Summary : M!reader and Nikolai are captives of the Ultranationalists.
Pairings : Nikolai Belinski x M!reader
Rated : E
Word Count : 1.5k
Warnings : SMUT, DUB-CON, NO USE OF Y/N, porn w/o plot, frottage, military-typical violence, reader dons a chosen call-sign, 'Anvil'
COD Masterlist / Masterlist
A/N : This is one of my first attempts at a male reader's POV in an insert prose, written in haste during my most recent MW1 playthrough. Please let me know how I did !! Crossposted on ao3
The pay grade was too good to be true, that much was certain, now.
For all the ache that was active duty, it kept his folks at home fat and happy. Now, granted, perhaps now was a risky time to be an able-bodied enlisted lad.
The pay jump from being an aerial repairman to a mounted gunner for transports was stupid, and hard to turn down. There had been a certain stir within him, a restless, gluttonous urge to get moving, again; As always, he fed it.
Now, he was in Russia.
Now, he'd pay the penance.
The other day, he'd been ordered to extract a crucial package with urgency, and just yesterday, at least two teeth must've been knocked out of his head during the ambush on their transport.
Anvil didn't understand a word of Russian, and most -- if not all -- of his teammates had been slain on the road or maimed during interrogation. At the very least, he wasn't alone.
The 'package' in question.
A Russian spy for the S.A.S., known by alias as 'Nikolai.'
They'd attempted to pry himself open a couple times, but Anvil refused to crack out of his own interest to stay alive -- if not for his former training keeping his will ironclad.
The heavy gunner's preceding thoughts were sliced by the light of the hallway cutting into the dark room, spilling across the floor. Some guttural protests tumbled past the door as two of Zakhaev's men crossed the threshold, finding the aforementioned spy doubled-over in their grip. Some curses were spat in Russian, some of which Anvil recognized -- "Mongrel," and "bastard," to name a couple -- before Nikolai was shoved into the corner of the room to stumble on buckled knees into Anvil, sat against the wall.
He grunted as his duct-taped wrists uncomfortably squished between his large frame and the wall, but managed to absorb most of Nikolai's weight upon impact. The spy writhed in Anvil's lap with a curse, struggling to get up -- he cursed himself as a grunt crawled from the base of his throat, managing to bite it down long enough to aid Nikolai in sitting upright without the use of his hands.
Once the door shut, Nikolai spat a series of furious Russian curses towards its rotting face, his face flushed with a sheen of sweat, a vein popping out from his neck over the collar of his gray crew-neck as he shouted in a tone that felt raw from protesting his interrogators.
Fuck him, this dry spell was something...
The spy turned toward Anvil, his ire shifting as he saw him there. Nikolai spoke quickly in Russian, clearly prompting him.
"What?" Anvil croaked, blinking like a fool.
Nikolai huffed, "I said, 'what did they ask you?'."
Anvil blinked once more, flexing his bound hands at the small of his back as Nikolai's gaze flickered over his profile in the dark. " 'Asked me about you."
"Yes, and?"
The former repairman shrugged minutely, swallowing hard as he pried his gaze away from the bead of sweat trickling down Nik's stubble; "I know nothing, lad."
There was a subtle shift in Nik's expression that Anvil may have missed had he not been practically mapping out this unfortunate informant down to his bloody genotype.
Something inscrutable.
A silence stretched on between them, settling over the room in a thick discomfort as Anvil tried to subtly fix the growing firmness within his cammies. The quiet became suffocating, roaring in his ears, when Nikolai's head angled back towards him, it took every remaining modicum of his restraint to resist meeting his gaze.
This was precisely the reason he was kept from fieldwork to begin with.
"You stiff, right now?"
Anvil gulped hard, feeling his Adam's apple bob within his throat as a shaky breath of denial slipped past his lips, "No..."
While avoiding the informant's gaze, Anvil could hear him chuff with an unreadable sort of amusement, feeling his face scathe as Nikolai muttered under his breath in Russian. Once Anvil opened his mouth to half-heartedly apologize, however, Nikolai spoke;
"Are your hands free?"
Anvil paused, the hot flush in his face draining with a chill. What the hell did that mean?
"N-no, why?"
He couldn't help but ask, this time, unsure as to where the lad was going with his line of questioning. Anvil dared a glance at Nikolai, and swore his heart could've dropped to his ass.
Steely-colored eyes weren't just looking at him anymore, ogling now, with flared pupils and a bitten bottom lip.
What in the green hell...
Anvil wasn't sure what Nikolai had uttered in Russian, but before another one of his incessant questions could rile the skittish spy, he was pouncing. Nik wasn't a small man by any means -- broad, at least six-feet-tall with a stocky build -- but Anvil would've thought so, based on how the man swung a leg over Anvil's thighs to straddle him where he sat.
What the fuck~~
There was hardly a chance to voice any protests or ask for reassurance before the enigmatic informant sealed his mouth over Anvil's.
It was as if he'd been baptized in boiling oils as Nikolai kissed him, warm breath sighed into the Russian's growing stubble, wavering when their teeth clicked together. It was nothing romantic, their desperation was apparent as their kiss quickly evolved into teeth and tongue.
Nik's tongue would pass the roof of Anvil's mouth as he beared down over the stiff bulge in his jeans, swallowing any moans that may pass. Anvil's head spun on its axis, battling Nikolai's tongue for a modicum of dominance in their dubious situation. Everything else was secondary.
Zakhaev's men were just outside this door -- rotting and without a doorknob -- a goddamn sneeze could have those bastards barreling in here. It hardly mattered to him now, blood roaring on his ears, cock throbbing against the zipper of his cammies as he squirmed to meet Nik's hips.
Nik's mouth traveled down Anvil's chin, up his jaw to the patch beside his ear, mouthing hot kisses down to the crook of his shoulder and nip a mark there -- hidden just-barely beneath the collar. With his jaw set, on the edge of letting his restraint snap, Anvil opened his unoccupied mouth to protest -- giving Nik another opportunity.
