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eoieopda · 1 year

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Hello there jade! 🥰🥰 Can i please request a jealous + clingy seokjin? Thank you a lot in advance ❤️❤️

this may have ended up more sensual than originally planned, ope 🥴

cw: alcohol consumption, semi-possessive and intimidating implied dom!jin, surprise appearance by co-worker!jimin (not intended to be a creep, just the biggest flirt and also a chaotic bisexual because i said so 😏)

Even for a Saturday night, the club was significantly more crowded than you anticipated.

You’d walked through the front door with your little finger locked with Jin’s, but as soon as you crossed the threshold, the sea of bodies filled the space between you. The current pulled you apart and carried you in opposite directions. At his height, he should’ve been easy to spot; at yours, though, all you saw were the shoulder blades of strangers.

Deciding that your best vantage point would be at the bar, you slipped through the fray and ducked under arms as other patrons raised their glasses. Miraculously, you did it all in heels - without so much as a hair out of place. You huffed when you finally reached the bar, and turned back to gaze in the direction you’d just trekked from.

Still, despite fastidiously scanning over the room, Jin was nowhere to be found.

You turned back towards the bartender moments before a body sidled up next to you. Thinking the arm that brushed against yours was the one you were waiting for, you turned eagerly - only to find that the face smirking over at you wasn’t Jin’s.

“Didn’t expect to see you out in a place like this,” he leaned into your ear so you’d be able to hear him over the combined efforts of the deejay and the crowd. His cologne, you’d admit, was intoxicating. Familiar.

Park Jimin, as a matter of fact, had never seen you anywhere outside the context of your employment - let alone dressed the way you were. Tight leather pants, strapless corset top, blazer with a silk lapel.

You knew you were a smoke show. If the bottom lip pinched between his teeth was any indication, so did he.

“You drinking?” He gestured to the floor-to-ceiling shelves ahead. Any liquor you could’ve conjured in your mind was sitting there, waiting. All of it top-shelf, too; one bottle worth more than a sizable chunk of your paycheck.

Your eyes scanned the crowd but, once again, you came up short. “Depends,” you mused.

Jimin’s head tilted to the side as his narrowed eyes studied you. You’d seen this face before, this charm and self-assured posture. He used it frequently to snag clients and close deals and it worked every time - on men, women, and everyone in between.

But not on you.

You chuckled without glancing his way. You hoped your lack of attention would lower the temperature he seemed dead-set on raising, “On whether or not I intend to make my rent this month.”

“It’s on me, so I think you’re out of excuses, doll.”Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his eyes twinkle; still stuck on you. Then, he nudged your shoulder with his and teased, “Where’s your man, anyway? Can’t keep up with you?”

There was a hand sliding into the back pocket of your pants, but it wasn’t Jimin’s. You could see his ten, ringed fingers glinting over the countertop. Without looking, you knew exactly whose touch was laying claim.

Jimin’s smirk ran off and reappeared on your face.

“She’s quick, but I think he can manage,” said the man in question. When you turned your head to look up, up, up at Jin, his dark stare was actively turning Jimin to stone.

Once satisfied with his efforts, he leaned over the shoulder not occupied by Jimin’s. Jin’s plush lips hovered next to your ear while he inquired in a voice dropped low, “What do you think, love?”

Jimin looked like he didn’t know what to do. So, he raised his glass in salute, swallowed its contents, and smacked it back down onto the bar.

“Well,” he hummed as he wiped his mouth against the back of his hand, “Three’s a crowd - unless you determine later that you want one.”

He winked before turning on his heel to walk away. As he did, Jin’s arms encircled your waist and held you close. You leaned back into his hold; there, you promptly began to melt.

“You can order whatever you want, love,” He started, tucking one possessive thumb into the waistband of your pants. It warmed the bare skin it rested against, unmoving. “So long as I’m the one who buys it for you - and the only one who takes you home.”

