it could not be happening, your hands are clean and perfect, they would never be able to kill a living, breathing being – this isn’t something that you would do, ever. This isn’t something that…

— Thought she’d be calmer by now.

— She is a bit skittish. Might have to lock her in the basement.

— And getting rid of all the thrill.

— Didn’t you want to elevate us to the next level?

— I was talking about adoption, Ko. Maybe getting a freaking puppy, for starters.

— She’s the second best thing.

König’s hand goes to scrub your neck and you exhale loudly, still terrified of him. Poor, naive girl, just how scared you are of them – it’s funny, really, ridiculous even. They could have killed you any second now, so, if they aren’t doing it, you must be calmer now, no? Your reactions are adorable, but he starts to think that he won’t be able to make you choke on his cock like this. Scared animals tend to show their teeth and, well, he still wants his dick to be with him.

Maybe with a gag…

He pushes a finger in your mouth – to his and your surprise, you don’t even bite him out of instinct. You wince, but don’t refuse – just look at him like a caged animal. He liked that look on you, made you all nice and submissive just for him and Horangi. God, it was so long since they were with someone so soft, so…weak. He counts your teeth – might need to pull something out, a trophy for him. Tugs at your tongue and you immediately started to suck on his fingertip – a welcoming intrusion. He didn’t intend anything like this, just wanted to check your biting reflex, but if you are welcoming…

Hong-jin catches the look on your face and the expression that can be so easily read on König’s face. You’re both adorable, his perfect fucking partners – or a partner and his victim, to be quite right. He swiftly helps König undo his pants, knowing how tricky those cargo and multiple belts can be – everything to not let their prey get an advantage over them in any way. Getting sloppy seconds sucks, but the bigger killer would make you nice and warm for them, broken in exactly right.

Besides, even if you would bite off a few inches of König’s cock, it wouldn’t do much difference. The man would still be a fucking stallion.

You start to panic when Max isn’t even dead yet, and the killers are pushing their pants down, making you work your mouth on the enormous bulge in König’s briefs. You wince, closing your eyes and pretending that you are not here, that this isn’t happening, and you’re stuck in your happy place, actually, forever and ever, and…you want to cry and whimper, and you do – you can feel blood slowly coating the floor.

You lapping your mouth on the underwear of a serial killer while your friend is slowly bleeding from a deep cut on his stomach. You smell the usual things, that you are accustomed to already – sweat, blood, metal. The same knife that cut Max is pressing against your neck right now, urging you not to bite on the killer’s cock. You are worried more about vomiting all over his legs – but you don’t want to get your neck scrapped too. You gulp, seeing the outline of a huge, enormously thick cock poking out of the top of a simple black briefs. There is…there is no way it would fit – your mouth can only open so far, you are not a fucking snake, you are…

Horangi pushes his boot to your clothed cunt. Presses deep, the narrow part is strangely hot between your legs. Jeans and panties are securing your dignity for now, not allowing the full strength of those feelings to rise, but you were already aroused before and the new pressure is only making it worse now. You open your mouth – maybe in shock, maybe in a feeble attempt to make them stop – and König pushes the head of his cock right in.

Your throat is welcoming him. Tight and warm around his shaft, he can only push further and further, making it impossible for you to close your teeth enough to bite. He can feel the stretch of your jaw, how perfect the bulge in your throat looks for him – he can think of a few new ways of making your body bulge both from him and Horangi. It was quite a while since they had a partner to try double penetration with.

When you choke on the dick penetrating your mouth, Horangi can only chuckle, pushing his boot even deeper against your pussy. He can feel the wetness of your intimate parts, even through the jeans – you’re a dirty thing, getting off their touches while your friend bleeds to death. If he wasn’t so unsure that those pricks don’t have any STDs to give you, he’d use Max’s blood as a lube. Maybe make you lick it as you did with his knife. Maybe he’s…shit, all of these lewd thoughts make him want to fuck you right now – and he is certain that a dick in your cunt, no matter how wet and slutty it is, will break you right now. Fuckin’ civvies and their fragile brains.

— Where we would dump his body after it’s done?

Horangi can speak normally, for now. His dick is throbbing painfully in his pants, but he knows that at least one of them should remain calm and think with their upper head unless they want you to get away with your little friend. You are surprisingly resilient for prey – albeit a bit dumb, like all normal people are when the situation turns into a life-and-death one. His boot isn’t soft on your folds, the rough fabric of your jeans only making it worse - you still squirm and moan, crying on König’s dick and sending delicious vibrations down your throat.

— C…can feed him to the river.

König is breathing heavily, his hand goes to grab your hair and make you take his dick whole. He doesn’t really care if you are choking – giving you the opportunity to breathe through your nose should be nice already. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s still better than getting killed – you suck as enthusiastically as possible, just so you won’t make them too mad at you. Just so the feeling of heavy dick in your mouth would push away every other thought – about Max, for example.

The guy is still bleeding on the chair right next to you – but every last bit of your brain, still remaining in your head, is getting pushed to the very back by König’s dick and Horangi’s boot.