Anvil couldn't find it within himself to protest anymore as Nikolai lapped into his mouth again, greedily mapping every tooth, suckling the tip of his tongue before withdrawing. He'd incinerate this entire field without concern for his brethren if it meant kissing this bastard again for another heartbeat --
Like a prayer being answered, Nikolai cocked his head back, scooting back on Anvil's lap and bringing his hips along, trapped between his strong thighs. He swore to God he would've passed away, there and then, and would've gone with glee.
"Work with me, for Christ's sake," Nikolai hissed, leaning back in Anvil's lap -- he understood it now. Anvil followed in suit as he leaned back with a groan that Nikolai echoed in a rough baritone, hissing a breath inward every so often as Nik bucked to meet his thrusts.
Anvil couldn't tear his eyes from the tent in Nik's jeans, writhing with mounting desperation as the Russian found a rhythm, churning the bulges of their cocks into each other, seeking the dry friction that made them jump behind the contrasting fabric of their trousers. He couldn't speak for Nik, but Anvil had been halfway there since the brutish bastard was thrown into his lap, feeling his pleasure mount with the stiffening discomfort in his jeans.
He'd give absolutely anything to pull his cock out, to fuck his fist until he painted the front of Nik's shirt -- or, Goddamn, if Nik would let him, run his cockhead over Nik's sweltering tongue.
"G-Guh~~ fuuuck..." Anvil growled, setting his jaw to keep his noise to a minimum as his cock jumped against Nikolai's, feeling the Russian's jerk in response. "Fuck, you're so..." he wasn't able to deliver a full sentence, but he was blessed to know that Nik understood.
Quite well, he was afraid.
A guttural moan strangled Anvil at the base of his throat as Nik threw his hips into a doubled rhythm, bucking to meet his hasty partner's thrusts as their cocks notched together through the fabric --
A few silky words in Nikolai's mother-tongue, and Anvil was folding like scaffolding made of fucking toothpicks.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Nik --" Anvil hissed under his breath, gasping for air like he was held underwater as he exploded in his cammies, mutedly moaning and twitching as Nikolai persisted, riding him until Anvil was jerking from overstimulation, boot-heels scuffing the dirty floor.
Anvil's eyes shot open as he raggedly gasped for air, meeting Nikolai with a panicked plea as his stimulation bordered on white-hot pain; Satisfied with the image of the burly gunner, teary-eyed and desperate below, Nikolai let himself go with a broken groan, shuddering in Anvil's lap as the front of his jeans bloomed with a damp spot over his crotch, warm and welcome against Anvil's own.
Once the euphoria wore off with a slow fizz, and their heads stopped spinning long enough to let the roar of blood evaporate from their ears, Anvil and Nik could hear the distinct echoing-pop of gunfire. With an airy huff of laughter, Nikolai pressed a deep kiss to Anvil's chapped lips that kept his face tingling afterwards.
The informant practically chirped, "Glad the boys weren't punctual for once."
Footnotes : THANKS FOR READING !! I will be participating in Kinktober this year to exercise the smut muscles in my brain, feedback on my MLM prose would be phenomenal âĄâĄ
Okay I kinda assumed that they might try to turn Charlie Kirk into a martyr but seriously what the fuck
Here's a list of real things that have happened in the past 2 days:
He's being awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom
JD Vance personally escorted his body back to Arizona in Air Force Two
All American flags both in the US and abroad are to be flown at half-mast for the rest of the week
Republican senators are calling for a statue of him to be built in the Capitol (quote: "we have one of MLK don't we?")
News anchors are sobbing live on television
The governor of Utah has pledged to give the shooter the death penalty
Vigils are being held nationwide
Evangelicals have been equating him with Jesus
In the House of Representatives a request for a prayer devolved into screaming that the Democrats killed him
The New York Yankees held a moment of silence before the game and proceeded to lose 12-2
People across the country are losing their jobs en masse for criticising him online
MSNBC's political analyst was asked what created the environment for the shooting, said it could be his divisive rhetoric, and was fired on the spot
A UK student wrote "he got shot lol" in a private group chat and it made the news
The State Department announced that they will revoke the visas of foreign nationals who "praise, rationalise, or make light" of his death on social media
accidental pregnancy - mean!simon âghost rileyâ. part 1 and part 2 are already up! warning; dubcon! breeding kink !
mean!simon who, after finally meeting his son, simply canât stay away from you or what you offer him.
even when youâre still healing, he comes over almost every nightâ not to fawn over his new son, but to get rid of that pressure in his loins. it doesnât matter if your son is asleep or awake, he comes knocking on the door as soon as work ends.
he drags you into the room, kissing at you roughly with one hand on your neck. your son asleep in the crib in the next room, completely obviously to the way his father threw you down to the bed- despite your protests. âsi, heâs asleepââ
âshh, sweet girlâ he coaxed, standing over you as he undid his belt, throwing it on the bed next to you, âjust be good, ok? all yaâ gotta do it sit there and take itâ
the way he spoke to you made your brain melt, legs clasping together as wetness built between them. simon noticed this, slipping his hand between your legs to palm your pussy, middle finger playing with your clit. ânice and wet now arenât we? knew you loved meâ he laughed, bringing his fingers to your clothed hole- poking at it roughly through your panties.
he brought his hand up to his face and inhaled, pressing his hard cock to your ass. you struggled not to grind back, but youâd missed him, and any type of attention from simon was good attention. you bounced your ass back against him, not thinking of the possible consequences of showing simon that you wanted him.
simon knew he couldnât be like most men, so he never tried to in the first place. he couldnât love you, he couldnât love his sonâ no matter how hard he tried. and he tried, truly tried. he would never marry you, he couldnât even bring himself to kiss youâ not even when he has a piece of his soul inside yours. he couldnât love you, at least not in the way you needed him to.
it made you cling onto him a little tighter while he slid in slowly, trying not to move the bed too much. he made it his goal to keep quiet, and you, by shoving his hand over your mouth. he looked back at the little baby monitor to make sure, hearing nothing but absolute silence. taking that as the go-ahead to slowly push into you, pussy spreading around his cock like you were meant to take only him, toes curling when you felt the tip meet your cervix.
simon fully bottomed out, balls pressing to your ass. forehead just inches from yours, lips pressed in a tight line as he settled deep inside youâ forcing your body to make room once again.
