#Austrian Air Force | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.

König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.

Evolve, or die.

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.”

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.

The Lieutenant is one of them.

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.

Your finger slams into the trigger.

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König.

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.

Anyone but you, that is.

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”

He freezes, muscles going taunt.

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.

König kneeled to you and bared himself.

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.

You find none.

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.

For you to come back to him. His partner.

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 2 months

Text

Here are some German specific quirks I think König would have <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

(yes, I know he's Austrian, but the difference is really only that they talk funny and have better desserts)

♡ he HATES fans and air conditioning. Like I'm talking disdain from the deepest pits of hell kinda hate.

Ceiling fans and AC are not a thing here, and literally every German looks at it with a very disapproving look if there happens to be one somewhere.

König absolutely refuses to sleep with the fan or AC on, just open a window, Liebling!

He's so upset that he can't put the window "auf kipp" :( (pls Google it, it's so hard to explain lol) like he's crushed that he can't keep the windows "auf kipp" all day.

You have a ceiling fan? Nope, not anymore. That thing is getting taken down the minute you move in together. But if you insist on keeping it, he'll secretly cut the cable to the switch.

Everyone knows all they do is whirl around dust and make you sick! He's not having it.

König acts like artificial ventilation is his worst enemy (I agree with him) and he'd rather suffocate than turn on the goddamn AC.

♡ Sundays are strictly lazy/rest days. Nothing's open on Sundays here, so we're forced to relax and not run around like headless chickens trying to get things done.

He's absolutely baffled if you have plans to go somewhere on a Sunday. What do you mean you need to run errands? What do you mean you're going out? And if you want him to come along?? Yeah, no.

His brain stops working. After the many years he's been alive, not once has he gone somewhere on a Sunday that wasn't his Oma's house for Kaffee und Kuchen.

You're not going anywhere. Plans are canceled, and you better spend the day on the couch with him.

♡ König probably misses all the beautiful old architecture Vienna has to offer. You don't quite appreciate it as much when it's just there all the time, but now he wishes he could quietly people watch in the city center :(

In my mind he's a bit of a history nerd, so he probably frequented museums and castles, admiring the delicately sculpted ceilings and wondering how people lived back then.

He'd be most fascinated by the masonry work done on the outside of most buildings. I mean, that's stone, but it's so smooth and carefully crafted.

♡ there are some very weird sayings in German that you just can't translate because they don't make sense. König is sick of having to awkwardly try to explain what they mean after he's been caught muttering one under his breath, only to realize halfway through that he looks like a maniac.

German is a very literal language, and I think he misses speaking it. We have very specific words for some things and he probably struggles to talk in English sometimes purely because the words he wants to use just don't exist.

(I'm very upset they didn't give him an Austrian accent bc it's one of my favorites, but I can also confidently say that I think he wouldn't be taken seriously at all if he had one lmao)

♡ König goes on random ass walks sometimes. Where's he going? On a walk. No, like where is he going? HE'S GOING ON A WALK.

There's no destination, you just walk. No matter the weather. Ya walk until you feel like you've walked enough. (A very German experience and I hate it)

♡ dreams of his Oma's Kaiserschmarn (me too, König, me too.)

It's basically a giant pancake that you tear into little pieces (traditionally, it has raisins too, I think) and you eat with either cinnamon sugar or applesauce (or both) and you will drift up to heaven.

It's warm, it's fluffy, it's sweet;

It's perfect for a gloomy Friday afternoon spent with his Oma and Opa 🥺

(Can you tell that I'm projecting)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Auf kipp" is a very specific window position where only the bottom two hinges stay attached so you can tilt the window towards you and a little crack is open so you can always have fresh air!

"Oma und Opa" grandma and grandpa, which he loves so much, undoubtedly.

"Kaffe und Kuchen" basically tea time. You get together and eat cake and have coffee! Mostly on the weekends :)

"Kaiserschmarn" what dreams are made of.

🩷

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soullessdianthus · 8 months

Note

Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked.

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir.

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir.

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together.

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable.

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want?

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better.

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you.

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts!

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe.

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg.

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

#cod #cod mwii #codmw2 #request #reader insert #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #perv!konig #perv!könig

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Note

Your fics are amazing! Would you ever write about König?

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : rumours of an elite soldier have the base reeling. murmurings of 'monster' and 'freak'. what happens when you come face to face with the beast, only to find he's nothing like the whispers cautioned?

pairing : könig x f!reader

warnings : 18+ mdni. war, violence, graphic gory imagery, self-conscious könig baby, little bit of hand kink, basic bitch smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, tight fit, sugar-sweet teeth rotting smut. this feels so basic… but I was struggling. please note, kilgore is a name previously linked to könig. I have used it as a codename 🙂

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Warfare training preps for the inevitable—those moments you need to fire a weapon and how to camouflage and navigate enemy territory without detection. These inescapable horrors are 'another day in the office' by the time you enter the field, the prickling chill of fear driven out of your system. Whistling RPGs are not dissimilar to the scream of your Drill Sergeant's commands, the cold, hard ground of a dilapidated building no more uncomfortable than the standard-issue barracks mattress you would ease your wearing bones into after training.

Fear, beaten out of each man and woman that slipped on the uniform, held no commonplace in the military. Weapons, the call to war, brutality and sirens did little to raise the blood pressure.

Whispers held far more weight and struck unease into the hearts of even the most desensitised of fighters.

It was inarguable that each military in every country, at any time, had its own 'boogeyman'. Notorious fighters with absurdly large kill counts consisting of three digits that inevitably earned a bounty for their head, funded by the enemy—elite warriors who acquired a legendary reputation that ultimately became horror stories. The Ghost of Kyiv, The American Sniper Chris Kyle. These military cryptids kept their enemies awake at night, baying for blood and begging for the piles of bodies they left behind to stop growing.

After years in the SAS, you were beginning to think that there was no such thing. Each soldier was prolific, brutally efficient and inarguably the best of the elite forces. It was only upon entering Task Force 141, a genuinely mean feat, that you began to hear the unshunnable, hushed whispers of Kilgore.

“Did you hear about Berlin?”

“Kilgore? Yeah, heard he blew away a whole Al-Qatala cell.”

“Twelve of ‘em. The hostages were traumatised.”

These mumblings had persisted for months, consistently updated with crazy tales of whole garrisons blown to smitheries by this massacre-happy hulking mass of pure military precision. You, like the rest of 141, elected to ignore the gossip. This was a battlefield, filled with elite soldiers, not a school playground.

✰

Austrian mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, your heart lurching in your chest as your rain-soaked fingers almost fumble your gun to the sodden ground. It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain edging on a flurry of sleet as lightning cracks above your head. Clothes soaked through, the moisture and icy wind form something of a ‘Pact of Steel’, working together to deep freeze the marrow of your bones.

As you slip in the mud again, heel skidding across the slick soil, you realise how dire the situation truly is. Separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigated north. You continued running for the safe house once discovering your coms had been dispatched by a stray bullet— that certainly would have ripped through your heart and dispatched you instantly if not for the layers of plastic settled over it.

Thunder rumbles in the clouds above, the boom reminiscent of a distant air strike. Slurried earth gives way beneath your feet as you push on. Exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you scramble for safety, bested only by the adrenaline that buzzed in your ear like a vicious drill sergeant. “Move it! Do you wanna die?! Well fucking move!”

You can hear their boots in the mud, the advancing Al-Qatala mercenaries chasing after you and shooting blindly at your heels, competing with the distance and dense foliage. You’re like an injured fox, feverish bloodhounds nipping at the end of your tail— what could they do with an SAS hostage? How much leverage would it buy?

Bullets whistle by your feet, the proximity of some enough to set your hair on end. They’re closing in, jowls dripping with slobber as they attempt to close their teeth around you. Just a little mor—

Crack.

Chaos erupts behind you, the thump of a body and a flurry of shouts. Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages, Urzik and Persian. You scramble for cover behind a treetrunk, the bark cutting at your palms as you brace for incoming fire.

