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blukrown · 1 year

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Tension's Release - Konig!Bowl [NSFW]

Konig is stuck on a mission between an ex, a current fling and a flirty superior. What is he to do when the stress gets too much?

Or read on AO3

CONTAINS: Trans! Konig, Sub!Konig, voyeurism, squirting and hinting rough sex & vaginal slapping

Konig was tasked with a several day long mission, expected to do several days of recon and scouting before their day of attack. It was a lot of work and stress, the tension building by the day.

And it was not just Konig. His fellow soldiers, Krueger and Horangi as well as his commanding officer Ghost, all emanated this hint of tension. And it was not just because of the mission.

Krueger had been an ex-lover of Konig’s from his recruit days. Matching Konig’s ferocity in battle, they had found comfort in each other. Krueger protecting Konig’s aversion to crowds and Konig being a shoulder for Krueger to lean on. This friendship soon evolved into something more fairly quickly. It had all ended when Konig was redeployed, both being far too busy to keep in touch. Now they were back in the same unit and although they had played as friendly, Konig could sense there was more, still under the surface.

Horangi had, like Krueger, recently become a stout companion to Konig. Both relied on each other off and on the field so much so they had been paired by their superiors, rarely being separated on missions due to their reliability whilst together. It was unsurprising when they fell into bed together several times, if not that, against a wall or door or whatever other surface could hold their fevered weight.

Ghost was, above all else, Konig’s superior. But he was not stupid. Konig could sense the older man’s eyes on him. When he was in the gym or practising drills, lingering too long on his arms, thighs or chest. He noted each time the man passed him in the hall, how he would almost always intentionally let his shoulder brush his. How he did not flinch when their hands brushed when exchanging papers. But Konig knew anything more than acknowledgement was wishful thinking.

It was not surprising that this all came ahead on the night before the final leg of their mission, the attack.

They were all prepared and knew what they were expected to do. But all of them knew it was going to be difficult. The target’s security was tough and their men well armed. The air in their hideout was tense, thick enough you could cut it with a knife.

Konig knew he would not be able to sleep in the state he was in. Muscles bunched and mind whirring with fears and worries, not to mention the lingering questions surrounding the other men who rested around him. Horangi to the room to his left, Krueger to the right and Ghost on the couch in the area ahead of Konig’s door. It was like, even though they all slept, Konig could feel their eyes watching him. Felt their desire like they were in the room.

It made Konig’s skin ripple with goosebumps and a stirring begin between his legs.

Konig knew just the remedy to fix this agitation, however.

It started with Konig getting comfortable, which was difficult what with the tiny, bashed single bed he was provided, but it would do for now. He had at first settled under the blankets, wearing just a shirt and boxers. Konig lay on his back and, once satisfied, let his dominant hand move between his legs.

He started by palming at his mound above his underwear, cupping his sex and letting his fingers graze past and through to give faint gratification. He did this for a few moments, allowing his mind to calm its busy traffic of thoughts to settle. Focusing his attention to something to bring greater pleasure along with his own touch.

He found himself recalling the last time Horangi went down on him. How he had Konig perched on a table in an abandoned briefing room at head base, bending the larger man over until his knees were near his head. His mouth on his cunt, making Konig coo and keen with each lap of his tongue.

Konig hummed faintly as he reminisced, his middle and ring finger toying with his cock through his boxers. Feeling slick start to dampen the crotch.

His mind carried on, remembering how Horangi’s thin, dexterous pushed inside him as he sucked on Konig’s budding cock like the sweetest candy.

Konig let out an audible sigh but then bit his lip, realising he shouldn’t be too loud or else risk being overheard by the others. That did not stop him from continuing, however.

He felt himself growing hot, felt sweat threatening to brim on the skin of his forehead and pits. Reluctant, Konig quickly kicked off the sheets so he only lay on the mattress with open air being his only bed companion.

Now a bit eager, Konig tucked his hand past the waistband to get at his own cock. Needing more of his own touch without the barrier of soft fabric. It felt more raw as he touched himself like the dial had been turned from five to eleven. It almost had his hand faltering so as not to overwhelm him too quickly, giving himself a moment to recalibrate.

He thought about Horangi’s hands and fingers. How, even though his own dwarfed the Korean’s, they held and clutched at him firmly. Manhandling him to fit into the perfect shape for Horangi to enjoy him all the more, sometimes in positions that challenge his or both of their flexibility. Which made it all the more thrilling.

Rubbing from entrance to cock, spreading slick with his two fingers, Konig longed for that steady touch again. Missing how his thighs or chest would be squeezed, his hips steadied or back being pushed down onto the mattress. He thought of hands growing rough, starting to scratch at his back and pull at his hair.

He was thinking about Krueger now.

Although Konig felt a wiggling of self-reproach, he pushed it to the side. He had done more shameful things to Krueger than just this.

He thought of how rough he had used to play with Krueger. How they used to leave behind bite and scratch marks, blemishing their skin for days at a time often replacing them with new ones before the first fade.

Konig remember one heated exchange, where Krueger had harshly pushed him down over the bed whilst he still stood. Only able to feel rather than see Krueger hurriedly pull his pants down. Konig, now, felt himself shiver at the thought of how exposed he had felt. Feeling Krueger’s eyes on his pussy, seeing just how wet he was. Konig bit at his lip as he keened, recalling how Krueger had then slapped at his cunt, careful but firm.

Konig felt himself fidget on the bed, hand giving up on his cock for now and moving lower. Pressing a finger past his folds inside, feeling his own walls flinch at the intrusion.

Although his fingers were larger, they were not particularly as filling as he would have liked. But they would have to make do.

Krueger had been so rough then. Having both finished sparring, Krueger had demanded through huffed breaths to follow him back to their shared dorm. Where after pulling his pants down and slapping his cunt, he had pushed his cock in with no warning. But Konig had not minded one bit, groaning delightedly by how filled he felt. Welcoming the familiar obtrusion and squeezing around it, forcing a restrained grunt from the man behind him.

Konig found his own g-spot, pressing on it and letting out a flailing gasp before hastily cupping a hand over his mouth. Adding another finger, he curled and pressed at the most sensitive of spots until he had to squeeze the palm of his hand against his lips as groan after moan threatened to be released.

Krueger had had one hand combed through Konig’s hair and pushing him down to the mattress, fucking into him so hard the slapping of hips against ass deafened the sounds of pleasure from the two of them. Soon leaving the skin of his cheeks raw, red and tender when Krueger had squeezed them later.