and the dirty things he would say⊠whispering into your ear things like; âyaâ gonâ give me another baby? gonna let me fuck another into you?â âhow many boys you think you can pop out? always imagined having a fewâ âlooked so fuckinâ good pregnant with my kid⊠maybe this time youâll give me a little pussy while your nice and round?â
heâs just so awful.
lowkey just wanted to finish this and get it out there. not my best work ik, but i have OTHERRR drafts to work on.
fam your like my fave dead dove writer but GAH DANG let simon like chill out on reader and give her the love she deserves
awe chyuaru !! ilysm. have a soft simon, just for u
recently Iâve actually been thinking of soft!simon and virgin!reader, just because he would be so soft, despite the fact he didnât exactly like very⊠intimate sex. he wasnât one to hold someone, kiss them and tell them he loved them. he just couldnât do it.
youâd been seeing each other for a while now, so it was bound to come up. simon just didnât expect himself to feel so protective over you when you told him. he was rough, definitely not the type of man for a first time. but you wanted him, and simon couldnât deny you.
he felt so shaky, like a huge fucking giant when he was over you, like heâd break you just by laying a hand on you. your body was so tight around his finger, practically fighting him every inch.
he watched you throw your head back in discomfort, eyebrows coming togetherâ the word âstopâ already forming on your lips. simon stilled his hand, the other rubbing small circles on your abdomen,
âits okay my sweet girl, deep breaths for me, yeah?â âyouâre gonna be okay, love, i know what iâm doingâ. his warm hand was a huge comfort to your shaking body, tethering you to the real world and not your anxieties.
âdoinâ so food for meâ he drew his fingers out, watching the way your thighs twitched, body trying to run away from him
âdoesnât feel right, siâŠâ you whined, hands curling into the sheets, âfeels weird..â
âsâgonna feel weird for the first time, youâre a tight girlâŠâ he gently fucked you open with his finger, being careful to not move too quickly, making sure he didnât jab at your velvety walls.
âsi!â you gasped out, head turning to hide your face into the pillow.
âi know my girl, i know, promise iâm being as gentle as i can beâ oh and does simon love talking you through it, loves the way you tense up and then melt back into his touch. âsâgonna feel so good soon, just let me..â
simon leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your clit, slowly massaging your insides with his calloused finger, using every ounce of his self control. it was just as hard on him as it was you, sweetheart. his eyes couldnât rip themselves away from your pussy, not when your folds were so stretched out on one finger, fighting him every time he tried to go past his knuckle.
âjust have to work you open, train you to take this cock⊠then youâll be able to take anytime i need you taâ
but it still didnât feel right. you told simon to stop, and he did, probably before you could even get it out of your mouth. he pulled himself out of you slowly, leaving you empty and emotional. you felt embarrassed, and like you ruined simonâs time, wasted it even. left him hard and disappointed. but truly, thats not how he saw it.
âoh my lovely girl..â he cooed, crawling up from between your legs to hold your face in his hands, thumbs wiping at the tears that began to fall down your cheeks, âno cryinâ alright? nothing to be so upset overâ âwhyâs my girl so sad? please, tell meâ
simon was genuinely worried. he did everything right, and you did nothing wrongâ seeing you randomly start to cry began his distress. he hated seeing you cry in general, but feeling like it was his fault was even worse. he felt guilty and he didnât know why.
you tried to explain in clear words, trying to voice out everything you meant and needed to sayâ just like simon taught you. but it was difficult. you fumbled over the words, shame eating you up. you were a grown fucking women, and still, you couldnât take a damn finger. and the thought of simon leaving because he was unsatisfied absolutely terrified you.
âhow could you ever leave me disappointed?â he let you curl up into his body, switching positions so that he could hold you close and to his chest, âno need to feel embarrassed, not when youâre this perfect..â
HIII GUYS !! another little piece. can u tell idk how to write fluff that well? idk, anyways, ily all !!
Hii, I'm not sure if you accept this kind of request, but I was wondering if you could write a oneshot smut with keegan or ghost and if it's not asking for too much maybe you could add a spit kink? đ
oh anon this is such a beautiful vision. we LOVE keegan over hereâ so letâs use him as our muse.
because i KNOW keegan has a spitting kink. loves to spit on you, in your mouth, in your pussy, loves watching it dribble down into your tight holeâ clenching around nothing but his fluids.
heâs fucking into you so lovingly, because youâre his perfect, sweet girl. using his cock to make you scream his name, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. he was trying to be gentle, but the way you clung around his cock, sucking him back in each time he pulled outâ looking up at him with wanting eyes. oh you were so fucking beautiful, keegan couldnât take it.
and the way you so obediently opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out all needy-like. keegan dug himself so deep inside you, hand coming up to stoke the small bulge in your stomach,
âwant some, baby?â his eyebrows knitted together, looking so pathetic, especially when you asked so nicely,
and of course you nodded so eagerly, sticking your tongue out further. you watched as keegan gathered the spit in his mouth, letting it drool out of his mouth slowlyâ down onto your waiting tongue. âsuch a dirty fucking girlâŠâ
keegan couldnât keep his hips still as he watched his fluids drip down into your mouth, sliding down your own tongue and to the back of your throat. it was so fucking hot, especially when you closed your mouth and swallowed, making keegan whimper like a bitch.
because keegan is a bitch for you, especially when you want his spit <3
Königâs mind was occupied the moment he was stationed at this new base, placed deep within the mountains, hidden from any sort of civilian life. It was an hour-long drive into the little town where you lived, but the jets and other aircraft coming in alerted you that something was up.
Königâs brain needed constant distraction. It needed stimulation, movement, not the steady, slow flow of a vacation. Whatever that may be. âVacationâ was a loose term, more like a 5-second water break that he had in elementary school gym class. Just enough time to catch his breath and screw his head back on right. Enough time to be ready for the next mission.
It was a good moral boost going into town, König tried to tell himself once he got past the tree line just outside the base. Nothing like creating a new map, something to learn inside and out, something to become accustomed to for the time being.
He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other fiddling with the beads of his red bracelet. The car was silent besides the hum of the engine. König wasn't a music fanâ at least not the shit they had here in America. The trees were fucking massive, and it gave König a twang of anxiety whenever the wind was just a little too harsh. Bending the trees in half.