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minsgelic · 2 years

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❝ SEOKJIN ▹ BTS ❞

Like or reblog Don’t repost

#bts #bts jin #seokjin #bts seokjin #jin #bts packs #bts headers #bts icons #bts layouts #jin packs #jin headers #jin layouts #jin icons #seokjin packs #seokjin headers #seokjin layouts #seokjin icons #kim seokjin #kim jin

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kdram-chjh · 1 year

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Cdrama: Shining Just for You (2022)

Gifs of Intro of cdrama “Shining Just for You”

ENGSUB 【FULL】星河长明 SHINING Just for You EP01 | 铁血帝王×草原天才少女 | 冯绍峰/彭小苒/朱正廷/程小蒙 | 奇幻爱情片 | 优酷华语剧场

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0ZjckYv7C4

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lostinadrama · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 (2023)

#the love you give me #cdrama #kim jin #mei bao lai #💀#THE SCREAM I LET OUT 🤣#你给我的喜欢

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binging-asian-dramas · 2 years

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Rattan. 7

Story: 8

Acting: 10

Chemistry: 8

Comparable to: A Korean Odyssey (kdrama); Hotel Del Luna (kdrama)

A very original storyline. It’s unique, engaging, entertaining, and has wholesome characters. Seriously the characters are very different and kind it brought a new take to a cdrama that I haven’t seen before. It definitely won’t be for everyone, it’s slow pace and it has a very slow burn romance as well. Despite that the scenery is gorgeous as well as the writing is just as beautifully written.

#rattan #rattan cdrama #cdrama #viki #jing tian #vin zhang #zhang yi chi #june wu #kim jin #daisy li #li yi xiao #fantasy #supernatural #romantic drama #slow burn #very slow burn #rich man #mystery

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quozacheese · 24 days

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körangi, everyone?

#doodle #fanart #call of duty #cod mwii #mw2 #modern warfare #horangi #kim horangi hong jin #könig #konig cod #korangi #körangi

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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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scurviesdisneyblog · 4 months

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Character designs by Jin Kim for an early version of Tangled called Rapunzel Unbraided. Claire and Vince were the original protagonists, while Lucretia the witch was the antagonist.

#disney #tangled #rapunzel #unbraided #early concept art #jin kim #disney concept art #character designs #disney animation #character design #early development #disney trivia #concept art #animation #animation art #art #artwork #illustration

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mausinly · 5 months

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

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

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

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

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

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diejager · 7 months

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Thought: Stepfather!König & dbf!Horangi

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

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

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

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

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

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cod-dump · 3 months

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*141 captured Horangi and is trying to get information out of him*

Horangi: Do whatever you want but I’ll never talk. The tiger NEVER betrays his allies

Soap: You didn’t just call yourself a tiger

Gaz: Suds, you do know what his codename translates to, right?

Soap: look it’s still cringy! Who the fuck refers to themselves like that with their codename??

Ghost: … I do

Soap: W-Well-

Ghost: You’re just mad you don’t have a badass codename. ‘The Soap’ doesn’t exactly invoke fear or respect

Soap: Neither does ‘The Gaz’!

Gaz: Do NOT bring me into this

Horangi: … is this a part of the interrogation process?

Price: … yes. If you don’t tell me what I want to know I’ll leave you stuck in this room with them

Horangi: Hold on now-

#call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #kim horangi hong jin #incorrect quotes

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eoieopda · 1 year

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(drive-thru voice) can I get uhhhhhhh a jin birthday drabble?

order up! 🥰 this is roommate!jin, quietly in love w/ his best pal, Reader. (12/18/22 ETA: a second part was requested, and you can find it here.)

After spending the majority of the day with his family, Seokjin was eager to spend the rest of it doing what he wanted.

The dream: fully horizontal on the couch, take-out container in hand, shouting commentary through a food-filled mouth at whatever absurd reality show you’d chosen off Netflix. There was a time where he spent his birthday in clubs, hosting parties, but that was all behind him now. He wanted carefree comfort, and for him, that was a night in with his best friend.

He heard the beeping the moment he reached the third floor, and it only got louder as he walked down the hallway. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline when he realized it was coming from your shared apartment. Worry guided him, elongated his gait, and caused him to stumble through the doorway. He skidded to a stop and braced himself on the side of the refrigerator to keep from toppling over.

A few meters away, there you were - standing on a counter stool, waving a baking sheet under the smoke alarm - with panic scribbled all over your face. With the alarm blaring and your dish still sputtering on the stovetop, half-charred, you hadn’t heard his entrance.

Seokjin wanted to ask if you were alright, but his shock won out. “You’re cooking? You? Cooking?” No matter how many times those words spilled in disbelief out of his mouth, he couldn’t make sense of the scene in front of him.