Konig at present, whimpered as he added another digit, thinking about how Krueger had leaned over all the while continuing his mirthless thrusts to talk by Konig’s ear. Telling about how tight his cunt was, how wet and warm. How he was going to cum inside and relish watching each drop slide out of him. Telling him, no, demanding him to take it all.

Konig had always considered asking Krueger to order him around with words instead of just by push or shove. Demanding Konig to obey if he wanted more.

His mind daringly thought about his superior. How his low, stern voice. Growing raspy with exertion, excitement or frustration. Sounding almost debauched even over comms mid-mission.

Konig feels guilt bubble in his chest, fingers still moving as his mind prodded for more. But he was too far gone to let negativity get to him and potentially ruin the bliss he was currently experiencing. Let him indulge, just this once.

Ghost ordering him to strip and get onto the bed. Once completed, then telling him to open and spread so he can have a good look. The thought had an immense shiver travel down his spine, so harsh that Konig’s hand disappeared from his mouth to clutch at the sheet below him. Leaving his mouth free to dispense another debauched moan.

His fingers inside were satisfying but not orgasm-inducing, not by themselves anyway. Having enough of his dirtied underwear, he pulled his boxers down and off himself so he was straining just that little less before returning to his throbbing cock.

Now naked, with nothing to hide his shame, it made Konig all the more aware of the other occupants of his surroundings. His mind boldly wondering if they noticed the noises emanating from his room.

Konig’s fingers rubbed at his clit, his head rolling back on his shoulders to press further into the pillow as he thought.

Horangi was just behind the wall at his bedhead. The easiest to hear him, Konig hoped Horangi was aware of just what he was doing. Perhaps his own, cleaver fingers were touching himself too in tandem with what he heard.

Krueger’s resting place was through the neighbouring wall and Konig wondered if he was listening. Ears keening for each sliver of sound with cock hard between his legs. His strong, demanding hands clutched onto the fabric of his sheets. Squeezing as if to temper the tension that was rising from his erection.

And then Ghost.

Lieutenant Ghost was just on the other side of Kongi’s door, having volunteered to sleep on the couch and be guarding his subordinates as they slept. Konig knew Ghost was a light sleeper and he considered for a moment if he had woken him up with his sounds. Not touching or moving but silently listening in, knowing well just what Konig was doing.

Konig moaned outwardly, finding himself not caring at all now if any of his compatriots heard him. If anything, he would be glad if they did. Let them hear how much he wanted them, needed them. How he wanted all of them to touch and kiss and fuck him until he was nothing but a puddle of pleasure-drunk nerves.

Konig was now a growing mess on top of the bed, hand rubbing feverishly against his bud of nerves. Feeling his climax nearing but still not yet cusping.

Thought upon thought, image after image, desires upon filthy desires kept building in his mind. Blurring into a need for just it all, for pleasure, for lust, for all of them to see just what they were all doing to him.

Konig was gasping and moaning like he truly wanted them to hear. Let the noises be engraved in their minds for the rest of the night. Let them see him in the morning and hear it in their heads like a spirit forever haunting them.

Fuck he wanted to cum so bad. His hand like a blur between his legs as he rubbed at his clit with all of his wet slickened fingers.

Feeling that wave building, and Building, and BUILDING and-

Konig suddenly came tumbling down, releasing all the tension so sheer he almost felt lightheaded. His body wriggling as pleasure shook his very bones. Eyes watching in ecstatic-filled horror as he saw a squirting of liquid spray forward. Soaking his hand and soiling the mattress below.

Although a surprise, Konig kept rubbing his cock, wringing every last drop of rapture he could muster. Bumbling and whimpering and moaning all the while, faint words like ‘yes, oh, god, fuck, bitte’ spewing past his lips. His hand only stopped when he feared overstimulation to the point of loss of feeling in his cock.

His hand dropping to his side and body going limp where he lay. His chest heaving, taking in deep gulps of air like he had almost drowned. Still uncaring if others heard as he came down from the highest of cloud nine.

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swemory · 4 months

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day 4 :: Korangi bunnies

(sorry this ones lacking)

stay tuned for more CoD bunnies tomorrow :)

follow me for more silly CoD art

IMPORTANT!! ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW ::

might not update tomorrow, but if i dont then the day after i'll have two drawings; one for that day and the day i missed that way theres no missing drawings. i am still completing this for the whole month but i think im getting sick & my mental health is on a major decline 🫂

again, apologies for how much this one is lacking, i didnt have as much focus nor time & im not in good health ,,

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deathsprofit · 9 months

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// Horangi’s actor wanna read some fanfics and he’s often paired with konig lmao fans comments are hilarious 🤣 dont do it boi you’ll have regrets!

#ooc #horangi x konig #kinda feel bad #he’s gonna b destroyed lmao

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99pm-e · 9 months

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Brainrot is brainrotting again guys

#art #call of duty #fanart #mw2 fanart #horangi #konig #korangi #honig #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x horangi #hes like a big fluffly dog #99pm

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months

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Rough Sex w/ MW2

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

Ghost

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

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

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

“Isn’t that right, Darlin’?”

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

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

Without warning, he pushed. Hard.

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

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

König

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll make sure of it.”

Soap

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

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

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

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

Valeria

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

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

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

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

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

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

Price

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Horangi

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

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

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

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

He persisted. Hissing.

When he pulled out, he spotted something.

A small streak of blood along his shaft.

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

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

Alejandro

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rudy

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

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

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

“Now, tell me who you belong to.”

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

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

“Or I won’t be so forgiving.”

Graves

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes glinted as he looked down at you.

“Ain’t that right, Doll.”

Gaz

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

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

He didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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diejager · 3 months

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👉👈 imagine reader as a cow living in a nice farmer but because they doesn’t produce any milk than other cow, the owner was worry so they brought lot of Bulls (task 141, kortac) to chose as mate but all of them wanted the cow.

Credit to @frogchiro and @nymphany for this!

Pasture Cw: hybrid, mention of breeding, milking (milk and cum), SLIGHT DUB-CON, SLIGHT DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.

Price, the gentle, bear-looking farmer, had initially planned to have you milked, his high-end and pedigree from an ancestry of HoJos spanning many generations that he bought for a high price, soft and plump in just the right areas. He heard from Kate that she and her wife had bought a couple of HoJos, making quite the profit on their milk, fatty and thick, but silky on the tongue. He wanted to have such luxury in his arsenal, a cute, little heifer that he’d milk for the sake of tasting and drinking it to fill his stomach with warmth until he decided to sell a few bottles.