It was a good long while of nothingness. Good for his brain, nothing needed to be planned or stressed over, nothing needed counting or cleaning. Just the road and his own breath. When he finally got into town, he was quite pleased. He liked the small community, with every building made out of the wood that grew around them. It was better than a city. Better than a hot desert, too.
The town was compacted, with houses being built on top of each other, old and new buildings alike standing tallâ some tilted from old age. The road twisted and twirled around trees and houses, going up and down hills and further into the mountains. König could see the lights peaking out from behind trees, glinting in the distance. More houses, he assumed.
It wasnât hard to find a bar. The old wooden place was packed with heads, all drunk and leaning on each other, some singing old songs that sounded like a completely different language. And when he walked in, everything died down, like someone had stomped on the music and covered everyoneâs mouths. The record scratched back to life, playing a new song as everyone finished giving the new quest a look-down.
König went straight for the empty seat up front, eyes searching for every exit and every path to that exit. Once he had an escape in mind, just in case, König was finally able to settle in and order a beer.
That was when he knew that a very old, very awful addiction was about to resurface.
Your skin was what he noticed first. It looked so soft to the touch, not a blemish in sight, delicate fingers curling around the little mug handle. Then his eyes traveled up your arms, mouth watering as he took in sight of your collarbones.
Your neck was perfect. He imagined what it would be like to squeeze until the bones popped, watching your face turn from red to blue in a matter of seconds. He took in the sight of your small frame, a shot of energy running through his veins when he saw the way your shirt clung to your torso, the name of the bar stretching across your tits. König couldn't help but let his eyes travel to the dip in your chest, looking past the little V-neck and right at your cleavage.
You coughed, urging the mug towards him with a little attitude when you caught his eyes. Only then did he finally take in your face, growing hard at the way you looked at him with such annoyance. He hadnât seen such a beautiful little thing in a long while, at least not beautiful enough to earn his time.
But you, you excited König. You got his blood rushing in a way that only killing on the field could bring, making his hand twitch with hunger as he went to grab at the handleâ fingers every so gently passing yours.
And he was right, your skin was soft, as soft as the fur he skinned off of rabbits. Brought back the memories of past hunts, none of them prettier than you.
König was suddenly hungry.
âAnything better than you on this menu?â König referred to the scrappy piece of laminated paper in front of him. The line was cheesy, but the way you reacted to it made him shift in his seat, leaning over the counter with his huge shoulders.
âNo, what's there is there.â You shrugged him off, filling up other orders and passing them down the counter.
âSuch a serious little lady,â he teased, drinking the whole mug in one, thirsty go. His Adamâs apple bobbed, fingers flexing around the handle with anticipation. He already had dinner plans tonight.
âcanât smile at me? I bet youâd look even cuter.â
âSir, if youâre not gonna pay, then I can grab my manager. This isnât that kind of establishment.â
Such a confident little girl. König couldnât help but wonder where you got that from, maybe a boyfriend at home? Husband? Didnât see a ring on your finger, and trustâ he was looking.
He couldnât wait to break those fingers and your confidence. Youâd be smiling for him soon.
König slapped a ten on the table and left, picking up his Carhartt jacket from the little seat and throwing it on before he was even out the door. He went straight for his truck, opening the bed and hopping up, pulling back a huge trunk with massive locks. König pulled out his keys, flipping through each one until he came across the right ones. Every lock had a different key, ensuring absolutely no one but König could get inside.
He put each key in its correct lock, flipping the top off and feeling the rush that came with the beginning of the hunt. Inside was an array of ropes, knives, hooks, and zip tiesâ everything was sitting there for him like a shiny new toy. He hadnât done this in so long, shaking as his hand reached out for one of his favorite flaying knives. He almost wasnât sure he could do this; he was older and just a little bit slower. But you were small, so small, and in heels.
König knew girls couldnât really run in heels.
He waited outside at the back door, hiding behind one of the huge dumpsters, away from the blinding lights of the mini parking lot. It wasnât until 12 oâclock did you come out, purse in hand, digging through it as a man escorted you to your car.
fuck. König clutched his knife, seething a bit before clearing his brain. Thatâs alright, that just means he needs a new plan. The man didnât stay with you long. You closed your door, König could hear the click in the nightly silence even from across the yard. He quickly shoved the knife into his boot, hilt first, following the shadows until he was forced to come out in front of your car.
You jumped in your seat when König knocked on your window gently, a huge smile spreading across his face. It made your stomach uneasy, the way he smiled. It was toothy and wide, but his eyes were dead, and he didnât have enough fat on his cheeks to puff up. Uncanny, thatâs all you could label it.
âWhy donât you open on up, sweetheart?â König nodded at the lock, hand already settled on the handle.
You wanted to scream, but part of you also couldnât process what was going on in front of you. You worked at this place for years, youâve lived in this town for even longer, part of your brain always prepared you for something like thisâ fearing the worst always. But now? You just couldnât move.
And König was growing impatient.
His elbow came up fast and smashed into the glass, one hand clasping the back of your head as the other came into the window to cover your mouth. The glass breaking was loud enough; the last thing König needed was you screaming.
Your car was so old that the alarm didnât even go off, leaving you thrashing in his hold, trying to scream past the leather gloves. König grabbed you by the neck, cutting off your airway and stopping you from screaming altogether, holding so tight that you began to wheeze. He pulled out of the broken window, cutting your back on all the glass, ripping your clothes.
Your heels hit the concrete first, dragging as you kicked and struggled. König got you down on the ground on the other side of your car, using it as coverage, leaning over you with a finger to his lips.
âShh, shh, sweet thing. If you fucking scream, Iâll speed this whole process up right now. You want a chance to live, donât you⊠Little one?â his head tilted to the side as he whispered. he didnât bother to wear a mask this time.
When his hand uncovered your mouth, your lips trembled, and a small whine came out, making König slap you in retaliation, covering your mouth again when you cried out.
