Obsessed

Konig has become shameless too, practically sobbing and begging you to give him another kiss, just a little one, he promises he won't try to touch your breasts either :(( Sometimes, though, his weakness overtakes him, which leads you to your current scenario...

You'd just gotten home, keys in the door, when you hear it. The slick sounds and pathetic whines, no doubt coming from Konig as he jerks off his fat, veiny cock. He's there on the couch, tears running down his face, contracting his abdomen to thrust his strong hips up into his tightly closed fist, fapping to some trashy porn featuring a girl that looks suspiciously like you...

You're a little disgusted, but also not very surprised that your weirdo roommate would do something like this. You startled poor Konig when you loudly cleared your throat, making him extra whiney and pathetic, spewing apology after apology, even as he continued to jerk himself off until he came so hard, he almost passed out :(( The thick seed spurting from his swollen tip, landing on his tummy while his thick cock continues to pulse, his heavy balls tightening up from how much sperm he was pumping out, but it was all wasted because it wasn't inside of your precious pussy :(

For the rest of the week, he mopes around behind you, looking like a pathetic, wet-eyed puppy. You'd slap his hand away every time he tried to reach for you, poor dick hard and leaky for you, but you just won't give him a chance!

Konig's even resorted to texting you weird things. You'll be in class when your phone pings, and there in your messages is a photo of his huge cock, thick, veiny, and drooling thick pearls of precum over his swollen knuckles and a dark, thick happytrail leading down to the base. Another text follows after that, 

bull hybrid könig was told more than once to not touch a single soul out in the farm, knowing that it'll probably end with needing to tug him away by horns from some other hybrid he'll try to pump full of seed that sits heavy in his balls and making him ache, that was how bulls are, but the farmhand didn't knew the real extent of his true intentions, that his baby blue's weren't even tracking the cow hybrid ladies wandering around the sunny field.

no, könig was more curious in you, a sweet thing that was helping around the area, feeding the hybrids, making sure they were comfortable and clean, that they had everything they needed, stealing quiet moments beneath the tree's shadow when you had a couple hours to yourself, enjoying the light breeze or some book, well, until he started to join you, quite persistent, long tail swishing behind his bulky body, looming over you with sparkling eyes and twitching fluffy ears, tilting his masked head aside with an almost innocent plea — “can i join you, kleine?”

and there's no reason to refuse, really, even if he get's a little bit too needy by sitting close to you, burly body nudging against your smaller frame, wriggling, until he'd look at you with sweetly fluttering eyes and gaze down at your lap, a silent question, a subtle tug of his thick, calloused fingers against the sleeve of your shirt, so you sigh and nod, letting him lay his head down on your thighs, gazing up at you beneath the swoop of eyelashes, listening how you read out loud, as he nuzzles his masked face against your stomach, breath tingling, and you miss out how he crumples the fabric up his scarred features, leaving it stuck against the sharp horns.

it's only a coincidence that he'd have your thighs thrown over the broad stretch of his shoulders, dangling quivering and useless as he get's himself a small treat of your soppy cunt against his warm mouth, eager as he nudges deeper, nose pressing against the swollen bud of your clit, making your body twitch, squirming on the grass as he holds you pinned there, broad palms encompassing supple curves of your body, holding with a force that makes sinews move beneath skin, as he bobs his head, tongue lavishing at your slick dripping hole.

dragging him off you would be harder than any other bull, because he won't still the bruising pistoning of his hips until you'll gush around his fat cock, ushering him to spill his creamy, thick seed against the entrance of your sweet womb, trembling as your cunt holds him in a tight clamp, gummy walls spasming and milking the engorged girth until könig's heavy balls are empty, resting against the swell of your ass as his seed frothes out of your pussy and around his cock, still nestled deep inside as to keep you plugged, heaving and dazed as you look in his slyly squinted eyes.

(When you collapse at work and are rushed to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy, you think perhaps you should have been more concerned).

Coming out of anestesia to find a teary eyed, guilty König at your bedside, gripping your hand softly, you smack his shoulder hard enough to make him wince before starting to yell, still loopy enough that you sound far too funny to be at all intimidating.