He wasn’t in any need for money, he had enough to last the rest of his life without lifting a finger, but he liked keeping busy, work and routine beaten into his body from the military. He already had a business with the amount of bulls he bought, broad and sturdy, powerful hybrids that he could milk for their potent semen and labour. Most were obedient despite a bull’s temperament, listening to his orders like his subordinates would, following them to a T without a complain. But there was always that one who acted out, either from sheer cheekiness or mischief, he would reprimand them, punish them if it went too far.

He thought he’d experiment with you, his new little obsession he would coddle and pamper with a house of your own and an open stall. You were so well behaved that he could leave the house open to let you graze and sunbathe under the warm sun when you weren’t busy with him training you with various aspect of your new life as his prized possession. You were everything he could’ve ever wanted, obedient, gentle, soft-spoken and eager to please him, letting him suckle on your swollen and heavy tits, your ears flickering back and forth and tail wrapped around his thigh.

His only issue was that you had problems producing milk. You would produce trickles of it some days and a gush of milk the other, it was a disorderly affair that he sought to fix if he wanted to create a stable trade with you alone. When he brought the issue up with Kate, she told him that cows usually produced more milk after birthing, breasts heavy with milk and aching to be milked of it’s produce, thick and rich tasting to raise a little calf that he would soon sell than let them take your attention away.

“Introduce her to the bulls, they might help,” were the mind blowing words that Kate’s wife gave him, the cementing proposition that had him make his mind on the next step.

He introduced you to his bulls, bringing them outside of their stalls and letting them roam the fenced pasture beside yours, watching you lay under the sun and ears flick away a buzzing bug. They’ve seen other hybrids before, women especially, but have never shown any interest in of them. He feared he’d have to introduce you to another farmer’s hybrid (Price wanted to take thing into his own hands, but he didn’t know how you’d take it to his advances) if you didn’t catch their attention, bringing in a stranger to breed you.

Fortunately, they were quick to scent you out, seemingly riled up and pumping out more seed since he bought you, restlessly wandering in circles in their stalls to sate the need to get to you as fast as they could. Their eyes gleaming with arousal and nostrils flared to sniff you out, stalking to the edge of their pen, the metal unflinching to their harsh grip on the fence. They looked starved - possessed - with how eager they were to cross the barrier, hollering at you and trying to coax you towards their side of Price’s land.

Soap and König looked the most out of it, slumped over with deluded perversion of need and hunger, arms reaching for your seated figure, staring at the group of bulls with wide eyes. Nikto wasn’t any better, both he, Krueger and Ghost glaring down at you with vicious and burning eyes, lost in their minds of dark desires and corrupted dreams. Gaz and Horangi were softer, more hesitant to spook you, but they were as restless as the rest of their housemates. You were none the wiser, gazing at them with your pretty, doe eyes, meeting their eyes with innocent and a cute smile, always ready to please others.

Perhaps he should’ve acquainted you all before.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny

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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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tawnfawn · 4 months

Text

intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead.

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons.

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?”

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

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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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gremlingottoosilly · 18 days

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omggg please more mafia!Konig sharing his wife with his men!! Im obssesed

It's not always bad. When Horangi is drunk, he almost turns into a kitten with a very severe case of puppy love. When he is drunk and just recently won in cards, he cherishes your body like you're the prettiest woman in the world. Konig appreciated you, of course, but his obsession is often blind - and it leaves you feeling like he doesn't really like you. More like the idea of having you...and as adorable as it might be, it's not quite enough. Sometimes his men worship you - and it's always weird, unsettling even. You never quite know the reason for this, and it's almost always for some strange and particular reason, but you're trying your best to stay calm as Krueger hugs you with the passion of a toddler squeezing a toy in his hands and screaming. They are a bit like children and their toys if you think about it closely - they are screaming, whining, especially while drunk, cling to you like you're the last girl on earth. You never thought they'd be so damn clingy, but here you are, forcing yourself to shut up as Konig jokingly asks them if they are in love with his precious, kidnapped wife. The problem is...they kinda are. It's nice sometimes. When Konig doesn't want to punish you and he is fresh out of a very successful gun trafficking mission, he allows his men to be a bit more sappy with you. Hug you, kiss you, maybe even go out with all three of them at your side like you're their little shared girlfriend. It's fun, really, just how much they adore you - and you feel a bit scared at first, but you ultimately see that they are, in fact, being soft with you. It's like having three overprotective boyfriends who make you light their cigarettes and who will hold your drink as Krueger beats the shit out of the poor guy who didn't know who you belong to. Horangi will win you something pretty in a game of poker and then allow you to drink from his glass when Konig is way too overbearing. Krueger is going to protect you from any creep, and the sex is... With all three of them not trying to hurt you as much as possible in the little time they are given with you by Konig, they can actually be quite nice. At least, as nice as someone like them even can be, at least...

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig #horangi x reader #krueger x reader

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crimsonbubble · 7 months

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Cod men being absolute munches please ❤️❤️

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, oral, overstimulation, panty stealing (dont ask pls im depraved), beard burn, scent kink of some sort *not proofread, just pure horny

[BRB LOSING IT RN]

kinktober masterlist

MINORS DNI!!

ghost is messy and kinda pervy. like he'll keep his mask on when he tells you to sit on his face type messy. will not take the mask off until you've soaked through it but you can feel his tongue push against the rough fabric as he bumps it against your clit. he has definitely used the soaked mask as fap material when he's away from you. though he's not opposed to stealing your panties if his masks aren't available to him.

if ghost was messy, then soap is sloppy. he's doped out on your taste and scent. he just wants all his senses to be you. loves to squeeze your hips while your push his face closer against your pretty cunt. once he starts, he won't stop. he just thinks you always have too much on your mind, so he's doing you a favour and making him the only thing on your mind. also, you just look extra pretty when you're tearing up sensitivity. loves how you can't tell if you want to pull him closer or push him away.

price is so so attentive. he's peering up at you as he sucks your pretty clit into his mouth. makes your thighs clench around his head just because he loves seeing how easily your body reacts to him. also loves to hear you complain that your skin is raw and sensitive but then again it is unbelievably hot to see your captain's beard dripping in your arousal.

gaz loves to have you sit on his face. literally smother him, it's what he wants. heavily encourages you to ride his face as you please. grabs your ass like he's getting paid to do so. can not and will not keep his hands off you. if you offer to suck him off, good god he'd make sure to give you the most mind blowing, toe curling, gut wrenching orgasm ever.