âI said, be. fucking. Quiet, are you stupid? Did I pick up a stupid girl?â you cried even harder, making Königâs dick strain against the zipper of his pants, âjust a little backwater mountain girl, too fucking stupid to save her own life.â
He moved your head from side to side, grinding the back of your head against the concrete, digging tiny rocks into your skin wherever he applied pressure. His knees dug into your thighs, and you desperately tried to cry out to anyone, begging the universe for some sort of miracle. Hoping that someone would walk past at any moment.
But no one did.
König took one huge rope and shoved it past your teeth, tying it behind your head before he picked you up, noticing how light you were in his handsâ becoming consumed with the thought of how big he was compared to you. he threw you over his shoulder, taking the long way back to his car, which now sat in the darkâ by the treeline, away from street lights.
He threw you into the bed of the truck with his supplies, leaving the trunk open so you could see what awaited you. he took you deep into the woods, driving hours out into the darkness before finally coming to a stop. You watched the night sky as you heard the door open and felt the truck get lighter as König got out. It shifted when he shut the door. The fact that you knew he was coming made your head rush and your heart beat even faster.
He quickly dragged you out, pulling you by the legs out of the truck bed, letting you roll to the dirt. The long cuts on your back were filled with dirt in no time, making you hiss and roll onto your stomachâ fingernails digging into the little rocks.
âAlright,â König used his belt to pull up his pants, standing over you with a huffâ already breaking a sweat. âPut up a little fight there, didnât you?â
He flipped you over, standing on your wrists so you couldnât move, the pain felt as if the bones were crushing beneath himâ and they might have been. You couldnât even wiggle your fingers.
He knelt, cooing when he noticed the way your brows were knitted together, tears rolling down your cheeks in heaps.
âIâll make you a deal, ok? Donât be so sad, my pretty little thing. I wanted to see you smile. Remember?â his fingers hooked themselves at the corners of your lips, tugging them upwards into an awkward, toothy smile. âawh, see? So pretty, baby.â
âgivinâ me such a pretty smile,â his words slurred with hunger, âjust for that Iâll give you a headstart, yeah?â
He took his feet off your wrists, standing back up and adjusting his belt. You watched him with round, hopeful eyes, not believing what you were hearing. That hope was ruined when you saw the bulge in Königâs pants.
âDid you hear me, stupid girl?â König spat, moving back to his truck, pulling the box back out to the edge. He lifted the top part, moving all the essentials out of the way to reveal a smooth, black sniper. Fully equipped with a thermal scope. âIâm only giving you about an hour, then Iâm coming for you. If you can find your way out of these woods, or make it till sunrise, then maybe Iâll let you live.â
His voice was sincere, speaking to you slowly and with care, like you were some child. He took a rag and began to clean the sniper, sitting up on the bed of the truck, watching you with lustful eyes.
You scrambled to your feet, kicking off your heels before you made it past the truck and into the wilderness. You dove under fallen trees, running in a zigzag line, turning in every direction just to get him off your tail. König sat back and listened to all the branches snapping, chuckling to himself as he took his time taking apart the sniper. He cleaned it and then reassembled it slowly, the parts clicking together perfectly. The bullets went in slowly, like it was some sort of foreplay for König. He waited just a second longer before he couldnât take it anymore, hopping off the truck earlier than he told you he would.
You were trembling behind a tree, crying silently into your palm when the rain began. Everything became wet and slippery, making you shiver from the cold. Your body hurt in so many ways, and all you wanted to do was go home. You wanted your mom. Your cat, your boyfriend, how could you ever go back to them? How would they ever know you were out here?
No one would know where to look.
When you heard something snap in the distance, you took off back into the woods, feet slipping under you with each stepâ slowing you down significantly. The pain in your back made you just want to give up, lie down, and die. But you couldnât. You always thought you wanted to die, just not like this.
With a newfound determination to live, your feet dug deeper into the groundâ springing you forward. You tried not to let anything slow you down, steadying yourself each time you almost fell, running around trees and taking sharper turns, even doubling back a couple times just to trip König up.
You didnât know it, but none of it worked. König let you think you were tricking him, confusing his senses. he just watched your body through the scope, completely red with heat. He watched you run from him, past trees and a whole river, before he sent out a warning shotâ hitting the tree next to your head.
You fell to your knees with shock, screaming and covering your ears as the bark splintered. You scrambled back to your feet eagerly, tripping a few times before finally getting steady enough to break out into a full run. König was close, or he was far; that was the confusing thing; you didnât fucking know.
The woods were silent, other than the sound of raindrops on leaves. Another warning shot was sent past your head, the bullet digging straight into the ground in front of you. You jumped back carefully, taking a glance behind you before you turned in the other direction quickly. Your knees were all bloody from falling, and you couldnât feel your hands every time you went to pick yourself upâ but you forced yourself to fight.
What you werenât doing was looking where you were going. König watched you through the scope as you fell, rolling your ankle over a tree root, falling to your ass, and screaming. It would be a dirty shot, König knew that, but your chest was on full display, maybe he could get a heart shotâŠ
He dialed in, watching you cry and scream, calling his name and begging for another chance. he just couldnât; he had to touch you while you were still warm.
König strapped the sniper to his back, running to you with skillful feet, hopping over fallen trees and avoiding the fallâ unlike you. he wasnât far, but when he reached you, he pounced on you like an animal, knocking you down and flipping you overâ straddling you.
He lifted your leg, letting your skirt fall as he pressed his face to the warm skin of your thigh, âOh my sweet little thingâŠâ he inhaled, âYou arenât as curvy as my last, but I always liked digging for my meat.â
âLove to start with these legs.. then work my way to your arms, just because theyâre so prettyâ âdonât wanna ruin your beautiful skin, so Iâll just flay it, keep a little piece for myselfâ
You screamed and tried to kick as König brought out the zip ties from his pocket, putting them around your wrists too tightly. âThen Iâll carve up those little fuckinâ tits.â he wrapped his fist around one of them, squeezing and biting at the nipple.
âwanna enjoy that pussy first, see if you really got a boyfriend or not,â he spoke as he sat back up, giving your cheek a gentle tap-tap before he slung the gun back around.
You watched in horror as he placed the barrel against your chest, pressing down, making you scream out even louder to no avail. No one could hear you, not out here.
