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#horangi
diejager · 1 day
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Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊
But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.
Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.
Venom!reader headcanon
Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898
Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.
It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground. 
If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies. 
It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.
This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons. 
It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled. 
He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good. 
You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score. 
You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh. 
And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much. 
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qwertchi09 · 1 day
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давно меня здесь не было чета.
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orbuz228 · 20 hours
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gladyzzia · 2 days
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Horangi and König doodles
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callsignkatzchen · 2 days
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Insertion Specialist
Horangi: So... have you two done it yet?
König: Done what?
Horangi: Had sex.
König (a 6'10 giant): No.
König: *watches 5'0 petite Reimi walk by*
König: I won't fit.
Horangi: You're the insertion specialist, right?
König: ...
Horangi: You'll figure it out.
Look on his wiki page. König was/is literally an insertion specialist...
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99pm-e · 8 months
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Brainrot is brainrotting again guys
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sweet-as-an-angel · 25 days
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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’.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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. 
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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.”
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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.”
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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.”
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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.”
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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.”
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rinnypyon · 3 months
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Vacation
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ave661 · 6 months
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inspired by @rxvengxrl on tikok more operators below♥
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bluegiragi · 5 months
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new handler.
early access + nsfw on patreon
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quozacheese · 1 year
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cryptid bfs
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it makes me so happy to see all the eldritch könig fanart/fic ❤️
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diejager · 2 days
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Okay so imagine this RBF Horangi is sneaky when it comes to his friends step daughter he watches your expressions whenever him and Konig decide to fuck you; you always grimace at Konig’s display of affection whenever he deludes himself into the fantasy of your shared love and yet you always seem to somewhat relax around him. On the day that Horangi made you squirt he realized he had opened a Pandora’s box (literally) so he decides to play a lil trick on none other than Konig. As they see your mother off they immediately jump your bones and right when the opportunity arises he spikes Konig’s drink which knocks him out and Horangi decides to whisk you away from your big bad papa Konig but being sure to leave him a lil note telling him that you were always meant to be with Horangi
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, non-con drugging, kidnapping, squirting, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any.
He began to see a difference in his relationship with you and the one you had with König. There was a distinct discomfort you portrayed on your face whenever he touched you, his hand lingering on your shoulder and lower back while you waved your mom off on her month long business travel. König was too delusional to see the wince that pulled your lips thin and teary eyes staring down, adamant to not look at either men, but you didn’t react as strongly to Horangi. A small grimace or a few stray tears, but you weren’t as tense or withdrawn by his side, more relaxed under his touch and more opened to his affection. 
He figured it was because he made the decision not to marry your mother, staying as the father’s best friend figure that always came by to drink and laze around with your stepdad. This decisive act was a game changer in his mind, the best decision he could’ve ever done compared to König. Granted, his giant friend was the first to see you, branding you as his object of obsession before Horangi was introduced to the family. He hadn’t been bothered with he idea of sharing you, he never was, especially with someone as trustworthy as König, yet he kept seeing this common trend with you: your hesitation, your reclusivenes, and your little frowns. 
It called to him like an abandoned kit would, a poor and neglected kitten that was ripe for the picking and pitifully adorable, mewling and stumbling for affection and care. It simply made sense if he was the only one to care for you, no? When he was the first to make you squirt, tasting your bitter slick at the back of his throat, tongue licking it from his scarred lips and cheek, sucking his fingers clean and licking your cunt of all your cum. It was all he could think of, the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of you around his fingers and the pretty sounds in his ears.
You called to him, your every thought, your ever cell, your very being called him to possess you, making you his alone. All he had to do was act upon his invasive thoughts. He spiked König’s drink when he wasn’t looking, sharing their usual drink in the evening while they let you rest from the last rough fucking, they rambled and watched the Tv, jumping from one random subject to another without so much as a slip of his tongue about his plan. He knew his betrayal would sting both of them, to have your trusted friend stab you in the back and to throw away a long and precious relationship would hurt them, but Horangi had to have you. 
And when König’s head bobbed with sleep, ultimately slumped forward, his beer still in his grasp, Horangi slipped out of the couch, up the stairs and into your room. He stood at the door and admired your naked and bruised skin, purple welts swollen and cunt still wet and crusty with their loads. He dressed you carefully, aware that any fought and quick movement would wake you, scare you from following him and wake König with that sweet voice of yours. He left with nothing but a few bags and identifications, anything from clothes to jewellery and appliances were useless to him, he could buy them anew and give you better versions of them. 
Whatever you wanted was yours, all you had to do was to follow him and marry him. He wasn’t delusional, he knew you were meant to be him, it was written in the stars as much as your being belonged to him to love and provide.
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poiverine · 11 months
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I’ve cracked the code
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bonus Nikolai
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sattbby · 4 months
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77iiah · 10 months
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I imagine he’s unintentionally scary when he hasn’t slept properly and he’s not even aware of it himself ft. Horangi who makes quite a comfortable resting place 😴😴😴
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hurrraaid · 4 months
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Rough Korangi designs cuz I'm never happy with how I draw them
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