Loser König who is shamefully obsessed with you. He wants to talk to you, he really does, but he's awkward, too big for his skin. Whenever you're around, his tongue is heavy and thick inside his mouth. Language gets jumbled, his shoulders hunch in, and he worries. God, how he worries. He's pent up enough the merest brush of your pinky against his sends him into a spiral, giddy images of you below him, sweaty and moaning his name, dancing in his mind's eye.

When he finally works up the nerve to introduce himself, you shake his hand, perfect lips forming the syllables of his name. He knows he's done for. The sound of his name in your mouth was so sweet it had him cumming in his pants like some pathetic teenager. He feels pathetic when he has to angle his hips away from you so you don't notice the slightly darker patch of fabric over his crotch.

Loser König who gets off on the embarrassment of it all. He can't help his body's reaction to you, the dizzing rush of blood to his cock when you walk past, hips swaying and drawing his eyes down to your perfect ass. Your scent trails behing you, swirling in your wake. He wonders what kind of perfume you like, what would smell best mixed with the smell of his cum on your skin. He buys different perfumes to try, mixing drops of his favorites with the lotion he uses to jack off. It helps him pretend you're the one touching him. When he's finished and is laying on his back staring at the celing, shame floods in, the cycle restarts, and he's thinking about you again.

Loser König who learns to edge himself. Rather than allowing himself the satisfaction of an easy orgasm, he slips on a silicone cock ring, the black of the ring stark against the blue-white of his thighs. He has one photo of you, a blurry thing he snapped surreptitiously across a crowded bar. You weren't looking at the camera, face half turned away as you laughed at something or someone next to you. You hadn’t even known he was there, but he'd seen you. He always notices you.

He groans, left forefinger brushing across the pixels that mark your lips. It's a tender gesture completely at odds with the vicious way König tugs at his cock, fighting off his impending orgasm. He needs to learn to last, has to figure out how to make it, make him, worth your while. If you ever let him find his way between your legs, he wants to make sure he can last. He knows he won't, but he'd like to try.

ASDKJFK (i did not proofread this, not like i ever do but, anyways)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

🝮 Price likes to surprise you by grabbing your wrist as you walk by his spot on the couch, pull you onto his lap and hold you whilst he nuzzles into your neck. It makes you squirm and laugh as you feel patches of his beard tickle your skin. Your moving around only causes him to grip your hand tighter, your laughter contagious as he smiles warmly at you, withholding his own laughter. He rarely does anything else though.

🝮 Ghost is really careful and hesitant at first, what if you're not okay with it? But when you start showing him how to show physical affection, he becomes more comfortable doing it. There won't be any indicators on his part when he's about to do it, he'll still for a moment, his fists tightening and then grabbing you suddenly, harshly almost. You feel him relax against you once he has his big, bulky, strong arms around you tight. He just really likes snatching you out of nowhere, holding you super tight against him until he lets a soft breath out. Kind of like holding a kitten close to you; it's relaxing once you feel its soft fur and forget about your problems for the day.

🝮 Soap aggressively sniffs you. Like, randomly coming up to you when you're doing mundane things such as reading, washing the dishes or just in bed scrolling on your phone. He won't just sniff in one place, no, he'll do it all over; your neck, shoulders, arms, chest, anywhere. And it makes you really confused as to why he does it when you haven't put on perfume yet so there must not be any scent to smell, right? No, somehow he can smell your "natural" scent. Whatever that means.

🝮 Gaz will run at you, tackle you, and try to hold you down while he attacks you with kisses. Quick smooches all over your face, neck, collarbone and keeps going lower and lower until you have to stop him before you turn into a puddle on the spot. Gosh, sometimes that man is too much, you swear he'll be the death of you someday. Even in a short amount of time, he can get in plenty of kisses. Ofc, you do it back at him when you catch him off guard, and it has sort of turned into a game you both play at home.