âPlease⊠please, Iâll be a good girlâŠâYou begged, eyes squeezing shut as König brought his finger to the trigger
âOh, little one,â he cooed, âyouâll be such a good girl when youâre dead.â
He pulled the trigger, watching your chest bleed as you died quickly and cleanly. Those round eyes stayed open, staring up at König with nothing. No more hope, no more fear. You were gone. The end of your life. No more future, no more dreams, no more family. And you were just another name in Königâs little black book. Another meal for him to devour and remember every time he touched his cock.
âfuckinâ finallyâŠâ he threw the sniper to the side, settling between your limp legs while undoing his belt.
König bit his lip as he took his knife and cut through your skirt, shoving his half-hard cock into your still-warm body. He fucked into your body until you were cold, grunting above you as his eyebrows screwed together tight, moaning pathetically as your body rocked into the mud. His thrusts became frantic the colder your body got, fingers lacing through your limp ones as he humped into you desperately.
Both of you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and who knows what else. But König couldn't care less, he shot a load deep into your pliant body, kissing your blue lips. His poor, stupid girl. The rain ruined your warmth before he could even savor it.
The hike back to the truck was even more tiresome than the hunt. König huffed and puffed, dragging you back by the ankles, arms tiedâ limp above your head. He tried to make you look all pretty, but it wasnât worth the trouble after getting you all caked in mud; that would have to wait until he got back to the truck.
The rain had started to die down. When he finally reached the clearing where he parked, the storm was practically all gone, moving on to someplace else. Your clothes looked like rags at this point, and your back was obliterated from the branches and rocks ripping at your skin. Good thing you werenât alive to feel it.
König dropped you into the back of the truck, climbing up next to you. The spot was perfect; he was so deep into the woods, insulated by the thickest of trees. It was no wonder the base was put up here.
The little shelf of knives, ropes, and hooks still sat outside the box, next to your limp body. Your head lolled to the side, expression blank. Königâs favorite look. Even prettier on you. he knew youâd be the best to remember.
He took out the long, curved, flaying knifeâ his favorite. One heâs had since he was a boy. A violent gift from an even more violent man, his father. he placed the blade against your thigh, watching the skin dip from the pressure, giving in so easily, just like König expected. He pressed down just a little harder, watching a thin line of red start to appear, beautiful crimson beginning to ooze out. König shivered, hands shaking from pure excitement. Adrenaline. The need to see more of that thick blood run.
He sucked in a deep breath, shivering as he let it out slowly, holding himself back from just hacking away at your limbs. You were perfect, so he needed to butcher you as such. He needed to take his time, not let his stupidity take over. he needed to savor this.
He cut into your thigh skillfully, careful with his movements as he avoided the bone. Cutting through tendon and meat like it was nothing. When he was finished, he placed the thick meat to the side on a bunch of plastic, something a hunter would store deer meat in. he always cooked what he scored, but just looking at your raw flesh⊠that smooth skin that looked so good in the bar light.
When he picked up a piece after slicing it off your breast, he couldnât stop himself from sinking his teeth into the raw tissue. Blood oozing around his teeth, drooling down his chin, your skin getting stuck between his canines. You were hard to chew through, but König didn't mind, in factâ he did so with love. Chewing so slowly, taking the time to feel the way a piece of your body felt in his mouth. The salt on his tongue, the iron, it was all so addicting. he got hard on the way he choked trying to swallow you whole. Letting you slide down his throat and settle deep in his stomach, somewhere he could keep youâ forever his.
He didnât indulge too much. He still wanted to cook you, pull you apart with his teeth in the silence of his own barrack. He left your torso there, throwing your head in a separate bag. Heâd keep this one. Still too pretty to let go.
The police would never find him because this would be an isolated incident. Something he wouldnât do again because he wouldnât find another like you in this town. His pretty, stupid, dead girl.
hiii everyone!! im back !! went thru the ao3 writerâs curse, but iâm back to posting!! sorry i disappeared. gonna get to my requests very soon!! canât believe i got so many!!
price who wants his virgin!reader girlfriend to get broken in by simon
price didnât know that you were a virgin.
you didnât exactly know how to tell him when you first started your relationship. you had held off priceâs advances, pushing off his wandering hands, letting him rut himself against you in bed to sooth his need. truth is? you were just nervous. you couldnât even take your own fingers, never mind a real man like price.
he was practically tearing at your clothes right now, not being able to hold himself back when you came to bring him lunchâ taking the bag from your hand and trapping you against his desk. he had his hand palming your pussy, whimpering pathetically in your ear, âplease baby girl, just the head,â âdonât have any condomâs on me right now but i promise, iâll pull outâ. his lips trembled against yours, begging for you to kiss him.
thatâs not what you were worried about. you tried to push him off slightly, moving your back away from the edge of the table, whispering his name ever so gently to pull him back to earth. it worked, and he came out of whatever lustful headspace he was in, now just focused on you. ââiâm a virginâŠâ you whispered out even lower, growing extremely embarrassed at the way price looked at you.
price could feel his cock grow harder, straining against his pants as if he could get more excited. he rolled out his shoulders, standing up and breathing to try and stay calmâ fighting off the images of you stretching around him for the first time.
except, a better idea came to mind. price wanted to see you bent over and screaming. he wanted to see you crying and begging for him all while getting fucked open by another man. simon riley was the perfect candidate.
he left you there with your pants half down while he went to go find simon, leaving a pleasant surprise for the two when they got back. simon tried to cover his eyes, trying to be respectful of the captainâs half naked girl, but price ordered him to stare.
he ordered simon to strip down to nothing but his boots and combat pants, and then made him strip you down completely. price sat in his office chair watching the whole thing, cock still straining against his pants, refusing to touch himself just yet. âbend her over and grab her by the hairâ âeasy simon, thatâs my girlâ âgo easy on her, sheâs a virginâ
price teased, cracking a slight smirk on simonâs face as he pulled out his belt, taking out his cock and lining it up with you tight pussyâ looking up at price for the go-ahead.