alejandro loves control, but he's always willing to sacrifice it for you. he'll let you take the reigns; want to sit on his face? he'll happily lie down for you. want to have him on his kness? he's already there. while his mouth is busy working on your sticky cunt, his hands are roaming all over you. it's like he's trying to commit the curves and slopes of your body to memory.

rudy is a certified lover boy. literal hearts in his eyes when he's needy for you. wants, no needs you to sit on his face. he just wants to feel your thighs on him. holds your hips down on his face so he can tongue fuck you and bump his nose into your clit.

horangi downright abuses your sweet little clit. he can't help it, you make the sweetest noises when he overstims you. he'll pin your hips down on the bed so he can trace his name on your clit with his tongue. loves to hold eye contact with you when he goes down on you. def the type to stop when you close your eyes or look away.

konig forces you to put your weight down on him. don't just hover on him. sit on him. full weight. doesn't matter if he can breathe or not. though he prefers to situate himself between your thighs with his hood on, so you can't see what he's gonna do. once you cum on his face, he isn't letting you go until you do it again. forces your body to move along his face so he can continue to please you.

keegan finds it more amusing to just pull his mask up over his nose to eat you out. simply bc he can't be bothered to take it off completely. he's a clit kisser. and he makes out with your pussy too. sitting in his office chair while he's kneeling under his desk so he can eat you out. loves to finger you while he kisses and licks your clit.

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blukrown · 1 year

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Missing You Pt 2 - Horangi x Konig [NSFW]

Horangi returns from his mission, will he learn of what Konig got up to while he was away?

PART ONE

Or Read on AO3

Horangi was relieved to see the KorTac base again. Two months undercover in a shitty hideout meant he had come to miss his small quarters, basic meals and the friendly faces of the team. Especially that of his partner, Konig.

It was going into the evening when Horangi’s heli landed on the tarmac and he finally felt solid ground after hours of flying. Not getting a moment to catch his breath before he was ushered to a briefing room. Needing to debrief and write his mission report. Horangi did as he was ordered, making sure to be quick about it. The jitters of being home and being so close to Konig had his knee bobbing under the table as he wrote. Eyes looking to the clock and hands flicking through each page, hoping he would finish before curfew. Finally done, Horangi was quickly out of the door.

Determined to hunt down Konig, he realised his quarry was just outside the briefing room door, leaning against the wall.

Konig lifted his head and his blue eyes closed in a bright smile. Immediately stepping away from the wall to meet Horangi at the door.

“Horangi, welcome back,” Konig said cheerily.

“It’s good to be back,” Horangi replied, looking up and down the hall, he frowned. “Were you waiting for me?”

“But of course! I came as soon as I heard you had arrived.”

Horangi’s frown only worsened at that, “How long?”

“N-Not long,”

“Konig . . .”

“ . . . Two hours.”

“ Two hours ?” Horangi repeated, exasperated. “You didn’t have to do that. I would've come to find you as soon as I was done.”

“I know . . .” Konig mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. “But I wanted to. I . . . I wanted to be the first person you saw when you came back.”

Horangi’s heart twinged in delightful heartbreak at the thought and he could not help but let out a small laugh, “Well, aren’t you sweet.”

Konig only flushed, the small bit of skin around his eyes blooming red even through the black paint.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked, knowing he himself was starving as he had not eaten since before his exfil earlier that day.

Kongi shook his head, “No, not yet.”

“Let’s go get dinner, then. And I’ll tell you all about the mission.” Horangi said while nodding with his head to follow him.

“I would love that.” Voice sounding genuinely delighted.

The towering Austrian then took to Horangi’s side as they walked. Shoulders brushing with each step.

. . .

The two enjoyed a filling but boringly simple meal from the mess along with Horangi recounting his mission. Gladly answering any of Konig’s questions and preening when he heard Konig’s praise. All the while, their legs brushed under the table, both restraining their need for closeness until later, when they were alone.

Luckily, they did not have to wait long, as Konig gladly invited Horangi to ‘visit’ his quarters. Which, between them, meant Horangi would not complete his visitation until morning.

Konig ushered Horangi inside and closed the door, happy to see Horangi in his personal space again.

Horangi went to sit down on the edge of the bed, going about removing his sunglasses and mask now that there were no prying eyes to watch. Konig himself had just removed his hood when he noticed it. The pillowcase he had pilfered from Horangi’s room had been abandoned on his bed. Right where Horangi was sitting.

Konig hastily grabbed the case, hoping Horangi did not see it. It appeared so as Horangi only looked at him in confusion at his sudden movement.

“What are you doing?”

“N-Nothing.” Konig mumbled as he quickly went to his dresser drawers.

“Then what are you holding?” Konig flinched when he heard Horangi get up from the bed. Pulling out a drawer intending to hide the item until further notice.

“It’s really nothing.” Closing the draw and turning, Horangi was right behind him, making Konig jump.

“Then why are you hiding it?” The taller man almost flinched again when he saw the suspicion in Horangi’s face. Scarred lips thinned into a line and handsome eyes squinting as he tried to look past him.

“I . . . Uhm . . .” Konig started, eyes nervously darting between Horangi and the drawer. “It’s . . .”

Horangi’s sharp gaze softened as he realised he may be distressing him. Reaching out, he took one of Konig’s hands in his own. The Austrian’s hand was unsurprisingly large, with broad fingers and callouses from where he held his weapon. Horangi’s were dwarfed slightly in comparison, not that he minded. Horangi could probably look at them for days, admire them, touch them, kiss them. He was almost tempted to but he had other matters to attend to first.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Horangi reassured, squeezing the palm of Konig’s right hand between both of his own. “But you can tell me anything, ok?”

Konig seemed to ponder over that, his eyes looking to the drawer once before he looked back to Horangi. Very clearly torn between whether to explain himself or not.

“I . . . It’s a pillowcase f-from your room.”

“From my room?” Horangi echoed, a bit confused.

“I went to drop off that book you gave me,” Konig explained, voice hastened in an effort to explain himself. “And I . . . I er- got . . . Got distracted.” His hand between Horangi’s own squeezed. “I thought it best to take it for . . . For safekeeping.”

Horangi only needed a moment before he connected the dots. His heart then swelling as he realised just what this meant. “Did you miss me that much?”

“M-More than that! I think I would have gone a little crazy if you had come back any later. But I did not steal anything else! I thought this might not be of importance so you would not miss it when it was gone.”