"Kilgore!" Someone shouts, and your blood runs cold, eyes wide as they dart around the foliage for the legendary soldier. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping Al-Qatala mercenaries into the mud beneath them. You hear the yelled orders, Urzik fighters urged to retreat.

You're unsure if one fails to hear the directive over the din of warfare, but you hear the advancing feet of the mercenary advancing on your position—the squelch of the mud beneath the rubber sole of his combat boots. You scramble with your weapon, checking the gun's safety and readying for a one-shot shoot-out.

When a bullet shreds through a victim's head, the sound is reminiscent of a watermelon being cracked open. It's a sickening crunch. A wet spray of warm blood cuts through the downpour of rain, splattering across your face. Some of it is solid, brain matter and shards of cranium.

It's not silent by any means. The rain continues to beat against the floor, pattering in the puddles that had formed in sole-shaped prints in the soaked earth. Cracks of thunder sound in the distance, and the droplets drum against the leaves in the forest's canopy. However, the sounds of the firefight cease.

"You can come out," a voice calls to you. Accented; Germanic. You hesitate for a moment, once again strengthening your grip on the gun you'd clung to. Your lungs strain with the sudden intake of breath, ribs crushed beneath your tac-vest. "Ghost sent me."

Easing your head out from behind the tree trunk, you marvel, somewhat horrified, at the gigantic, hulking build of the man who stood in the clearing. Fallen enemy combatants surround him, a blanket of corpses draped across the turbid forest floor. A black veil covers his face, and his equipment litters his tac-vest.

You'd be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight. Instead, fear lurches in the pit of your stomach, and you freeze in place. It's only when your eyes catch the crystal white slicing through crimson on the patch sewn into his shoulder that the airy voice, which certainly doesn't match his enormous frame, brings you a sense of safety.

"The safe house is ahead. We could get you warm–– clean you up?"

✰

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in the warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you're soaked, the damp clinging to the threads of your clothes. The scent of iron still assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood from your face.

Kilgore, who informed you upon entering the safehouse preferred to be called by his name König, had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room. He looked ridiculous like this, attempting to compact his body into the crevice. You don't doubt it's an attempt to ease the nervous energy bleeding through your pores, your hands trembling as you attempt to dip the rag he had gifted you into the hot water.

"Did..." You swallow thickly, glancing up at the Austrian, "Did you tell the Lieutenant where we are?"

"Mhm-hm," he nods slowly, his jade eyes watching you from beneath the face veil. They're sharp and bright, contrasting so strongly against his uniform's muted and inky shades. "He's planning evac."

You scrub the gore from your face, wincing as you feel the shards of bone scrape across your face. König's eyes bore into you from the other side of the room, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime the rain had failed to wash away.

"I've-... Heard a lot about you," you speak to him, attempting to cross the vast space he had consciously put between you. His green eyes gaze at you, unblinking as he watches your expression. König is trying to read you, trying to comprehend how you feel. He's cautious, trying not to push you outside of your comfort zone.

"About Berlin?" He asks, and his voice is so soft that it reminds you of a child attempting to speak after being reprimanded by their parents–– wary of a second bout of raised voices.

"Yes," you mumble, dipping the crimson rag into the water before laying it across your skin again, "About Berlin."

König hums softly, casting his eyes to the aged, wooden floorboards. The woodlice have chewed through them, moss growing in some parts. You can see he appears uncomfortable, his knuckles white from the fists that form in his lap.

"I didn't mean to scare anyone," König admits in a whisper, catching you off guard. His shoulders sag slightly, and you see him pick at loose threads in the knees of his camo trousers.

"N-No... I meant to say how courageous it was," you point out, watching his fidgeting hands still suddenly, "You risked your life for those hostages... saved them singlehandedly. No one else would have done that."

Hesitant silence settles between you both, König considering your words carefully as he stares at his lap. You can't see his face, the veil concealing all but his eyes, though you're almost sure he's stunned by your comment. It takes him a moment to discern his next step, but he finally lifts his body from the wooden chair he'd pulled into the corner. It creaks with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space towards you.

"You also saved me," you point out, watching him kneel before you, "Faced a whole cell..."

König steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn't speak at; first, silence hanging between you once again as he dips the cloth into the water. Then, he soaks it until it drips, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint colour and standing out against his pale skin.

"Ghost asked me to," he mumbles, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. He gives you time to pull away–– you don't.

"You could have ignored him," you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. He still towers over you, even balanced on his knees, head and shoulders slumped over you. You can see the ocean green of his eyes clearly, the halo of brown flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and oddly feminine.

The pressure of the cloth against your skull is so delicate. König appears to be afraid of hurting you, gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline. He shakes his head gently, considering your kind words. "What kind of man would I be, Leibchen?" his voice is airy, tone flimsy.

Those stunning eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching for your answer. Instead, all you manage is a weak shrug.

"Were... Are they afraid of you?" You whisper to him, struggling to find the words to broach a topic that appears to affect König so profoundly. It's his turn to answer wordlessly, offering an equally frail nod.

König takes your chin ever so gently in his hand, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turns your head in search of further blood-spatter. He sweeps the makeshift face-cloth over your skin, focusing on removing the grime altogether.

You'd heard the cruel rumours, the whispers of 'monster' and 'freak'. This König you'd met couldn't possibly be the same they uttered about maliciously. He held a child-like kindness, the brutality of the job seemingly doing little to chip away at his humanity. The same couldn't be said about the others.

"König," you whisper his name softly, watching as he continues to focus on clearing up your skin. His soothing touch smoothes across your temple now, removing some mud speckles. "Don't listen to them."

You can see his eyes soften, once again turning to yours as you reach to fiddle with the edge of his veil. Upon tracing the border between the pads of your thumb and forefinger, you find that it's t-shirt material, the zigzag seam stitching rough against your touch like barbed wire. "They haven't seen you like I have."

Those eyes gleam with amusement, little crows-feet creases forming in the corners. He's smiling, and your heart stutters against your chest.

"That right, Leibchen? I've had a mask on this whole time."

The gentle teasing lilt to his tone makes you lightheaded, urging you forward with your frankly ridiculous plan. You begin to lift the edge of his veil upwards. You take it slowly, his pupils dancing across the bare skin of your face as you reveal the point of his chin. His skin is equally as pale there, barely exposed to sunlight.

König doesn't stop you as you continue to lift the fabric from his face, exposing the curve of his lower lip. The skin there is soft and plush, little creases in the flesh making your heart thud awkwardly against your ribs. Finally, you stop at his cupid's bow, so soft and subtle it's barely there at all.

You can feel his gaze warming your skin as you trace his lips with your eyes. Hesitation holds you still, uncertain about the final step of this stupid plan. König, as ever, doesn't push you. Doesn't even breathe. When you lean forward, the tip of your nose brushing his own that still lay beneath the cloth, you hear a sharp yet gentle inhalation. It triggers goosebumps across your forearms, butterflies battering the pit of your stomach.

Soft. His lips are so soft when you mould your own to their shape. König's veil tickles the skin of your face when you kiss him, and you feel his gigantic hands settle on either side of your neck as he begins to return your affections. They swallow you, and your pulse leaps against his palm.

König smiles, and the kiss turns toothy and a little lopsided. You can't help but giggle nervously, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he presses gentle pecks to the edge of your mouth. Despite his massive, intimidating frame, each action is deliberate and soft.

"... Are your clothes still wet, Schatz?" He's breathless despite his seemingly put-together appearance, his nose bumping yours as he interrupts your answer for another fragile kiss. "We could get you out of them."

✰

Your standard-issue military t-shirt slips and falls from the cot's mattress as König gently pulls your hips towards the edge. His fingerprints have already bruised into your thighs despite his attempts to be gentle. When he'd begun to panic, you told him not to worry–– he'd already bruised up your neck with his teeth and lips; what was a couple more?