âyou ready to take it, pretty girl?â price leaned over to catch your chin between his fingers, thumb brushing over your lip âgonna be a good for si?â
you tried to nod, but nerves got caught in your throat. you could feel the head of his slick cock caught on your tight hole, circling it slowlyâ the feeling made your knees press together. price only laughed louder, enjoying your little scrunched up face as simon began to push in.
you inhaled sharply, locking eyes with price as your hands balled into fists under you. you looked at price like you needed saving, and oh, that lit a fire inside him. now he needed to see you wrecked, begging for them to give your pussy a break.
you reached your arms out for him when simon got halfway in, stopping there because of how tightly you clung around him. he groaned above you, hand wrapping your hair into a ponytail. âyou got this babyâ price encouraged, âkeep your eyes on me okay?â
and when simon was finished with you, leaving a nice load inside you, price used it to lube you back upâ shoving his cock into your abused pussy. making you whine and stretch out your legs beneath him, tried tears laid over with new ones.
ânow my cock will be the only one you ever take,â
there was a better version of this, but tumblr never saved it for no reasonđ anyways i hope you enjoyed!! Thinking of making this an actual oneshot and not just a blurb ?? who knows !!
you didnât know how it happened. one moment you were crying alone, next thing you knew, the captain of task force 141 was on one knee in front of youâ holding your shaking first in his hand. speaking words you didnât hear over your sniffling.
youâd been crying because your boyfriendâ now exâ had cheated on you. everyone says its his problem, not yours, that thereâs nothing wrong with you. but you didnât feel that way. you felt ugly, you felt unlovable, and most of allâ stupid.
âwhatâs wrong?â he rubbed your knuckles, speaking in such a soft tone that you werenât even sure this was johnathan price. âwho made such a sweet girl cry?â
youâd flirted with price here and there in the past, before you got into a relationship, but nothing came out of it. you both worked. and he was militaryâ nothing good ever came out of that. or at least you heard.
joke was on you because apparently, all men found a way to cheat.
butâ you told him all about it. how he said he loved you the same day, how you woke up from a nap to pictures of someone who was supposed to be yours with another women.
he pressed his lips together, looking at you sadly before sliding into your bunk next to you, taking you in his big comforting arms. âiâm so sorry sweetheartâ he rubbed your shoulder, âsuch a pretty girl, you know that?â
you just melted into priceâs body, letting all the emotions out. crying into his shoulder and letting him rock you back and forth, hand coming to pat down your hair.
âthere yaâ go, donât be afraid to cry it outâ âdonât even need a boy like him anyways,â
you pulled away, nodding, trying to convince yourself. you tried to explain to price how it made you feel, how you felt like crawling out of your skin. were you truly that ugly?
âNo, no not at allâ price would say, tucking a little strand of hair behind your ear, âprettiest girl Iâve ever seen, drop dead fuckinâ gorgeousâ
and boy did price mean that. the tension grew slightly thick, and price was so close⊠all you wanted right now was some big arms to hold youâ and a nice older man to call you beautiful.
âyou need a man to take care of you, not some boyâ he whispered, face getting close, feeling his breath on your lips was enough to want him. âneed a me to treat you right, huh sweet thing?â
ahhh thinking about writing a smutty and angsty pt 2 !! so lemme know <3
the nickname had started with simon first. passing you in the hallway, hand falling on your lower back as he squeezed past you, greeting you with a good morning and âsâcuse me sweetheart, just gettinâ pastâ
heâd say it when catching you working out in the gym, complimenting you on your form with a hidden ânice form, sweet girl, keep those legs apartâ. somehow heâd find his way behind you, pressing his body against you. you never knew how he ended up there.
then it spread to soap, with a little more enthusiasm. greeting you in the hallways, calling the name out loud enough to get the attention of everyone. âwhatâs our sweet girl been up taâ?â, âanything new goinâ on, sweet girl?â
you couldnât lie, it turned you the fuck on. especially when simon said it with his low voice, creeping up behind you and rasping it in your ear. soap almost made a humiliation ritual out of it, causing you to run to a private area to play with yourselfâ thinking of the two having their way with you, all while calling you âsweet girlâ.
it was even worse when gaz got to it. he spoke it with such love, smiling with that natural charm he had. âhey there, sweet girl,â smirking as usual. during gun training one day he had your panties soaked from all the praising and pet-names. and you think he knew it.
price catching on is the cherry on the fucking cake. he just knows how to use it in a way that his boyâs donât. âwhatâre yaâ doinâ there sweet girl?â âsure you can handle all that?â âneed some help there, sweet thing?â
it got so bad you knew it had to be a running joke! something they were all in on. but it wasnât, you really just were their sweet girl <3
i wrote this at like 3am bc i wanted to do some sfw stuff but ended up being SLIGHTLY smutty bc⊠phew. anyways !! asks are open !!
one-shot req! not sure if you write for the bad batch, but i can't ever stop thinking about sharing a blunt with crosshair during intimacy >:] ~ đȘ±
anon you are ABSOLUTELY CORRECT.
crosshair loves to smoke. especially weed. it brings that peaceful drift that he never finds in his real life. so does being with you. youâre like his own personal drug, but being able to actually smoke around you and be himselfâ that was rare. he never found someone he was able to do that with. that was why you were a keeper.
in fact, you even shared with him, because when has a lil weed hurt anyone?
but the FIRST TIME you wanted to try it with him? oh you made him go absolutely crazy.
you were practically impaled on his cock, legs wrapped around his waist as he worked into youâ face twisted in concentration. he was the quiet type during sex, much more keen on hearing you moan, making you repeat his name over and over like a mantra.
oh my gods and the way he would hover over you to grab his lighter, digging through the top drawer for a blunt. heâd act like nothing was happening as he flicked the lighter, placing the blunt between his lips as he dragged his hips, hand cupping over the lighter, creating a soft glow against his face. his abs and lean body were on full display, tense from all the movement. looking GODLY in the warm light of the fire.
you didnât even have to ask, you just looking at him a certain way; jutting your chin out towards the blunt.
âyeah? you wanna try some baby?â he raised his eyebrow, looking down at you through hooded eyes as he took in one, long drag. he played with you, stilling his hips when he inhaled, dragging them slowly in as he exhaled, bottoming out completely when done.