Horangi felt a smile curl his lip, his whole chest feeling this dull sort of ache as he listened to Konig. Could someone feel sad but also so overjoyed at the same time? Because Horangi thought he felt it, with his chest aching but heart soaring at the thought of what his absence had meant to Konig. That he had been so desperate for anything tangibly Horangi’s that he had stooped to taking something of his to ensure he did not grow too lonely.

Someone else may have thought it a tad unhealthy but to Horangi it was one of the most romantic things he had ever heard.

“You can have whatever you want Konig, just say the word.”

“Oh,” Konig looked visibly surprised by that. His eyes lowered to look over Horangi’s form. “Then . . . Then can I have your shirt? O-Only after you’ve finished using it . . .”

Konig faltered as his eyes grew wide. Watching as Horangi took off his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and holding it ourt to him.

“Go on,” Horangi pushed the clothing into Konig’s hands. “It’s yours.”

Konig’s fingers were trembling slightly, apprehension and thrill making his heartbeat ring in his ears. Looking down at the fabric - to the untrained eye it was nothing special - a grey military issue t-shirt with the KorTac emblem covering where the heart would be on the left. But for Konig, it was like a priceless treasure. The cloth was still warm from Horangi’s body heat and even from this distance he could smell the hint of sweat that had set him off a few weeks prior. His hands were now shaking as he lifted the shirt to his nose, feeling his face burn red as he did it all the while Horangi watched. Sharp eyes not ever looking away, partially lidded and pupils blown out as it appeared that Horangi was quite enjoying what he was watching.

“I had no idea you liked my smell so much,” Horangi said, voice hushed.

The Korean man stepped closer, one leg pressing between both of Konig’s own until their hips were touching. Konig let in a quickened breath as he felt a shape pressing to his abdomen. Horangi had gotten excited.

“I . . . I didn’t either,” Konig mumbled, pressing the cloth harder to his face in an effort to hide his embarrassment. Feeling his rushing blood start to pump south. “It wasn’t until you left that I realised.”

Horangi let out a soft hum, tilting his head slightly as he watched Konig for a moment. Watching as he breathed into his shirt. A shirt he had been wearing all day and that he had dirtied with sweat.

“Well, next time, tell me. I’ll leave some clothes behind for you.”

Konig’s eyes brightened, the ice-cold blue eyes so pretty Horangi did not dare look away. “Y-You would do that? For me?”

“Of course,” Horangi said, not helping but smiling. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”

Konig’s heart ached as if it had grown with each affirmation Horangi gave him. At this point, he was worried it was going to burst out of his chest. The pain of it, to the joy of it, made his eyes sting again. Before he knew it, tears were dribbling down his cheeks.

“I-I-I thought . . . I thought you might . . . Might think it weird.” Konig mumbled with a trembling, weeping voice.

“Not at all!” Horangi immediately reassured. Reaching up and cupping Konig’s face between his hands, pulling him away from the shirt. Horangi felt adoration swell in his chest as he beheld him. Eyes glittering with glistening tears, lips trembling and cheeks blotching red. If it were not for the fact that Konig was in distress, he would consider making Konig cry more often. He looked so beautiful. So perfect.

Horangi pushed himself up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Konig’s lips, enjoying the sharp but snotty inhalation of breath through the other man’s nose. Konig’s free hand reached out to hold him close as he reciprocated, Horangi not minding when he tasted the salt of Konig’s tears between their lips.

In fact, it excited him. Aroused him, even.

Horangi pulled his lips away, licking his lips to savour the taste. Seeing the wet tracks down Konig’s cheeks he sprung into action. Kissing at each of Konig’s eyelids, happy to feel Konig almost melt a little in his hands. He then dashed his tongue out and licked the tear trails. Only a little disturbed when he felt himself harden at the tang of salt.

Pulling away, Horangi allowed Konig to bury his face once more into the shirt in his hand. His eyes still visible and wide as they looked at him.

“You know, I think it’s hot actually.”

“R-Really?”

Horangi nodded in affirmation his small smile only faltering for a moment before he said, “It also gives me an idea.”

. . .

Konig was still leaning against the set of drawers. His left hand shakily holding onto the edge of the furniture as his knees grew weaker by the moment, his right still forever holding Horangi’s donated shirt to his face. Gasping in air that smelled of him.

His eyes casted down to watch what was happening below.

Horangi was on his knees, hands on either of Konig’s hips and his mouth around Konig’s cock. Just as he had imagined it.

Konig whined as Horangi pulled his mouth off with a ‘pop’ and licked at the head, divoting into the slit. His eyes crinkled when he heard just how much Konig was enjoying himself.

He took Konig’s cock again into his mouth, nose flaring for breaths as he did. Struggling to accommodate but still making room as Konig went past his tongue and down his throat. Letting out a faint groan as he felt the shaft twitch, only making Horangi all the harder.

Horangi’s head began to move, his lips dragging up and down Konig’s shaft. Coating the shaft in his saliva as he did. Konig’s eyes closed in pleasure for a moment before opening again, Horangi feeling smug to know he wanted to watch.

His pace quickened as he grew used to Konig’s size down his throat, although his jaw did start to ache. But Horangi gladly ignored it, as it was worth it to see Konig creep closer and closer to orgasm.

Horangi could see it coming near. See it in how the great expanse of Konig’s chest rippled with shiver after shiver and breath after shaky breath. He could feel it on his tongue, the veins on the shaft twitching as it strained not to finish too soon. He could hear it in Konig’s noises, going from intermittent to often, not growing louder but rather shakier and higher in pitch.

“Sheisse,” Konig’s muffled voice swore. “I-I’m close, Horangi . . . I-I hah- I’m almost there.”

His head then rolled back, shirt still bunched to his mouth and nose. Coming to the precipice, just before it all came crashing down. His eyes squeezed shut, his shoulders hunching. Konig let out one rasping breath, his lungs gasping to hold one more breath before-

A hand squeezed at his balls and the base of his cock, the warmth and bliss of Horangi’s mouth gone.

“Wha-” Konig blustered as he looked down.

Horangi was still down on his knees, hands between Konig’s knees. He must have seen the anguish and confusion in Konig’s eyes as he smiled, that hungry glitter in his gaze.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Konig whimpered in distress, hips fidgeting in frustration. His body jittery with energy from being edged.

“Get on the bed for me,” Horangi requested, getting up to his feet. “And get undressed.”