Butterflying your legs out for him, König groans softly as you expose your glistening cunt for him. You're shy, covering your face with your hands as his fingers massage the soft, malleable flesh of the inside of your thighs.

"Schatz," he whispers, and you peer through the gaps of your fingers. König gazes down between your legs, green eyes gleaming as he positions his cock between your folds. "So beautiful."

It's ridiculous, you think, staring down between your legs. König is huge in every sense, the shaft of his cock thick and veiny and drowning out the seam of your sex as König shifts his hips forward to swipe the length of him across your weeping cunt. You can't help your mind running away with itself–– surely he needed a weapons license to carry that thing-?

A weak chuckle sounds above you, and you crane your neck to catch his eye. "I will take it slow, Schatz, I promise you."

You believe him. He had been so delicate with you this whole time, laying you down gently on the bed, careful when removing your gear and your clothes not to let the material snag on your nose or chin.

König's hand disappears beneath the face veil, spitting into his palm before he smoothes it over the head of his cock. He groans, eyelids fluttering beneath the mask as he drags his hand over the length. It's a pretty sight, you think, such a colossal man shuddering in bliss. When he sweeps his cock through your folds again, he carefully taps the tip of his dick against your clit to illicit a whimper.

"Mhmm, gentle. I promise you," he repeats, inching the tip of his cock down until it settles at your entrance. The soles of your feet find purchase on König's hips, and he massages your calves gently as he begins to inch into you at your nod of approval.

Oh, Christ.

König stretches you the moment he sinks inside. There's a delicious burn, one that has you lifting your hips with a whimper as you equally try to escape and dive into it. He's wheezing, eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he watches you flutter around his size.

"Ha-So tight, Schatz," he groans loudly, stopping when you firmly grip the bedsheets. He notes your expression of slight pain, the tears welling in your eyes as your body attempts to accommodate the intrusion. König seemingly can't help the flurry of apologies that fall from his mouth as he leans over you, settling his thumb against your clit in an attempt to ease you open. "Here. I want you to feel good, Engel."

The tremors in your thighs rattle against his hips as he circles your clit slowly. It's blissful, the sticky, warm arousal that blooms through your abdomen as he teases at the sensitive nerves. You arch your back against the mattress, moaning out his name breathlessly as he continues to inch his cock further into you. You barely notice when he finally settles the rest of him inside, wailing softly when it twitches and knocks something earthshattering inside you.

"O-Oh fuck––" you choke on your curse when König shifts his hips forward, jutting into your cervix and winding you suddenly. You probably look ridiculous, eyes rolling back into your skull as you claw at the vast expanse of his chest. You drag pink lines down the pale skin, drawing blood to the surface, but it does little to phase König this far along.

"Good, Liebling?" He murmurs, continuing to assault your clit. You can barely form a coherent sentence in response, drooling around a string of 'yes, yes, yes'. It's all he needs to find comfort in advancing, easing the length of him out of your weeping cunt before driving it back in at an achingly slow pace.

You want to slam your fist against his pectorals and insist he go faster, but you're not sure you're ready for it when he slides into you balls deep. It's as though he's settling among your lungs, filling you so good that you're seeing static in your line of vision.

The sound of a desperate groan from above barely brings you back down to earth, noting how he's staring at your face. His pupils are blown wide, almost devouring the green of his irises. It takes you a moment to realise you're drooling, his slow and steady pace already pushing you to a mindless edge.

"Oh-" you moan, digging your nails into his abs. They ripple beneath your touch with each deliberate thrust, and König hisses at the sharp sting and the crescent moon indents they leave behind. "F-Fuck, König- Too much-!"

"It's too much?" He wheezes, eyes searching your face. You desperately shake your head, terrified he'll pull away from you despite the inching arousal building at the base of your spine. Wrapping your legs around his hips, your heels press into the small of his back and hook him in place despite your protests.

It sparks something feral in the hulking man, his hips surging forwards and jolting you up the mattress. Your breath escapes you in a squeak, arousal soaring and buzzing thickly in your abdomen as König mumbles in German, his soft voice coming out all gritty under the strain of his exertions and bliss.

"Mhmmm- fuck-" you babble, eyes rolling again as you lift your hips to meet his. He sinks impossibly deeper, and your breath stutters as you feel the telltale tug of your orgasm. "Oh God- König, I'm-"

"Tell me," König whispers, rutting up inside you. He doesn't bother to inch out of you now, repeatedly battering so deep inside you that you struggle to inhale as your orgasm approaches fast.

"Hngngg- hah-ah- I'mgonna- c-cum-" you choke with each sudden thrust, his thumb quickening its pace against your arcing clit. Perhaps he shifts his hips slightly or reaches even deeper than before, but he brushes against something utterly debilitating, and you cum with a loud shriek of his name.

It bursts through you with blistering heat, your fingernails sinking deep into the curves of his bicep as you brace against the waves of bliss that crash over you. König keeps fucking into you, your walls squeezing tight around him as his thumb persists in its assault on your throbbing clit. Tears stream down your face, and König can't hold on much longer as you strangle his cock.

"Hah-Shit-" he slurs, his voice barely reaching your ears as he buries himself as deep as you can take him. He cums with a haggard moan, body trembling as his cock spurts inside of you. There's so much of it, too, leaking out of you before he even manages to move.

Both of you take a moment, both stunned by the overwhelming ecstasy. König doesn't bother withdrawing from your heat as he slumps beside you, turning you on your side to face him. He offers no words, burying his face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.

Your chest heaves as you suck in oxygen, skin prickling with heat as König encases you in his massive arms. You don't need the sheets, his body-heat burning hot beside you as you press your skin to his.

No words need to be said, you think. König had offered his feelings in the form of his reverent touches and delivered his thanks for your kindness in the delicate kisses he'd pressed to your lips as he carried you into the bedroom.

As you lay in the dark, settled into König's side, you trace your fingers over the curved scars, the bulletholes that have healed over against his ribs. They rise and fall beneath your touch, lungs expanding and deflating with each breath. It's a sobering moment, the thrumming of his pulse against your palm reminding you of his humanity despite the whispers at the base that had insisted upon his bestiality.

You realise those who speak cruelly of him and ruin his self-worth don't understand their impact. To them, he's a cryptid–– his very existence called into question. They hadn't seen him with their own eyes, only heard the mind-boggling tales of his startlingly impressive missions and monstrous size.

They hadn't felt his heart, the way it fluttered against your touch when you'd offered compliments. Hadn't experienced the soft plush of his lips pressing into your own in heartbreakingly sweet kisses. He was no monster.

And when Lieutenant Riley came for you the following day, choosing to ignore the marks left on your skin and the way you hesitated before climbing into the helicopter to offer the Austrian a gentle wave and a promise that you would return, you began the mission to rewrite his story. To change hearts and minds.

It didn't take long at all.

"Did you hear about Kilgore?"

"I did! He saved a member of 141. Incredibly brave–– I heard the situation was dire."

"She spoke very highly of him. Said we could count on him."

"I certainly wouldn't mind fighting alongside someone so dependable and courageous."

join the taglist here

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sabosbabygirl · 1 year

Text

Unpopular König Opinions/HCs:

-He has some experience. Not a virgin but didn’t have a ton of partners either.

-Has many fantasies abt you & asks you if you guys can try them. Role play/you being the boss and making him beg are his favorites.

-Hates being seen as cute. He is 6’10 and is built like a horse. He is a man. And likes to be seen as such. HOWEVER, has a cute side that only you see. He will be cute only to you but everyone else, he is König, The Great.

-I CANT SAY THIS ENOUGH, HE ONLY WEARS HIS OPERATOR GEAR WHILE ON THE JOB & NO WHERE ELSE 😤

-Has social anxiety but is not shy. Can order for himself but prefers to be in less crowded areas so he can hear himself think & hear you talk.

-Doesn’t like loud noises and BOOMs bc it reminds him of his job.

-Keeps personal and work life separate. Even if you and him have the same jobs. You both are two different people outside vs inside the job.