âopen,â he lightly tapped your cheek, blunt held between his fingers. he placed the blunt in your mouth gently, watching with hungry eyes as you inhaled, coughing lightly with a closed mouth before exhaling. all crosshair could do was look at you with pride, smirking as your body went slack around him.
dont even get me started about the way heâd fill his mouth with smoke, grabbing your jaw with his thumb and index finger, opening your mouth wide enough to lock lipsâ letting the smoke flow from his mouth into yours as he kissed you.
or or, heâd take a huge hit from the bowl and blow it on your pussy before he eats you out <333
soap LOVES to have a quickie before a reconnaissance.
loves to steal you away from whatever you were doing, cleaning, mopping, doing the laundryâ it didnât matter where you were. he always found you.
he loves to rip away that little janitor uniform, the clothes being so flimsy against your small body. didnât even take the time to bend you over a table, heâd just take you against a wall. the concrete wall is rough, and soap is even rougher, ripping down your pants so hard you could hear the thin seams pop open.
he doesnât even wait until his cock is fully hard to start shoving it inside you, hand covering your mouth as you squealed from the stretch. heâd fuck into you like a horny dog, all pent up and stressedâ searching for his own release.
of course heâd play with you, thumb circling your clit as he took whatever he wanted from youâ only ever wanting to share an orgasm with you. this had become your normal routine long ago, getting used to the predator searching the hallways for you before he had to pack in with the rest of the boys.
Then when heâs done, and pumped you full of cum, he just pulls your half ripped pants back up, lips locking with yours for a good minute because soap is a kisser.
then you have to go the whole day dripping until he comes back to finish the job đ€·đ»ââïž
Summary â Based off of the headcanon that the reason why Jango chose cloning was becausethe slavers sterilized him
Notes â someone give jango a hug pls
Warnings â mention of past sa !! mention of past family sa !!
Tags â slight dead dove, mention of sa, slavery, sterilization, angst, based off an ethel cain song and a headcanon, noncon drug use, drug use, hallucinations
dividers by @/cafekitsune !!
âOne, apathy.
I am that I am, and I am nothing.â
A great shudder ran through the body, a long needle pulling out of a blue vein. Blinding white lights. Sharp knives and a steel table. There was a drainage hole at the bottom, rusted with blood and bodily fluids. There were men dressed in white, masks over their distorted faces.
Jango knew he was drugged; he just never thought it would feel that horrible. He felt sick, stomach twisting as it ate itself out of starvation, so much that he couldnât stand on his own two feet. Two bulky men who had been beating on him the night before dragged him by the arms, scraping his shackled feet against the ground, peeling away skin from bone. There were no sounds in the hallway, just Jangoâs ragged breathing and the stomping of boots.
âTwo, disruption.
There goes a great shudder through the muscle. A shimmering of bells through the mist.â
They strapped him to the steel table. All Jango could focus on was the small ear-piercing shriek of the lights above him. People were touching him, many hands grabbed at every inch of his body, injecting him with fluids and other drugs.
That feeling of hands on him at once brought back those memories, the screams, the rape, Torr Vizsla⊠it felt like he was on top of him all over again, strangling him, it made Jango gasp out for air that he didnât even needâ panic setting in. It canât happen again .
âThree, curiosity
One quick moment to crane the neck
I have always possessed the insatiable need to see what happens inside the room.â
He could feel his waistband being grabbed at, trying to thrash against the restraints, but to no avail. They undressed him, exposing him to the cold air of the white room. There were more restraints on him, and the drugs set in deeper, swirling the room around, making Jango see things that werenât there.
âFour, assimilation
Lo, wellspring of knowledge, of feeling, of sensation
Beauty, overwhelming
I will dislocate my jaw to fit it all in.â
The men had turned into monsters with no faces, just the voice of Tor Viszla. He was there, Jango could feel him on his skin, clawing at his body, ripping at his hair. It was happening again .
âFive, aggrandization
The pull, yes, the pull
Send down your cordage of suffocation and let me in.â
Jango screamed out for the first time, feeling it rip past his dry throat like a blade, begging for whatever was going on to just stop . He didnât want it, not again, please not again. His drug-induced state brought him right back to that moment, when he was all over him, forcing himself inside⊠Jango felt himself call out for Jaster, his father, anyone, but a thickly calloused hand covered his mouth. Immediately, Jango began to thrash around again, feeling someone start to pull apart his ankles, hands flexing open and shut under the belt-like restraints.
âSix, delineation
I want to know what God knows, and I will be with Him
Sent over the edge, I sigh
Flush against the veil, I singâ
âGonna cry like a little girl?â A distorted version of Tor Viszlaâs voice spoke in his ear, causing tears to fall down his face after days of not breaking.
âSeven, perversion
It is no good, bearing false witness
The sinner's errand
I am what I am, but we are not the same
It is no good, speaking of fairness
The fool's errandâ
Suddenly, there was a sharp pain, making his legs flex and his chest rise out of agony.
âEight, resentment
Are these laurels to be proud of?
Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live
Hate, hateâ
âYou scream just like your sisterâ, the voice mocked him.
âNine, separation
I was an angel, though plummeting
The stars are as beams shining through the wheel
I am sure that hell must be cold.â
And suddenly there was nothing. No more pain. Just the cold steel below him and the twisting world in front of him. Everything went quiet.
âTen, degradation
Nature chews on me.â
Jangoâs head fell to the side, eyes finally closing out of tiredness, red from all the straining and tears. He continued to quietly cry, confused and angry. Why was this all happening again? He just wanted to rest. But Torr was still there. Breaking him. Bending him in whichever way he willed, running his hands through Jangoâs curls; the curls that the slavers cut off without a second thought. The last of his identity.
âEleven, annihilation
This agony
Such is the consequence of the audience
I will claw my way back to the great dark, and we will not speak of this place again.â
He lay there just like he did after Torr Vizsla was done with him. Empty. Angry. Confused. These three emotions seemed to be the only ones he felt afterwards. There was no use in praying to his God now; theyâd stopped listening.
âTwelve, desolation
Therein lies sacred geometry of onanism
Of ouroboros, of punishment
I am that I was as I no longer am, for I am nothing
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