Konig did not even stop to complain. Shuffling onto the bed and stripping, careful not to aggravate his painfully hard cock. Horangi was soon with him, the rest of his clothes already forgotten on the floor.

“Get comfortable,” Horangi said as he climbed up ontop of him, settling down down on his knees on either side of Konig’s legs. “I’m gonna ride you.”

Konig was happy to hear but still spoke, “B-But don’t you need to prep? We have not done it in so long.”

Horangi let out a huff of a laugh, “Oh please, what do you think I was getting up to on my mission? I had so much free time while I was away.”

Konig felt his aching cock twitch at the thought. Horangi missing Konig. Missing Konig being inside him. So much so he had fingered himself just to satiate the urge. Perhaps thinking of him as he did it, calling out his name even though he was not there to hear it. Konig would have to remember this conversation for later.

In the meanwhile, Horangi had poured lube onto Konig’s cock. The cool liquid a soothing balm for his aroused agitation but even more greatful when Horangi’s hand took him in a soft grip. Spreading the lube up and down, perhaps giving him a few more delicious strokes before leaving him again.

Horangi only looked back for a moment to ensure he was lined up right before facing to lock eyes with Konig. Bright, cold blue and dark, warm brown. The former looked balefully onwards, while the latter stared back ravenous. Both of them squeezing closed as Horangi took Konig’s generous size in one move. Konig whined as Horangi let out a grateful sigh as they settled. Their eyes opening once more and holding the others gaze.

Horangi lifted himself up again experimentally, Konig assisting by holding a hand at his hip to keep him steady. Mourning the loss of heat and tightness of Horangi’s insides for only a moment more before Horangi sat straight down again. Forcing a gasp out of Konig.

With that Horangi created an exquisite but agonizing rhythm, dragging Koing’s cock out deliberately slow before falling down in one snap. Skin slapping as Konig could only gasp. The hand on his hip weakly squeezing while the other kept Horangi’s shirt close.

Horangi’s cock bobbed unattended as he rode Konig. Ignored by Horangi, who knew full well he could finish with just Konig's cock alone, given time.

Konig was very clearly reaching his end again, his eyes only just managing to stay open as he struggled for air. Horangi was not going to allow this.

Ceasing his movements and sitting flatly on Konig’s cock, he ignored the mourning whimper from his lover to lean over the larger man. He placed one of his hands over the lower half of Konig’s face over the shirt. Stifling Konig’s already out-of-pace breaths. Konig did not object, his now unoccupied hand going to Horangi’s other hip. His eyes were pleasingly pitiful as he waited for Horangi to continue. And Horangi opted to not keep him waiting.

Changing plans, Horangi now ground down on Konig’s cock. Knees steady on the bed and hips rolling back and fro, bringing great pleasure to the both of them. Horangi groaning as Konig’s cock pushed against a spot he favoured inside.

This time, Horangi did not take his time. His hips grinding on Konig’s cock mercilessly, making the bed they lay on creak with each movement. All the while, Horangi’s hand held strongly at his face. Allowing air to still filter through the fabric but barely, smothering Konig with only Horangi’s scent surrounding him.

Konig felt pure pleasurable euphoria as his chest needed air enough to ache. The strain being so much that tears began to well up in his eyes.

Horangi smiled, almost smug if he were not so far gone himself.

“Fuck,” He gasped, eyes etching over what little of Konig’s face he could see. “God, you’re so beautiful when you cry.” Horangi bit his bottom lip, his own cock twitching in warning of his impending end. “You make the prettiest faces when you cry . . . Hah- It makes me want to make you cry ngh- more often.”

Konig only groaned, upper body stretching and arching. To Horangi’s sick joy, the tears fell and wet the shirt.

Konig was close again, so close. He wanted it to end but didn’t. The pleasure of Horangi riding him into oblivion and the pain to struggle for breath brought such elation. His mind near to thoughtlessness apart from the pure want for Horangi.

Horangi was a sight to behold, even in Konig’s exfixated state. Weak but visible smile, ears tinted pink and forehead wet with sweat.

“Cum for me, Konig.” Horangi rasped, riding Konig’s cock like his life depended on it. Like if he did not, it would all end. “Go on. Inside. I don’t mind.”

Konig whined and whimpered below, his head rolling from side to side but eyes never leaving Horangi’s. The shirt was moistened not just by tears but saliva, his mouth now open and begging for air.

“I want to feel it inside. Give it to me. Go on. Be good for me.”

It was not a moment after that Konig came. Muscles seizing and toes curling. His eyes rolling to the back of his head as orgasmic rapture overcame him, forcing more tears to fall from his eyes.

Horangi was so close that all he needed was to see Konig, pathetic and wretched as he is, cum. To feel Konig twitch inside him as he spilled his seed. Now only needing a few more rolls of his hips before he too came. His cock spurting cum out in rivulets onto Konig’s bare and pale stomach.

Horangi immediately removed both his hand and shirt away from Konig’s mouth, a small bit relieved to hear the Austrian gasp gratefully for air. After which both men stilled to breathe and to come down from the highest of cloud nines.

Konig was the first to move, hands on Horangi’s hips rubbing up and down his sides as he let out a content sigh. The other man lowering to kiss either of Konig’s cheeks before he took his lips. Neither moving for a while, just savouring the pleasantness of it all.

Pulling away, Horangi smiled weakly. “I need a shower and a good night's sleep.”

“You can use my bathroom.” Konig offered, voice hopeful. “And I can go get a change of sheets and you could spend the night . . . Maybe?” The last word attached on in a vestige effort to not force Horangi.

“I’m surprised you would even asked, isn’t it a given that I’d stay?”

“Well . . . I wanted to extend the invite regardless.”

Horangi actually chuckled at that, stealing one, then two, then several short loving pecks on the lips from Konig. God, how he loved him.

#horangi #konig #korangi #konig smut #konig call of duty #horangi call of duty #konig x horangi #horangi x konig #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #mw2 #fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #smut #yaoi

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nymphany · 9 months

Text

Thoughts for thoughts

♡Call of Duty thoughts♡

Masterlist

!!! Warnings !!!

Hybrid! Characters, dark characters, dark content, hybrids, bimbo reader, nsfw etc

MINORS DNI

♡ bull 141 + farmer price! X cow! Reader, they're always fighting over you and craving your milk it's too bad it's only for price

♡ Sheep dog soap x lamb reader he heards you into a corner all by yourself and knots you until you're completely full or until the farmer finds the both of you

♡ big bad wolf! Simon x lil red! lamb/doe/bunny reader!! Hes absolutely animalistic feral even

♡ gaz and his pretty milf neighbour

♡ Alejandro letting rudy share his wife!!!!!