-Secret fan of Captain America.

-Has a shoe collection & tries to match his shoes with you (like air force 1s, converse, vans, etc.)

-Reads poetry & books that are different languages.

-Cooks Austrian dishes when homesick. And plays German music from time to time.

-Likes to slow dance with you in the house. Any reason to hold you close.

-Doesn’t have a type. He looks at personality.

-Loves pet names: “Big Guy”, “Lover”, “Sexybutt”, etc. Likes all pet names bc it gives him confidence.

-100% plays video games but also likes to go out on adventures with you: amusement parks, grocery shopping, etc.

-Coffee lover and can make a mean cappuccino.

-Vocal in the bedroom (“more”, “beg for me baby”, “cum all over me”), as well as outside the bedroom. The man will talk your ear off & normally its things like “what if aliens are real?”

Thats all I got for now 🤭🫣

#cod mw2 #cod mw2 headcanons #konig mw2 #konig smut #konig x you #könig call of duty #könig cod #konig #könig x reader

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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

Text

Under Your Skin (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: In an attempt to get under Ghost's skin with the unwilling help of König, you realize the L.T. has been getting under yours for far longer.

Requested by @urfavsunkissedleo

A/N: I'M BACK FROM TUMBLR JAIL SO IM REPOSTING THIS COS LIKE 100 OUT OF 3800 PEOPLE SAW IT AND NO TAGS WORKED AT ALL

Category: Mutual Pining || Sexual Tension || Rivals/Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: Graphic Language || Sexual Implications

GIF by collinnmckinley

Sweat trickled down the length of your spine, like a finger tracing the skin. You shivered at the sensation. It was hot. You couldn’t understand the vendetta between Price and the air conditioner, but whenever the Captain was involved in training, it was always sweltering.

You swiped your arm against your forehead and, to your chagrin, the skin was just as slimy as the rest of you. The slick texture made you groan and you reached for your shirt, pulling it up to pat your face dry. You prayed for a cool breeze to hit your bare midriff but by the time you’d finished scrubbing your features, there was no relief.

When you dropped the fabric, Ghost’s gaze had you pinned from across the room.

“Use a towel, Sunshine. Don’t be a grot,” his voice was a harsh bark that echoed in the space between you. You grit your teeth.

��Pick your partner for the final round,” Price interjected before you could reply, no doubt a purposeful move. His eyes flicked from you to Ghost with a meaningful glare, a very stern and father-like look that had you frowning. You weren’t children needing to be realigned. Perhaps, the Captain should have offered his L.T an attitude readjustment, if he wanted to be so involved.

You could feel Ghost’s stare burning into your skin. He’d positioned himself carefully by the resident sniper- the other marksman. Your competition. It was not like you’d planned the rivalry, neither you nor Birdy had really interacted much with the other. But you knew that they had been revered in the 141 before their injury. Before their accident.

Ghost’s first words to you had been an immediate comparison.

“This,” he’d gestured to your frame, “is meant to replace Birdy?”

You weren’t a replacement, you were a fucking addition. The force was growing and there needed to be more than one sniper. One was out of commission, KorTac had offered a fill-in but there was still an opening for one more and you were it.

Yet, you still chased credibility in the dark of Birdy’s shadow.

Ghost took a step towards you, his fingers trailing the other sniper’s shoulder like a farewell. You clenched your jaw.

“König!”

Your voice rang through the room like a church bell, loud and alarming. The L.T froze in position, the giant turned to face you and you swallowed thickly. The man in question tilted his chin downward, his balaclava wrinkling against his neck.

König was enormous. You knew that he’d been the one to put the other sniper out of commission, you knew that he was wild and manic in the field. You knew that you wanted to break him.

But another part of you didn’t want to admit the true motive behind taking König as your partner. The way that Ghost’s fingers curled into his palms gave you the satisfaction that you were seeking- he was angry. A smirk curled your lips upward as you appraised the Austrian before you.

“Wanna tussle, big boy?” Your tone was almost sultry, it passed as playful but you knew that the lieutenant didn’t like games. You could feel his gaze burning a hole into your face, you could almost taste the fury that rolled off of him in waves. It was a low blow using König as a pawn, especially due to the severity of what he’d done. But, at the end of the day, risk comes with the job description and this wasn’t the result of operator error.

Everyone’s a victim at some point, the world doesn’t stop for anyone and if you crumble you’re left behind. Birdy might have been frozen in place and Ghost might be nursing them back; but you? You weren’t hitting the brakes for anyone. Unlike everyone else, you weren't going to shy away from the Beast.

“Are you sure?” König coughed, flicking his sights over to where Ghost and Birdy stood. The sniper pretended that they weren’t paying attention, though their shoulders were tense and their jaw was set. But, Simon? He was outright staring.

“You don’t scare me,” you snorted.

“I should,” was his firm reply, his eyes hard. The man’s gaze was chilling as he took in your figure, memorizing your features inch by inch. As if you'd failed an unsaid test, König met your eyes with a grimace. “I don’t think this is a good idea."

Ghost fingers unfurled from his fist, satisfied.

Satisfied.

You were in front of König in an instant, the bottom of his balaclava hooked within your fist. You gave him no time to react as you yanked down hard against the fabric, forcing him nose to nose with you. The man's sharp gasp came as music to your ears and on any other occasion you would have laughed- but, now? You were seething.

“I’m not Birdy.”

König trembled in your grip.

His fingers came to rest against your shoulders lightly, trying to steady himself from being manhandled. Those tired eyes were now wide and alert, frantically searching your features from inches away. His uneven breaths brushed against your lips and you could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"I know." König finally whispered, a tremor in his voice. "I know."

"So it's sorted!"

The two of you jumped as Price clapped a hand on your shoulders, the contact prompting you to split apart hastily.

König readjusted his balaclava, his gaze pinning you where you stood.

"König and Sunshine will pair up," the Captain continued, removing his hand from your body but tightening his grip on your partner. Price leaned in towards the giant, his voice low and his eyes dark. "If you put one more of my snipers in hospital, I'll put you in a casket."

König's eyes hardened.

You let your sights wander over to Ghost. He was ushering Birdy to one of the wrestling mats, his hand hovering over their back as they walked.

You clenched your jaw.

"I know why you're doing this," König hissed and you snapped your attention back to the brute. He had you pinned beneath that emerald glare, his fingers clenching and relaxing over and over by his side. He was nervous and he was angry.

"Petty revenge?" You shot the soldier a saccharine grin.

"Jealousy."

Your smile faltered.

König stepped towards you, snatching your wrist and spinning you so that your back was pressed against his body. You bit your lip so you wouldn't squeak in surprise, there was no effort in his manhandling- no thought behind the logistics. He was so strong that he didn’t care what counter-move he left himself open to because he knew that you weren’t enough to be a threat.

His chin pressed against the top of your head as you tried to wriggle your hands from beneath his arm.

“You and Ghost.” The words were a rasp, a statement not a question. Your eyes were forced in the direction of the Lieutenant and his sniper as they methodically worked through sequences. His attention was purely on the broken soldier before him.

“Could say the same of you and Birdy,” you snapped, finally budging your hand free. You dropped from his arms, moving behind him to kick his feet out from beneath him. König dropped to his knees gracelessly, the thud echoing through the gym. He was on his back in the blink of an eye with only a groan in response.

“I don’t want any part of this,” he hissed through clenched teeth. When he opened his eyes you were straddling his waist, knees locked tight on either side of him. He was so wide that it was a difficult feat.

“Part of what?” You raised a brow, “training with someone who you haven’t traumatised?”

König’s eyes narrowed. He moved faster than you could register, heaving his body up from his hips. His arms were around you, forceful and firm as he rolled your bodies to the side. By the time you took a breath, you were beneath him with his hulking mass pressed between your thighs.

You swallowed thickly, glaring up at him.

And although he had cushioned your head and back with his hands during the maneuver, although he had been careful and precise with his movements- it didn’t hide how easy it had been for him. When he stared down at you with that hard gaze, his chest heaving and his body wedged against your own- you understood the fear that Birdy had felt.