🝮 Roach will become clingy, so so clingy, so much so that he wraps all four of his limps around yours, tight like an octopus and won't let go. He's grinding his teeth because he wishes to do more but is holding back. Little noises can be heard from him as he itches to apply more pressure until he can merge into you, wishing to be closer, as if it were possible. He can't find what to do and you're just there, unable to get up from the couch. You wish to get up, to make it to the bed to sleep but he just won't let you get up. Trying to muster all your strength, you attempt to push his body off of yours but it's impossible. You sigh in defeat at having to sleep on the couch because who knows what got into your boyfriend, but you're kinda enjoying it.

🝮 Alejandro leaves bite marks. Everywhere. Will be eating next to you in the kitchen, you reach over for the salt or a napkin and next thing you know this man goes in for a bite because your arm was right there, in front of him. At this point, you're so unfazed that it barely registers anymore, it doesn't hurt because he doesn't bite down hard, he makes sure to never actually hurts you. The bite marks are barely there, unless you're going out right away you have no reason to worry over covering them. Sometimes you'll forget you even have a bite mark and someone will go "Violent toddler?" "No, loving husband".

🝮 Rudy tends to avoid trying to act upon impulsive, violet urges when his senses are overwhelmed. Will silently suffer because he doesn't want you complaining that he messed up your hair or makeup when he just wants to press kisses all over your face or bite you. So he does it but gently? Like he goes in for it but last minute he softens and you feel a set of teeth slowly sinking into your shoulder and you attempt to turn only to see Rodolfo and his soft eyes meetings yours, bashfully as if regretting it. Your reaction is worth it though, you simply laugh and tell him you don't mind since you do it all the time to him.

🝮 Phillip gets cuteness aggression even if you're not there. Weird, huh? He looks back on pictures of you on his phone, pictures that are horrid to you but endearing to him. Then he'll want to hold you so he's off to search for you, tracks you down within a minute and will pull you away from whatever you are doing to wrap his arms tightly around you and swing you around without a single word beforehand, might not even have greeted you if he had just returned home. Then, he'll set you down and lower his face to your height so you may kiss him, but if you hesitant for more than a second he'll sigh and instead kiss you all over.

🝮 Makarov gets the urge to bother you when you're mad because according to him "you look cute when you're mad". You may think he's belittling you, but he only does it if what you're upset over is considered "silly" by him. If you're seriously mad at him he will do anything to please you, seriously. But when it's over small things, he thinks it's the best time to be all up on you, not leaving you alone despite you being peeved and trying to push him away. Will poke your cheeks when they're puffed from you huffing in annoyance until he can't hold back from grabbing your face to forcefully meet his eyes. Will smush your face until you're making a pufferfish face.

🝮 Keegan will randomly just come at you, like just staring at you quiet when you're like "??" and in a swift manner will get up. It scares the living daylights out of you how fast he moves but you barely have time to react before he's bringing you down with him, tackling you onto the floor so you can't swat at him while he pinches your cheeks until they turn red. You whine and swat at him because it hurts but he just laughs meanly leaving a little kiss on top of your nose and walking away. You hate that you love that bastard.

🝮 König is the one who you dote on with climbing him and pressing a crap ton of kisses on his cheeks because you can't control yourself, but he's the tall one, he should be the one having a hard time not using his strength to pick you up and just press his face against your neck. One thing about König is that he goes absolutely feral when he can smell your scent very strongly. No, not when you're wearing perfume, he thinks the fabricated smell messes with your natural scent, he likes how you smell right when you wake up. The scent that lingers makes him want to bury his nose into your shirt or hair and smell that comforting scent.

🝮 Horangi will bite. That's what he's always so tempted to do. Will gently pinch your cheeks like two marshmallows, you laugh softly and he smiles at how cute you look, until he leans in and bites your cheek. Doesn't bite hard, just softly, enough to leave a little mark on your cheeks that goes away after a while. As for biting in other places... let's just say he's not so gentle there. Uses his height and strength to his advantage, can get pretty rough when "attacking" you, but that's just because he's overwhelmed and can barely handle it.

König gets you pregnant. It's an accident after one too many drinks and a cocky comment from the Austrian that leads into some "hate" sex.

When you first find out about the pregnancy, you go to your higher ups and you get moved from field duty to office work...In Germany.