You shouted out your surprise when you snapped your head to find him there with his jaw hanging open. He was at your side within the blink of an eye to steady you when you wobbled on your pedestal. Right arm looping around your knees, he held onto you while his left hand pulled the pan from the still-lit burner.

This is why you let him handle the cooking; and why you called him the “master chef” to your “disaster chef.” He’d kindly reassure you that this wasn’t the case, but you both knew he was simply trying to make you feel better. It always worked, too. Since you started living together, he saw you learning to be a little kinder to yourself.

Your wide, wet eyes blinked rapidly as your gaze flitted from his face to your unidentifiable cuisine. “I’m sorry,” you said, though it was a wonder you could say anything at all with your bottom lip trembling the way it was.

Seokjin furrowed his brows, concerned over your reaction and confused as to why you felt he was owed an apology. “Sorry for what? I’m not the kitchen police, doll. You’re not under arrest.”

You accepted his hands on your waist, placed your own hands on his shoulders, and allowed him to lift you down from the stool. The cutest look of disgust he’d ever seen swept over your face as you viewed your creation up close. Without taking your eyes off of whatever it was, you mumbled, “I wanted to cook you a birthday dinner.”

His brain force-quit in that moment. All he could do was stare at you while he short-circuited.

You avoided the kitchen even when you weren’t the one cooking, so sure that your mere presence would ruin whatever was being made. You swore off the culinary arts for good after the Great Mandu Catastrophe of 2020 - your words, not his - and said you’d eat uncooked rice for each of your remaining days if it meant avoiding this thing you so clearly hated.

And yet here you were, voluntarily crossing the line you’d drawn in the dirt, for him.

He didn’t know what to do with the emotions tying knots in his chest. One of them had been sitting there, dormant, for years. Every now and then, like wings of a hummingbird, it flittered - at your stubbornness in refusing to call a plumber, and the look of pride when you fixed the sink yourself; at the hushed sound of your singing while you folded laundry; at the massage of your fingertips when his hand surgery prevented him from washing his hair himself.

In a flash, he turned to the cabinet to his left and grabbed a plate. Resolute despite your bemused expression, he then grabbed the handle of the pan before dumping the entirety of its - admittedly hideous - contents onto the ceramic. Just as quickly, he grabbed a pair of chopsticks off the counter and made a beeline for a stool of his own.

The plate clattered against the granite surface of the kitchen island, but he was undeterred. Before you could beg him not to, he shoveled a giant bite into his mouth. And when his first instinct was to gag, he swallowed hard and grinned up at you like nothing was burning on its way down.

The look on your face was a combination of horror and adoration. That sleepy hummingbird took off again at the sight of your tiny smile, only to be hypnotized by the twinkle overtaking the defeat in your eyes. Judging by the quickened thud of his pulse, it was floating somewhere near his heart.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you whispered, awestruck, apparently unaware that he’d do anything for you. You captured your bottom lip briefly between your teeth and rubbed your hand over the back of your neck. That sheepish smile opened up to exhale a chuckle. “Is it as awful as it looks?”

He answered honestly and prayed that you’d know what he meant and how sincerely he meant it. “It’s all perfect.”

Your amusement came out in a snort, caught in the hands that flew up to cover your blushing face. Your giggling was contagious, and before he knew it, he was laughing with you until you were both teary-eyed, beaming, and gasping for air.

Sighing deeply, you leaned over the kitchen counter, slotted your hand over his, and squeezed. Voice as warm as your smile, you said, “Happy birthday, Jinnie. I hope this will be your best year yet.”

Gazing fondly at you, he knew it would be.

(part two, as requested 12/18/22)

#jade’s drabbles #anon #ksj #bts seokjin #bts jin #bts imagine #jin imagine #jin Drabble #bts drabble #jin fluff #Seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bangtan #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #kim seokjin #kim jin #jade’s requests

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minsgelic · 2 years

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❝ SEOKJIN ▹ BTS ❞

Like or reblog Don’t repost

#bts #bts jin #bts seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts packs #bts headers #bts layouts #bts icons #jin packs #jin headers #jin layouts #jin icons #seokjin icons #seokjin packs #seokjin headers #seokjin layouts #kim seokjin #kim jin

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kdram-chjh · 1 year

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Cdrama: Shining Just for You (2022)

Zhu Zhengting #shiningjustforyou #theozhu #cdrama

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/NPYHw03Z-eA

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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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