♡ dog! Anyone humping your foot like the degenerate he is, or humping anything that fits between his thighs you can't leave him alone because he cant be trusted :(( he cums on everything and anything that smells like you. complete mess. God forbid you have any sex toys too because hes 100% cumming in them and scenting them

♡ dog! Ghost, soap, price x dog! Reader, ghost is big, a lil mean and scary, soap is too dramatic for your little brain and price always makes you feel dumber than you are (he doesnt mean too tho) you always stay away from them especially when they get back from a mission you just know they're filled with adrenaline and you wont be able to help yourself but you cant help but gravitate towards them when your heat starts, the problem is all of them want you to have their pups and you can barely walk or move once you heat dies down. They always tease eachother about when they get you, they play so dirty!! Sparring? Pinned down and humped, bending over? Humped, reaching for something? Humped. You really can't catch a break </3

♡ bear price x bunny reader <3 yummy yummy yummy so big and warm, so strong and smart he has to protect his dumb cocksleeve !! Let's you have all the blankets for your nests even some of his clothes <3 he always soothes you when you cry from how big he is and how he doesnt fit in the delicately crafted nest. but its okay because he doesnt mind being tightly pressed against you hes okay with the tiny nest and his tiny bunny.

♡ mean! Cat! Ghost x kitty reader, shes a high class purebred show cat with the cutest bells and bows and ghost is a scruffed up tom cat who loves to annoy her. Hes a degenerate too and is not above sniffing your panties while their still on you, he just loves her scent and want you to have his litter. He scents her all the time at this point people assume shes ghost when she comes near. He purrs so loud too when hes balls deep

♡ Or stag/ram! Soap who loves to scent his pretty deer/lamb shes so soft and pretty and he wants her so bad!! She smells so good and hes always pressing his nose into her neck. He definitely challenges everyone to train against him but only if you watch 👁👁 he needs ti prove he can provide strong babies (he fails a bunch because hes too busy looking at her)

♡ Need a bear! Konig + bunny reader, hes so big like gigantic, huge and he scares her! Shes a baker and bakes things for everyone and he is just head over heels in love with her but she thinks he wants to eat her but he just wants a cupcake. He leaves treats at her door, flowers and pretty rocks trying to court her. She thinks hes making fun of her </3 and gets all angry and stomps her feet at him but he just swoons even more. She finally starts coming around when the cold comes and she feels the need to snuggles up with this furnace of a giant. When her heat comes so does her oral fixation, she loves having any part of him in her mouth, she loves his scent, his taste all of it!! He doesnt fit into any nest she makes because hes built like a tank but that's okay his bed is big enough.

♡ Wolf! Ghost x little red riding hood! Reader, shes walking to prices house to give him some baked goods and meals she made him, hes been helping her with some repairs and just has to repay him but the big bad wolf doesnt like that the pretty girl with the pretty scent is hanging around price of all people so he fakes an injury while she walks past him and put lil doe eyed girl has to help an someone in need although she didnt know it would be this type of help. Price isnt pleased when stumbles across the scene of graves balls deep, knot forming and rounds and rounds of cum dripping from lil red. Shes on her knees cheek pressed against the floor and is too delirious to acknowledge price, ghost however is as smug as always knowing he got his favourite red hood

♡ Stag! Soap with his deer! Reader whose so shy and skittish from being surrounded by giant men, she clings on to him like a life line being the same species gives her something to relate too he must also intimidated by these absolute units. She cant be further from the truth, soap feels no fear infact he feels power he has the one thing the others dont and what they crave. Hes so mean about it to, hes so rough when fucking you just so they can hear and suffer, He brags about it in the morning to everyone embarrassing you as they all look at you with such hunger.

♡ Kitty! Reader x big cats! Rudy + alejandro + wolf! Graves. !!! Somnophilia !!! Kitty! Reader whose so pretty and perfect, covered in bows, bells and lace. Rudy and alejandro always compliment her praising her soft ears and tail, letting them feel for themselves. This makes graves very jealous and the only way he knows how to respond to this is being a menace. Kitty reader isnt too fond of graves, hes loud, gets too excited on missions and most importantly hes a whore, always flirting with her even though she tells him shes not interested and that hes smells weird. Alejandro and Rudy are practically like your body guards (graves assumes its because you're both from the same species family and have more to bond over he doesnt connect the dots that kitty may be too skittish from his enthusiasm) and follow you everywhere, always interested in what your doing until one day they arent with you and He catches you sleeping in the warmth of the sun, your cheek pressed into your arm and drool leaking from you mouth but most importantly your legs spread and panties on reveal. His instincts take over and he cant help himself but to press his nose into your cunt sniffing and licking all he can get. You wake up startled and try to bat him away but hes been craving this for months and cant stop even if he tried. Hes humping your foot desperate for your hole but too caught up in how you taste. Alejandro and rudy find you full of graves knot, mewling as he tries to bully himself deeper into you.

♡ valeria and her bunny who shes so mean to! She calls her dumb and when she tries to deny it she fucks her until she cant she see straight just to prove her point. She always dresses her in such pretty and skimpy stuff just to irritate everyone who sees her to add to the burn he let's her cockwarm him whenever she pleases infront of her men? Go ahead, infront of the 141? Absolutely, when shes talking over the comms directing her men? 100% shes so pookie bear

♡ If Alejandro and rudy owned hybrid girl graves would 100% steal it just like he stole their base

♡ mean! Wolf! Gaz and puppy reader? Hes so mean and smart and shes so slobbery and dumb. She so obedient and follows every command shes given 'oh you want me to bend over? okay :D' he lives for it at first he wasnt as bold in just straight up asking her to bend over and take his cock. Hed try to be sneaky at first asking her to reach for things, look under the cabinet for the pen he dropped, walking into he bathroom and 'looking' for something. He soon realise how stupid she is and too advantage of his discovery, any time he wants to plow his knot into a warm tight hole all he needs to do jt whistle and she come running on over clothes already gone

♡ Prison guard! Price who rewards his favourite prisoner

♡ Slasher! Soap + ghost who breaks into your house only to found you with your fingers in your cunt crying because you cant cum