You're glad for the location change, as König had always pissed you off, especially now that you're pregnant. (You keep the baby for plot reasons idk) You don't tell him. Instead, he comes to work one day to find you and all traces of you gone from the base. He had brought flowers, intending to ask you out.

Turns out, the whole 'enemies' thing was one sided. Kömig had thought he was flirting. But anyway.

You move to Germany and begin renting a nice little place from a kind older woman. Her accent is a little different than the other people you meet in the country but you think nothing of it. She mentions she has a son in the military that she wants you to meet when he gets back.

So, one day, a very pregnant reader stumbles into their kind old land ladies house to find said old lady cooing over König.

She starts trying to set the two of you up because she thinks you'll be cute and her son is a good man and will be a good father.

König's heartbroken, figuring you had taken a lover and his feelings would never be returned but also being a little hopeful because of the dates he mom keeps setting up.

Larger than life, the sheer size of him only more exaggerated by the fact you've always been on the short size. You hear almost everyday how difficult it will be, your supposedly giant baby. Honestly, you're worried too, though you suspect konig is the most stressed.

"I broke the record in my hospital, schatzi. Fifteen pounds. Schatzi, Do you hear me." Which. As one would predict, only served to make you more nervous.

Then the day comes and....they're...small.

Tiny, little babies. Twins, how the hell it was missed it beyond you. Your husband is well over six feet, weighs a solid three hundred and some pounds, and his two new babies can easily be held in one hand each.

As the shock of everything settles in, you both learn that your babies will absolutely scream and wail if konig attempts to hold them normally, only settling properly when curled up in his hands. He's practically crying all the time from how fragile they are compared to him.

Seeing the tiny pairs of socks he sews for them has you crying, too. He loves them so so much.

Your favorite memory is watching the little ones, now a bit older but still so small, snuggling together on konigs back while he naps, enough space they can't easily roll off.

—price when you banish him to the couch, he could be one of two ways—mature and forces you to talk it out nicely or toxic, flat out refuses, and fucks you back to your senses. the first way, when the words spill from your mouth, his shoulders slumped with dejection as he steps from the room. no point in arguing when you're worked up. after stewing in your anger for thirty or so minutes, he returns—armed with food—and talks it out with you. the other way, he flat out refuses to sleep on the couch. i could see him manipulating you with the "I paid for that bed, and I'll sleep in it." you're stubborn, muttering something about you sleeping on the couch then, which is how you end up getting your brains fucked out.

—soap I imagine soap just pushed your buttons way too much that day. you know how he is sometimes—over the top, hyper, and an all-around instigator. he was looking for a reaction, and he found it—just not the one he wanted. immediately pouts, acting like a dejected child before he goes on to try and convince you to change your mind. real annoying about it too, doesn't give up until you're at your breaking point.

—kyle the only one that I see actually accept his banishment with stride. he knows he made you upset, respects the boundary you placed with him and doesn't take it to heart. there's also a big possibility that, by the end of the night, you end up talking it out anyways like mature adults. he knows you needed to get it out of your system, and you serving punishment to him did just that.

—simon the second the words leave your mouth, he shuts down. you see the moment he deflates, doesn't try to reconcile, and just accepts it. he doesn't want to upset you further or make you more mad than you already are. simon doesn't respond well to domestic conflict. the second his back hits the cushions? he's tossing and turning. he barely fits the couch to begin with, and you both learn you need each other to sleep—bonded like a pair of cats.

It all started one night after Simon got home from the bar. The only thing he wanted was to be surrounded by you. So he took u right there on the kitchen counter. And it was particularly rough. back arching, voice high, and nails deep into the soft flesh of his back. The pain of the bright red welts forming in his skin only diving him harder into u. And that night after a long evening in a sweaty dance of love, he look in the mirror to find scratches splayed across his pale back.

After that he was more aware of the pain u inflicted on him. Your playful hits that didn’t hurt, or the random times you’d bite him. And he liked it. Every time he’d feel his cock slightly firm in his pants.

After weeks of denial he finally confessed. It was early in the morning, right after your shower and his run as you both were sipping coffee in the tiny kitchen that he blurted out “I like when you hurt me.”