“Ghost scares you more than I ever will but listen to me, Sunshine.” König’s voice was low and his words were intentional. “This cat and mouse game you both have, leave me out of it.”

“There’s no games,” you snarled. The beast’s hands gripped your wrists, slamming them down beside your head. You hated that he cushioned the impact with his fingers, you hated how gentle he was being—treating you as though you were fragile, as though you weren’t an equal. As though, he was better.

He leaned in close, your skin burning at the heat rolling off of his body. “There are easier ways to get his attention.”

“I’m not trying for his attention,” you snapped, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Is that why you let me get on top of you?”

You glared at him, chest heaving from beneath his. König raised a brow. He was daring you to disagree, daring you to lie and say that he had bested you. He hadn’t. Every move had been purposeful but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d also played into his game.

König’s eyes darted to the side and he took in a shaky breath.

“You owe me, Sunshine.”

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, forcing both of you to crane your necks upward. Ghost stood over your prone bodies with expressionless features. He’d schooled his brows to remain neutral, his balaclava leaving him more exposed than his usual skull piece.

“Time to swap.”

The gravel in his tone made you shiver. König shot you one last, meaningful look, before standing to his feet. His attention was immediately drawn to Birdy and he sucked in a breath when the sniper stared right back at him.

“You got this, big guy,” you murmured reassuringly from your place on the ground. He hummed his response, an absent-minded noise that told you he was barely listening. You were not the sniper that he was interested in, you weren’t the sniper that anyone was interested in. You weren’t a broken defenceless bird with snapped wings, you weren’t soft and friendly, and you sure as fuck didn’t want anybody's pity.

Ghost remained quiet, only offering a small nod to the bigger man as he brushed past him. You noticed that the hostility between them wasn’t as pronounced as it used to be. The Lieutenant had always chosen to pair up with König during these sessions, humiliating him over and over until he was red in the face.

That was why you weren’t afraid of König.

Ghost was the dangerous one.

When the grim reaper pinned you with his gaze, your heart set into overdrive. You’d wanted to irritate him, you loved it when you got under his skin. The thrill of his anger being turned on you, the sliver of fear you’d feel when you knew he wanted to shake the rebellion out of you but couldn’t- it was exhilarating.

It was a power play and you were always in control.

As Ghost looked down at your relaxed figure, you had the sinking feeling that you’d flown a little too close to the sun. He offered his hand, eyes never wavering from your own. You couldn’t read his expression, you couldn’t pick up on his thoughts or his mood. He was an enigma as always.

The alarm in your head screamed for you to not take his hand.

The maverick in you ensured that you took it, anyway.

Immediately his fingers closed over your own and he pulled you to your feet with a hard jerk. Your body launched upwards, a gasp slipping from your lips as you collided hard into his chest.

"Get it together, Sunshine" Ghost chided as he set you straight. You readjusted your position until you were at arms length and safe from his touch.

With a sharp glare, you wedged your tongue between your teeth. God, you just wanted to throw him to the ground as hard as you could. Having him flustered and writhing beneath your body in front of his peers would have to do.

So, instead of giving the verbal response he sought, you simply nodded.

"What?" The lieutenant prodded, offering an experimental swipe at your hand. "No snark today?"

"Don't need it," you huffed, twisting your body out of reach.

"That so?"

You shot Ghost a feral grin, “I’m already under your skin.”

The man blinked slowly, stunned. You took the opportunity to step into his space, throwing yourself up and onto his body. His hands came up to grip your thighs instinctively, realising too late that you’d been playing with him.

With a snicker, you swung your weight to force him off balance. He teetered on his feet in a desperate attempt to maintain his footing and you took that as your cue to set into action. In one second you’d climbed him like a tree and in the next, he was flat on his back being straddled.

“I’m disappointed, Sir. König was much…” you pretended to search for the word, “harder.”

Your hands pressed against his wrists, forcing them down on either side of his head. Ghost’s eyes were wide and his chest was heaving; you knew he was trying to process what had happened as well as the implication you’d made.

“Harder?” The question fell from his lips before he could catch them.

“Much harder.” Your smile was all teeth as you appraised the man beneath you. Again, you’d won. Again, you had the L.T scrambling for words, always on the backfoot- always conquered by wit.

The afterglow of your victory blinded you from seeing Simon Riley’s eyes narrow.

He pulled his wrists from your grip as easily as breaking a cobweb, using his hands to prop himself up. You sucked in a breath as his face came to be inches before you, heat rolling from his skin. But the L.T said nothing as his eyes bore into yours, he was barely restrained, seething from beneath his mask. His hands came to rest against your thighs and for a moment you worried that he would launch you across the room.

The sound of Soap’s snickering from behind you quelled your sudden unease. In front of all these people, there was nothing that Ghost could do. You weren’t doing anything wrong, technically. You weren’t being insubordinate, you weren’t straying from the training program and you hadn’t been inappropriate with your subtle innuendo- he had nothing to be pissed about.

You smiled at him, a saccharine curl of your lips that dripped with mischief. Ghost’s eyes dropped to your mouth, watching the way that it moved as his fingers tightened on your thighs.

“You’re still in submission, Sir,” you let your gaze crawl down his chest to where you were sitting in his lap. “Yield?”

Your heart stuttered when he loosed a dark chuckle.

Suddenly, it didn’t feel as though his hands were resting on your body- it felt as though they were preparing.

“Oh, I’m not done, Sunshine.”

The world shifted from beneath you and you gasped as Ghost stood to his fucking feet with your legs still wrapped around his waist. Immediately you tried to swing your weight as you had before but Riley wasn’t having it, this time.

“Oh no you don’t,” the L.T tutted. His hands looped the underside of your thighs and bounced you back up so that you were forced into position.

“Don’t-” you rasped, fear trickling down your spine. He was going to body slam you straight back into the ground, his weight driving down on you. It wouldn’t be enough to severely injure you and it was still within the grounds of training.

“What’s wrong, Sunny?” The words were hissed between his teeth. “Don’t wanna get ‘under my skin’ anymore?”

There were no takedowns that didn’t involve punching, gouging or striking and, although you were afraid, you weren’t going to assault him over it. He had you exactly where he wanted you and you were an idiot to have not just properly sparred.

“You can take this one, Sir,” you shook your head as you gripped his shoulders. “Just put me down.”

Ghost’s eyes were hard but you didn’t miss the flash of amusement.

“What’s the word?”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Please?”

Ghost shifted you upward as though he were preparing to throw you against the floor. Your hands scrambled to loop around the back of his neck and your thighs tightened against him.

“No, no-”

“Say the fucking word, Sunshine.”

You glared at him, “you want me to fucking submit to you? Is that it, Sir?”

Ghost blinked at you and for a moment you thought he might reconsider, that he might realize the implication you’d made and back off at the sound of it. As always, the man in the mask was unpredictable at best.

He leaned in close, ensuring that his next words would only be heard by you.

“No,” Ghost growled, his head tilting as he observed you. “I want you to keep going, Sunny. Keep going, and then I’ll have a reason to have you under me.”

Your eyes widened, that deadly gaze pinning you to your place against him.

“Wanna play stupid games? How about we play the one where I shut you up on this fucking floor in front of all these people?” He offered, the words heated and his grip tight. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. Ghost overwhelmed your every thought, reaching through to every crevice of your mind.

When you were thoroughly stunned, Ghost snickered.

In the next moment, you found yourself with your back pressed to his chest and his bicep locked around your throat. You hadn’t realized that he’d even dropped you, hadn’t had half a mind to react to his counter-attack.

He’d played you like a fucking fiddle.

“Yield!” You snapped, slapping his arm as hard as you can manage. The sound echoed throughout the gym, a toll on your pride. Ghost released you from his grip with a soft snort.

When you whirled on him there was nothing but amusement plastered across his expression.