♡ Dbf! Price/Graves whose driving you home after you called him only to pull over to the side of the road because you keep giving him back talk he practically throws you onto the hood of the care and fucks you as cars drive past some of them slowing down to get a better look. Hes so mean about it, spanking you until you bruise making sure you'll think about jom every time you sit down. Hes probably complaining about the way you dress and how guys will look at you like meat (as if he doesnt do the exact same thing)

♡ Dbf! Graves who meets you at the golf course while your dad is talking with his friends. You're so bored and have nothing to do but when graves offer to treat you to a ride around on his cart you have to agree (because theres literally nothing else to do) he drives you somewhere nice and quiet and fucks you stupid until you cry. You're so spoiled and he has to teach you a lesson

♡ Pastor price/graves who cant help but fall for you even tho he took a vow. You confess about all you dirty thoughts, all the dreams, how you hump your pillow to the thought of the pastor, how you choke yourself with your rosary and imagine his fingers in place in the confession boothe. It's the same place where you later suck him off and ride him

♡ stepdad! Price who fucks you in the kitchen letting the neighbours see who good he fucks you

♡ soap hiring a bikini car wash to clean his already perfect car, watching his neighbours come out a rake the invisible leaves, talk to him about football, some even bold enough to just watch you

♡ sharing a bed with gaz except you cant keep your hands to yourself and the rest if the team just have to listen to you moan as you cum

♡ cat! Gaz x spoiled kitty! Reader!! Price spoils you so much and you get so jealous when he adopts a new cat!!! You avoid gaz and he has enough so he bends you over and fucks you dumb when price nips out

♡ simon fucking you as you practice shooting "just testing how well you can focus now aim for the target and let me do my thing"

♡ mountain men/lumberjack! 141+konig.

Little silly thing who doesnt understand why these men are so big like huge giants, how did they get that big? What are they eating to get that big?

She probably lives in a cave filled with things shes stolen from abandoned campsites, blankets, clothes, lanterns, chairs, anything she can get her hands one. She has a nest of comfy soft things and a box (suitcase+ cooler) filled with pretty things like gems, rocks, shiny bottle caps, bits of sea glass etc

She probably sees one of them showering in the lake on a very hot day and doesnt understand why the thing in between their legs is so huge??? The male fairies arent like them at all. She thinks there is definitely something wrong with them and needs her help so she watches and stares until they notice her (which was terrifying because she just flutters around making little noise) when asked who she was she just whips out a pocket knife she finds and points it down and goes "Why does it look like that? I'll help" with this doe eyed expression as if she hadnt just suggestive the worst thing to happen to the poor man

Immediately he starts screaming because he most definitely doesnt want his dick cut off he runs away and nobody believes his story because fairies dont exist and they would never cut off their dicks. That is until their stuff starts disappearing, it's nothing meaningful tho. They took their shirt off because it's too hot? Boom gone, they left a torch on the ground for a couple of seconds? Gone, took off their gloves? Gone again. They think they're displacing them but when they wake up to various plant pots missing and the rocks from their garden they start setting up cameras to see who the culprit is. They vary throughout the forest going as deep as they can. Imagine their surprise when they catch our lil fairy on camera innocently taking the plants and rocks because she thinks they're pretty.

They manage to track her down although not to her cave, shes sat near a tree eating some berries seemingly undisturbed by the massive men infront of her who are so confused (one relieved that he wasnt hallucinating) shes so lonely tho. Almost all the fairies left this part of the forest when humans decided to camp so shes more than happy to show them her cave and treasures. Her english isnt good as humans and fairies do not speak the same although most of her language skills are picked up from her overhearing/stalking campers.

They obviously cant let her live like this so they bring her back with them taking all the things she "owns" with them because she made such a fuss about them. They keep her warm and fed helping her with human customs like showering (they're more than happy to help her), cooking and wearing regular clothes (fairies no not enjoy clothes!! Underwear and a big shirt/ dress only) the clothes part does not go over well and they now have a half naked women with they prettiest wings in their cabin. Shes so pretty and dumb and always brings them back things on her adventures (some of them arent useful but they enjoy them nonetheless)

♡ bear! konig, tiger! horangi and their doe! Reader!!!!

♡ mermaid! reader and semi dark! pirate! 141??? YES!! Sweet dumb thing who saves one of the crew (it's probably gaz hes always falling out of stuff) then starts leaving them gifts but she soon gets captured in one of their nets and they obviously have to keep her

♡ OR princess/wealthy! Reader x semi dark! Pirates! Cod!!! They keep her locked in a cellar returning her back to her father these pirates arent fair and are always trying to watch her when shes allowed to bathe, being on the sea with no women is hard she cant blame them

♡ siren! Cod x tropical mermaid reader!!! Shes so pretty and sparkley they just want to keep her in their nest forever!!!!

♡ OR siren! Cod x aquarium keeper! Reader!!! You worked as at the gift shop and stayed late to help the janitors, you were sweeping the floor of the brand new exhibit that apprently was a let down, the new siren was called konig and very rarely came out, he wasnt like soap (shark), ghost (orca), price (lemon shark), nikolai (idk), alejandro or rudy (idk), valeria (idk), horangi (idk), roach(idk) or graves (lil bitch idk) he was an giant octopus siren, he was never seen by the public and only comes out during feeding which is after hours. Youre cleaning away when you feel eyss on you and a large shadow falling over you. You turn around catching glimpse of the giant siren infront if you only a piece of glass protecting you, naturally you press your hand to the glass only to be snapped out of your daydream by someone yelling. Somehow over night you went from gift shop employer to siren whisperer. Multiple sirens lusting over you desperate to make them your mate (based on a sans undertale fanfic I read back in 2022 do not judge me I'll kill you(called tilikum(??)))

♡ lost island! Cod x reader, you wash up on shore after your cruise ship crashes, you seem to be the only one who survived as the wreckage of the ship in the distance seems to show no sign of life atleast that you can see although you doubt there is seeing half of it is sunk. Nevertheless who you explore this island encountering this savage mountain men who take you in and treat you almost like a puppy!!

♡ body guard! Cod x bimbo! Spoiled! Crybaby! Reader

♡ mafia! Cod x bimbo reader <3<3<3

♡ getting fucked when getting interrogated, you can only cum when you tell them the plans and they've got so many men and women who have such good self control, you wont be cumming for awhile.

♡ sex pollen

♡ that's it that's all you need to know

♡ I want a big beefy mountain scottish man in a mini micro kilt

#task force 141 #hybrid au #poly 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader

4K notes · View notes

wordstome · 5 months

Text

COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

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

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

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

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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