It took u by surprise, almost choking on your coffee as he said it.

“I like when u run your fingers down my back till I bleed, and I like when you bite me, and when you hit me, in that playful way. It, it just makes me wanna fuck you so hard. Till you’re screaming and I’m bleeding from your nails scraping my back.”

You look up at him with surprise. “You have a pain kink?”

“Yea, yea I think so.”

the jacob wysocki tulpa manifesting inside my brain:

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Price had been hearing it for weeks.

“Old dog’s can’t learn new tricks, price” Soap would grin across the table. Ghost’s low chuckle followed like smoke. “Bet the missus is bored stiff, Captain.”

Price never rose to the clear ragebait in front of the boys, but the words..stuck. You were younger, gorgeous, and God— always eager for him… yet a small, ugly part of him wondered if they were right. He’d never exactly been the adventurous type in bed—solid, thorough, but not… inventive.

So he cornered Gaz one night after drills.

“Need a favor, Sergeant.”

Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

Price rubbed the back of his neck, face already red with what he could only pin as embarrassment. “You’re good with the ladies. I want lessons. Real ones.”

Gaz blinked, then a slow, wicked grin spread. “You want a demonstration, Captain?”

Price’s jaw flexed. “Please..”

The sleeve. (18+ MDNI)

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You’d been with the 141 long enough that the team felt like home—Price’s cigars, Soap’s endless jokes, Gaz’s easy laugh, and Ghost… well, Ghost was Ghost. Silent, broad-shouldered, always layered in black long sleeves and that damn mask. You’d never seen an inch of skin. Not once.

Well, until today.

You’d caught him in the gym, sleeves pushed up while he wiped down equipment. And oh God—Ink. A full sleeve on his left arm—dark, intricate, covered from wrist to bicep—maybe even higher— in sharp lines and shadows. Skulls, barbed wire, something that looked like a grim reaper. It suited him perfectly, and the sight hit you low in the gut.

You couldn’t stop staring. When he noticed, he tilted his head, that masked stare pinning you.

“Something wrong, love?”

You swallowed. “Your arm. I didn’t know you had any tattoos. They’re… really fucking cool.”

Ghost paused. “You want a closer look?” His voice dropped, low and rough, a warning but.. you didn’t catch it. “Might not be able to unsee it.”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I want to see.”

You not catching that warning was more blessing than curse— now you’re in his quarters, door locked, the only light a sad lamp casting shadows across the room. Your back is pressed to his chest, legs spread over his thighs as he fucks up into you from behind—slow, deep, relentless. The thick, tattooed arm hooked around you, and he’s got three fingers shoved deep in your mouth, stretching your lips, pressing down on your tongue, keeping you quiet.

You can see every inch of the ink.

The sleeve is even more detailed up close—black and gray, textured, the designs shifting with every flex of his forearm as he works his fingers in and out of your mouth in time with his cock. Saliva slicks his fingers, dripping down your chin, but you don’t care. You moan around them, eyes locked on the tattoos, on the way his muscles move, on how hot the contrast is between the deadly ink and the way he’s using that hand to keep you quiet and full.

“Fuckin’ asked if you were sure..” he growls against your ear, accent thick, breath hot through the mask he won’t remove. “Now look at you. Mouth stuffed with my fingers, cunt clenching every time you see somethin’ new. Dirty girl.”

He thrusts harder, hips snapping up, the wet sounds were obscene. His tattooed arm stays exactly where you can see it—fingers hooked in your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip as he makes you take them deeper. You gag softly and he chuckles, low and dark, never slowing.

“That’s it. Keep your eyes on it while I ruin you.”

Your hands grip his forearm, fingers tracing the lines of the tattoos as your orgasm builds fast and sharp. Ghost doesn’t let up—he fucks you through it, fingers muffling your cries, the full sleeve on display just for you like he promised.

When he finally pulls his fingers free, strings of spit connecting them to your lips, he drags the wet digits down your throat, over your chest, and presses the tattooed palm flat against your stomach so you can feel every inch of him still buried inside.

“Next time..” he murmurs, voice wrecked, “you’ll trace every line while I’m balls deep. Yeah?”

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