“Under my skin, huh?”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #konig x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #cod x reader

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the-slasher-files · 1 year

Note

I got this idea in my brain.

König getting some pussy so good he forgets to pull out. Neither party is complaining.

[CALL OF DUTY]

YOUR BEAST

KÖNIG

Oh oh oh ooooh my God I love this!! Warnings include: accidental breeding, knifeplay, mirror sex, stomach bulge, size kink, daddy kink and of course dirty talk... Hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

Stretched. Marked. Burning. A deep ache, almost painful, fluttered from your core reaching through your throat and bubbling up in the sound of incoherent words and wanton cries. He pushed you further into the depths of a vicious sea and allowing you to bare witness to the storm tearing through his eyes still smeared in black paint.

"K— Kön—" His name, sweet and brutal was caught in your throat with another deep thrust.

"Tell me, baby. Tell your King" You could hear the cocky rumble behind the words, sure that his mouth was curled in a smirk if only you could see. It wasn't the black hood with bleached tears that hid his face, it was the fact that König's massive hand pushed the back of your head down, forcing your face into the mattress.

Oxygen waned within your seering lungs, body covered in sweat, spit and cum. Yours and his. Both of you had lost track of what round you were on, but your brain had melted out your mouth long ago, perhaps when he placed you on the kitchen counter and finger fucked your cunt until there was a large puddle of your mess on the tile below. Or maybe it was when König first walked through the front door and pinned you against the wall, having just come off a 2 month long mission gone wrong and he was desperate for you. A caged animal with claws dripping blood and devastation running through his veins with each pump of a war-torn heart.

A garble of whimpering words tried to escape your pretty mouth only to fall flat with a dumb tongue but he heard one word "C—Can't"

König's crushing hand disappeared for a moment with a dark growl rumbling behind his ribcage allowing you to sputter and gasp from the newly found air. However, it wasn't long before his mammoth hand appeared again except the long fingers tangled with your locks, gripping strongly and pulling you back with ease. Your body now flat against his front.

"Yknow, I've never liked that word... can't," He rasped out with rough lips grazing along your naked shoulder. "...Now, Maus,"

Humming in response to the nickname for you, eyes half-lidded and foggy with a cockdrunk haze, gazed up behind you with a whimper. Konig's thick and long cock held still against your cervix, relentless and unmoving, there was no ability to wiggle within the soldier's iron grip.

"We both know you can," He sneered with mischief and wicked intentions flashing like lightning behind the intense blue eyes.

Suddenly you felt it. Cold and sharp laying flat on the tender muscles of your neck, daring your pulse to remain steady. A gasp left your kiss-bruised lips and eyes went wide in shock, any haze gone from them as you stiffened on Konig's massive frame and he felt in, a quiet groan sounded in his throat feeling your spongy walls close in around him.

"shhh Maus, do you trust me?" The beast was gently pushed aside for a moment to check in before you nodded wordlessly, "Good girl"

Body still stiff, Konig's soft praise and protectiveness calmed your overstimulated nerves. You were and always will be safe and loved by your king. He reassured you every day, even if he was on the other side of the planet.

"I want you to see something, sweet girl" His voice went dark, dripping with a heavy accent brought your thoughts to a halt, "Just watch how fucking good you take me"

Konig hissed, twisting the hand in your hair to turn your head forward to see the bedroom floor-length mirror capturing an absolutely sinful scene. The 6 foot 10 Austrian soldier's hulking body, skin tanned and scarred, muscles tense, visibly controlling his strength not to break your little body before him. He was still dressed in his beige cargo pants now dark in parts with the stains of your countless releases, they were folded down making the V on Konig's torso even more prominent, drawing your eyes to where your dripping cunt was being spilt open around him. Soft open kisses were placed from your left shoulder to your right making your eyes flutter up. Going across the thick, veiny arm hugging your ribcage like a deadly anaconda, reaching up to hold the large german military blade to your throat, his hand overwhelmingly the knife handle making it look like a toy but the cold bite against your pulse made you know it was real.

"Konig" Your voice was weak, daring to crack at the sight before you.

Intense blue eyes stared back hungrily as he raised to the full height on padded knees from behind you. Releasing your hair to drag down where you two were connected and spread your pussy open as if his cock didn't do that enough before he rumbled with a sharp thrust inside you, "Look at this tiny little cunt begging for me"

A feverish heat spread to your head as the man you knew as Konig was slowly, methodically turning into a beast, something primal and ancient clawing out desperately. The air had been stolen from you once again as Konig fell into a sharp, deep pace, angling his hips in just the right position to make you see stars.

"Konig, Konig, Kon-" You chanted, almost as if it was a ritual to an old god.

He couldn't control it any longer. The way your breasts bounced with each splitting thrust, the way your drooling pussy leaked around him and dripped on the bed, how your body looked like a tiny toy against his, holding you with ease as your eyes rolled back within your skull even though Konig watched your stomach bulge taking every thick inch of him. Dark sentences in German could be found between animalistic grunts and moans, but they didn't meet your ears beyond the lustful haze, drunk on everything that was Konig.

"C-close, D-Daddy, sooo c-close" A cry tore through your throat, body about to give out still looking at the reflection as much as you could focus.

"Give it to me... Now" He growled deep, removing the blade from your neck and pushing you forward. Massive hands pushing, grasping and bruising your hips as he lost himself, fucking your body like a fleshlight through your final gushing orgasm. "FFFFUCK"

The world went black between you both.... Breath heavy.... Body tingling.

"Fuck," He pants, "Fuck"

The beast lingers in the form of a man, hunched over his lifeless feast with damp huffs.

"M'sorry, baby... sorry, fuck" Konig knows he lost his head, it happens sometimes in the field turning into that aggressive hound breaking bones with the hands that held you. "verdammt"

Slowly he rolled to the side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body close as you came back to life. First, the feeling of achy muscles and blissful tingles across your skin made your eyes flutter open half-lidded, reaching out to draw Konig even closer if it were possible.

"Easy, sweet girl, easy" He coos, guilt growing within his core with thorns.

Shifting with a whimper, he was still inside you and the now soft blue eyes went wide, he had never done that before with you.

"...Need you, Konig" You meekly whispered, needing his warmth and comfort so much now with your thoroughly fucked out body.

"B-baby, okay, just-" Konig stumbled slightly over the words that wouldn't stop.

Stunned, he didn't know how to react. One side of his brain didn't want to pull out and the other side just wanted to make sure you were ok and make sure you knew what had just occurred. It was your body after all and your choice, never his even though Konig's pride and fansites overcame him.

A whine broke the train of thought that ran through his clouded mind, rolling back his hips and pulling out. Stick warmth spilled out of you involuntarily as your cunt quivered from the aftershocks and the Austrian groaned at the sight, wanting to just shove it all back in and fuck you again, but he held steady and turned your weak self towards him. Cuddling and ducking into his neck. The scent of gunpowder and his cedar aftershave stirred within your lungs like a mystical potion, always needing more of him.

Gazing under your lashes softly, you knew what happened, how could you not feel it.

A wicked smile curled on your lips as he delicately pushed the hair away from your face. His pierced brow raised as your small hand reached down to sheath himself inside you once more with a hot moan, staying there hopefully for hours now, "That's where you stay, big man"

Fuck, you were his everything

#lol the dom twist of it all to the end #my writing #HOPE YOU LIKE #könig #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #cod mwii #mwii #könig x reader #x you #x s/o #smut #fanfiction

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ismaeljorda · 2 years

Video

Eurofighter (2022) by Ismael Jordá Via Flickr: AirPower 2022 - www.ismaeljorda.com - Nikon D850 + 600VR @ 1/1250 f4 Iso64

#Eurofighter #EFA #Austrian Air Force #Airpower22 #Airpower #Dogfight #Merge #Smoke #fighter #military #ismaeljorda #Nikon #D850 #600VR #flickr

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burstinn · 6 months

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Eldritch Octo! König x Male reader

I want an x male reader with eldritch König. I always find x female :(( so I made one for myself.