You whimper when the pressure on your pussy grows faster. You don’t want to cum, you can’t cum like this – fully clothed, covered in blood and scratches, on the boot of your tormentor. You don’t want this to be pleasurable, but it’s better than having them rape you raw – you try to say that your reaction is normal, you’re just adapting, you don’t actually get off your helplessness and the feeling of complete loss of power and responsibility, but you know that, deep down, it’s all bullshit.

You like sucking him off – you’re wet enough from the lack of oxygen alone, not speaking about anything else. You like being on your knees, supported by a boot rooting in your cunt – and you also adore the fact that you don’t have to do anything. König is content with slamming his dick in your welcoming mouth without calling you a passive bitch with zero skills, and Horangi seemingly gets off just making sure you’re as aroused as possible. In a different circumstance, you’d beg them for more.

In this situation, however, you just try to block out the bleeding guts of your friend less than a meter away from you.

— We have to keep her, Tigeren.

— What if she’d run away?

— I can cut off her legs…Scheisse, she just got tighter from this. Good job, Katzen.

— We can keep her in the basement, but she needs regular walks.

— I will walk her.

— With sawed legs?

— I can hold her in my arms.

— We still need to take care of her friends first.

They both humm in acknowledgment, Horangi almost stopped pursuing your tenderness – only to slam harder, getting on his knees to take off your jeans completely. You shiver in the cold air, feeling the torn fabric falling down your legs. Of course, just taking your pants off normally wouldn’t be enough – he needed to rip them off, breaking the boundary between a fashionable and unrepairable.

You whimper – the soft, thin fabric of your simple panties isn’t nearly enough to stop your puffy cunt from being wet. The white fabric is almost transparent from your juices, it’s pathetically easy for Horangi to make you squeal on his boot. He presses and rolls the rounded end down your panties and up your cunt, making you cry from the sensation. Your little whines only make the experience better for König – who already got his hand on the back of your head and slammed all length inside, making sure that your jaw would fucking hurt.

You choke when he suddenly slams into your throat with full force – not allowing you to just hold his dick in your lips like you did before. You choke even more as his cum fills your throat. You don’t have to taste it, thankfully, your tongue laying flat under his dick. You can almost expel yourself from the situation, pretending that it’s your favorite movie characters or videogame heroes.

You can try to pretend that you are not cumming from your pussy being folded by the killer’s boot.

— Did you cum? Good girl.

— College girls became sluttier since I was in college, ja?

— I doubt you were in college, Ko.

You hear their banter and can see the bigger man showing the other one on the shoulder. You don’t react, frozen in place, on your knees. Your naked legs are scraping on the floor, which is definitely filled with corpses and some nasty vermin – you can’t force yourself to care about it right now. You can barely fucking thing, just wanting everything to end so you could go to sleep happily. So you could close your eyes and never fucking open them again.

You are being ushed to the air by your hands – like a cat, the one from insanely long memes. You whimper, thinking that killers probably have half a mind of just fucking ending your life once and for all – you gave them everything they needed, and now your helpless figure, coughing down the cum coating your throat, is probably of no use to them.

You can try to save your life. Really, you can – maybe they won’t listen to you but maybe, if they didn’t kill you yet, they can consider just…letting you go. Maybe these predators are getting sated on just Max’s body. Maybe you can still try to run away.

— I…I don’t know who you are. If I just go, I won’t even be able to tell the police anything.

— You’re implying we let you go because you don’t know who are we?

— I won’t tell anyone. I don’t even know German!

They laugh. The worst possible reaction – you feel blood drained from your body. God, are…are they going to murder you because of this little stunt? The bigger guy goes to you, cupping your face in his hand.

The other one goes under his mask.

— Hans, callsign “König”. Colonel for mercenary company, if that’s not enough.

You couldn’t even close your eyes before you saw him fully – ginger hair, uneven stubble. Face, covered in scars. You want to say that this is the face of a killer, you know this is the face of a killer – the handsome one. The pretty one. Not in the way that boyband singers are pretty, not cute – but you can’t deny that putting a face to your tormentor figure made your already soaked cunt even more wet.

— Hong-jin, callsign “Horangi”. Still think we’re going to let you go?

They are handsome – both of them. Without masks, their voices are unfiltered, pure. You see a handsome Asian man with a face covered in scars and burn masks, and his partner, covered in the same fashion. You knew they must be from the military, judging by the uniform and mannerisms – but you never knew they would be this…

You begged them to let you go, saying that you won’t tell anybody about them. You both know that you are not getting out of this forest alive, knowing their names and how they look like – you won’t even be able to pull out a “Hush” move and just text everyone who are they – no cell service and no family to try and search for you in rural Austria.

You collapse to the floor when König gently pushes your face up, smothering your lips with a kiss.

You are not getting out of this forest.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #horangi x you #horangi x reader #horangi x könig #yandere horangi #horangi #kim hong jin #slashers #slasher

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