Can be read as Gn! reader but targeted audience is male or people with he/ him or he/ they

Warning: Translated German, Non-con?, Forceful relationship/ toxic relationship.

Striking and sliding your legs out of the wreckage of your teams ship. Coughing out blood and sea water as you suck in a breath.

Burying your head in the sand of an island you managed to get onto.

The sand was cold. So was the air. You were cold. You turn your body to look at the wreckage or what's left of the wreck. A few scraps float to the island you sat on.

There were no other survivors or none you could see. You didn't even know why and how this happened.

You were just down at the docks then you heard an alarm go off making you sprint upstairs to the main deck. Seeing the panic and screams of your team running around.

You tried to ask what's happening but no one answers. All to consumed with whatever happened to make them panic this hard. They we're all scrambling around. You could hear some Shooting rounds some shouting orders others running past you to get downstairs.

Then everything went blank you couldn't remember what else happened. Just a loud bang and you wake up floating on some scrap then you saw this island. You must've passed out. It's a miracle your even alive I mean you were unconscious the whole time.

Did an enemy pull out a surprise attack? That could be possible. Was there something wrong with the ship? Also possible..

You let out deep shaky breaths. You were probably the only survivor on that ship. You tilt your head from side to side looking at this lone island you were in. Behind you looked almost like a jungle you couldn't see past the bushes and trees contributing to how it was night. It was eerie

Weird. It looked like a huge island. It could possibly fit a colony or small village. He couldn't remember seeing this on the map.. Is this an unmapped island?

You stay silent. That's odd...no sounds of animals not birds, not predators or prey hell not even crickets. How could an island be this big but no animals?

Your thoughts were cut short when you hear someone walk on the sand. You flinch swiftly tilting your body to see who it was an enemy? A teammate? A wild animal?..

You sit up. Wait.. That's not.. Right..

It's a 6'10 man walking towards you. Wearing military uniform? A hood hiding his whole face only showing his eyes.

"W-What the-"

You mumble out. Was there a search team already? Why was a lone military man in this island?

"Hello, schatz. I finally get to see you"

He spoke with an Austrian Accent. He spoke with familiarity like he knew you. But you didn't know him. You shakily stood up when he was close to you. Carefully balancing yourself and getting a position to run if this man tries anything.

"Wh-Where is your team? Where are the other soldiers? Who are you? Are you a search and rescue?"

You quickly asked narrowing you eyes in suspicion. Which only made the man before let out a gutteral laugh.

It made him smile seeing you look so strong and cautious even getting in position to sprint away from him. Adorable he doubts you'd even have the time to process what he would do before you could even start running.

"No no schatz, I'm not here to rescue you. I'm here to finally make you mine!"

The Man says normally a glint in his eye. Enthusiasm in his voice as he steps closer.

"Excuse me? This is no time to fucking joke- who the fuck are you?! I swear if I-"

"I'm König" he cuts you off, "there's no need to tell me your name I already know everything about you, bitte come here. Let me finally hold you"

You step back as the man.. Named König held out his arms expectantly waiting for you.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! No! Where are your soldiers?! W- How do we get out of this damn island?!"

You hiss. Screaming at König the hint of authority, anger and fear in your tone. Which made König's enthusiasm fall. He didn't like that tone you were giving him.

He hoped you'd be more submissive.. More cooperative with him. You can see under his mask, his mood shifts.. So did König's tone something more mocking, angry, sinister.

"Ruhige Schlampe, You don't leave the island. I won't allow you too meine liebe. You are confused, it's sad you don't remember what happened"

He responds. Chuckling as he doesn't waste no time to quickly walk over to you and grabbing your arm.

"Das ist traurig Schätzchen, it's okay I'll tell you. I destroyed your ship. I killed everyone. So I can finally have you."

König cooed in your ear. Placing his gloved hand in your cheek.

Your stood frozen.

Is this guy joking? There's no way- but he

"Nein, I am not joking. I can feel you are scared do not worry I will take care of you. I will keep you here in this island.. With me.. Forever"

König hummed as he wraps his arms around you. He just read your mind.. Just when you were about to open your mouth.. To scream, to tell him that this isn't some funny joke.

You felt something wriggling under König's mask. Then something wet and sticky hit your face then multiple wrapping around your face.

You let out a yelp being quickly muffled as you look down and see tendrils.. Octopus like tendrils wrapping your face.

After an agonizing moment of feeling wet slimy tentacles slink around your face some even going in your mouth.. And you felt something touch your lips.. This felt so uncomfortable.. It felt so.. Disgusting..

Then König pulls back leaving circle like marks on your face. You let out a sharp gasp you couldve pushed König but He was holding onto you. You couldn't even move.

"WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT WAS THAT?!? GET OFF ME GODDAMIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

You screamed so pathetically. It was music to König's ears he had dreamed of this day for so...so long. To hear you whine under him. To make you be his. He knew you'd put up a fight that's what he likes about you.. So strong, brave... He go on and on about why you even had the privilege to get his attention.

But he did this for you. Making an island and killing off anyone who'd get in König and your romance life. This was enough of a testament for his love for you. And you would understand it. You should be grateful.

He deserves you now that he'd shown his deep adoration for you! He'd make sure you will.

"Do not be scared schatz, we can be together of you just let me do this. Bleiben wir zusammen"

König pulls you closer to him. Burying your face in his chest muffling your protests even as you pushed and pulled away and at König he wouldn't budge. He didn't even care if your wet body soaks his clothes.

"You are cold yes Mein Mann?, do not fret I will make you a viable house you can live in"

He smiles under his mask. You could tell by the way König insanely looks down at you.

His arms around you felt crushing even as he forces you to lay at the sand with him.

"Is this island nice for you? I made it for you. nur für dich, let me keep you warm. You must be so tired."

Note: so like first post.. Nice.

But if I wrote something wrong or missed something about the German.. Tell..

And idk if I'm making part 2 I'm laaazzzyyy.

#konig x male reader #konig mw2 #konig x gn!reader #cod x male reader #call of duty x male reader #Eldritch König x male reader #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig #könig x gn!reader #könig x male reader #x male reader #gay

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pekejscatbed · 9 months

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I wanna fuck you like an animal | König x GN! AFAB! Reader

Info/Warnings:

This is a r*pe fic. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read at your own risk.

fanfic masterlist

———

König can't help himself, not when you look so small next to him, his tall figure towering over you; the size difference drives him crazy, makes him ache with want and need and pleasure as he fucks into his hand in the middle of the night, thoughts of you- of how tiny you are compared to him- running through his mind, images of you caged under him as he fucks into you while you scream at him and beg him to stop as you sob flash in his mind. He just can't help himself, he really can't, and he knows you'll understand- you just have to!- so he sneaks into your tent one night, knowing you'll be sound asleep by now (Konig's been watching- stalking- you for a while now, memorizing your schedule in wait of this night, in wait of the night when he'll finally make his fantasies a reality and ask- force- you to be his).

The Austrian waits until everyone is asleep, and the camp site is quiet, waits until he knows you're asleep, then unzips his tent to sneak off to yours, where he slowly unzips yours and steps in, closing it behind him.

He towers over your sleeping figure, eyes wide with the look of a wild animal and grinning underneath his mask, his teeth bared as drool runs past his lips and down his chin as he takes in your unconscious body; you're on your side in your cot, one arm under your head for extra cushion, the other held against your chest, and your legs on top of one another. You wear a white wife beater tank and a pair of grey sweats, like most of the other recruits do, but the outfit just looks so much better on you than it does anyone else. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips.

König slowly turns you over onto your back, careful not to wake you- not yet. He brings a hand to your face, long, thick fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face, thumb grazing over your pretty- oh, so pretty- lips (König has to stop the whine that threatens to escape his lips as he imagines your lips around his long, thick cock, your cheeks hollowed and spit running down your chin as he thrusts into your mouth, making you choke and gag as tears gather in your gorgeous eyes and a mixture of bile and stomach acid rises up in the back of your throat).

His hands makes their way down your throat, resisting the urge to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, then down your chest, lightly grazing your nipples through your tank top, and down your stomach- oh, how he wants to rest his head on your soft skin, using your tummy as a pillow while he naps after a long day on the field-, until he reaches the waist band of your sweats. König slowly pulls your pants down past your thighs, lifting your hips as gently as possible to make the task easier, then does the same with your underwear, exposing your cunt to the cool night air; you shiver lightly in your sleep and König pauses, eyes trained on your face for any sign of consciousness (not that it would matter if you woke up now instead of later, as he can easily overpower you with just his size alone, though it would take away from his fun). When he finds nothing, he looks back between your legs, watching as your pussy flutters ever so slightly due to the cold and licks his lips under his makeshift t-shirt mask, his cock stiffening in his pants.

He pulls apart your pussy lips with one hand, using the other to gently swipe over your clit with his gloved fingers, then prod at your hole; you aren't wet, and his finger meets resistance, so König lifts his mask up past his lips to spit on your cunt, gathering it up with his thick fingers and smearing his saliva over your entrance, coating his glove in the process. He prods at your entrance again, still met with resistance, but his finger slips in this time, and he slowly works his thick digit in and out of your cunt, then adds another, now scissoring you open. Your unconscious body begins to react to König's protrusion, slick slowly building between your legs and coating the gloved fingers inside you, making it easier for Konig to slide his digits in, out, in, out.

Konig pushes his long fingers farther inside you until he's knuckles deep, and you shift again, a quite moan slipping past your lips. The man looks up at your face to see you still sleeping and smirks under his mask, pulling his fingers back slightly, then pushing them forward again; his grin widens when you moan again, and he's tempted to take you like this, to finger you to completion, but he won't, not now, at least. No, he wants you to cum on his cock, wants you to wake up to his cock inside you as he pumps you full of his own release and your bodies become one.

He pulls his fingers out of you, watching as your pussy tries to pull his thick digits back in, squeezing around nothing; König smacks at your cunt and your pussy flutters in response, and you whine in your sleep, the sound heavenly to König, who feels his cock throb in his pants, restrained by the fabric of his boxers. He grabs at your ankles, sliding your body down your cot until your legs dangle off the edge, and he fully removes your pants and underwear, throwing them to the ground (he wonders how you haven't woken up yet, but he's grateful, happy to play with your sleeping figure for a little while longer). Then he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down the fly of his pants, tugging both his pants and boxers down to his thighs. König once again lifts his mask, this time spitting into his gloved hand and jerking his cock a few times, then he spits onto your cunt once more. He rests his free hand on your lower abdomen, palm open, and uses his thumb to circle your clit; with his other hand still around his dick, he positions himself at your entrance, slowly sinking his thick cock into your wet pussy. It takes a bit of effort, as he's girthy, more so than his fingers, and he didn't spend long stretching you, but it's what he wants, he wants to split you open on his cock and he wants it to hurt, wants the pain to make your cunt burn before it turns into pleasure.

The Austrian pushes the tip of his dick inside you, not stopping when he feels you begin to stir, instead forcing himself all the way in, in one quick thrust, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass cheeks. König groans as you squeeze around him, moving his huge hands to grip at your waist like you're nothing but a doll, your name rolling off of his lips. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the way his cock drags against your walls, stopping when his tip catches at your entrance, then pushes back in, not wasting anytime in setting up a brutal pace. He wants to wreck you, wants to ruin you in your sleep until you wake up, wants to watch the look of recognition flash of your eyes as you realize what's happening, realize what your Colonel is doing to you, fucking into you like an animal- like a monster- and knowing that you can't do anything about it but scream and cry because König is so much bigger than you, taller and stronger than you have ever been, and fighting against his harsh grasp would do nothing to save you from the man- monster- above you.

Under him, your body jolts and you start to wake, eyes slowly opening as an incoherent murmur leaves your mouth; your vision is blurry, and your mind is fuzzy, you don't register what's going on, assuming you're just having an extremely erotic and incredibly real feeling dream. That feeling doesn't last long, though, because the pain between your legs is all too real, stinging and burning with every thrust of the person above you, and all too real is the feeling of blood sliding down your ripped entrance and dripping down your ass, too. Suddenly you're fully awake, eyes shooting open, wide with panic, and your mouth opens in a scream that doesn't last even a fraction of a second before a hand much, much larger than your own is slapped over your mouth, covering the full lower half of your face, leaving only your teary, frantic eyes visible as the recognition finally kicks in and you realize just who that t-shirt made mask belongs to and the tears start to fall.

A deep moan dances past König's lips as you struggle against him, scratching and kicking at him the best you can in this position, fighting with all your energy to escape his towering figure and his powerful strength- to escape him- your wasted efforts doing nothing except turn the man above you on even more. König thrusts into you at an animalistic pace, hips snapping forward so harshly that the movement jostles your whole body; his thrusts are deep, too, and you can feel him abuse your cervix with each slide in, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. And you can, because König moves the hand bruising your side to your stomach, pushing down on the bulge in your belly to feel the outline of his cock inside you. The feeling is enough to make you cum, your body betraying you in your weakest moment, and the sight enough to make König cum, you squirting around his cock as he stills and shoots his seed directly into your womb. You cry as you orgasm, tears and snot streaming down your face as your body convulses around König's dick.

König removes the hand from your mouth to grip your jaw, digging his fingers into your cheeks to force you to open your mouth; he lifts his mask to his nose, revealing the sickening grin on his lips, and spits directly into your open mouth, kissing you right after and shoving his tongue in your mouth. As he kisses you, he moves his hand to your neck, squeezing so hard that you can no longer breathe, and when your vision begins to fade, and your eyes start to close— he lets go. You gasp for breath, sobbing harder than you ever have in your life as snot and tears stream down your face and run down your chin, some of the mix falling past your lips and into your mouth, and König takes the opportunity to shove his fingers down your throat, making you choke once more. He begins to move his hips again, fucking into your cunt as you gag on his thick fingers, bile rising up in your throat; he pushes his digits farther down your throat, until you puke around his fingers, and only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, grabbing at your chest before wiping his fingers on your shirt as vomit spews past your lips and dripples down your chin, mixing with the salty tears and mucus already accumulating on your skin.

The man above you groans, continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace despite the smell of vomit staining the air. He wants to fill you with his release until your stomach inflates, wants you to breed you until you have no choice but to birth his kids, wants to impregnate you and see the shame in your pretty eyes as you walk around with his offspring growing inside you. And he wants to make you cum as he takes you, wants you to cum on his cock as he shoots his kids inside you; he's determined to make you cum again and again and again. And he does, he makes you orgasm one after another without stopping, makes you reach a constant release until you're cumming dry and your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes limp as you lose conscious, passing out in the arms of the monster above who still doesn't stop, fucking your completely limp body like a ragdoll until he's releasing inside you again, filling you up so much that a mix of his cum and yours drips out of your abused hole despite his cock still sheathed deep inside of you.

When König finally pulls out, cum flows out of your weeping cunt, mixing with the blood from your torn skin, leaving a puddle of white and red between your legs and under your ass. He whines at the sight, giving your pussy another harsh slap before lifting his mask and dropping to his knees to shove his tongue inside your cunt, lapping at the mess of sticky white as his nose rubs against your sore clit. He stays there, eating you out and drinking in your juices until your legs spasm around his head in another dry orgasm despite your unconsciousness, and he has to hold your legs apart with his massive hands so you don't crush his skull with your thighs, though if this was how König were to die, between your legs after forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you all the while stuffing your cunt full of his seed, he finds he wouldn't mind.

(When you awake the next morning, your Colonel is gone, but the traces of last night, of what he's done to you, are still there; a mix of dried tears and snot and puke stick to your face and neck, and you can feel the crusting of left over cum on your ass and on the outside of your cunt, and your body is so, so sore, pain taking over your system as you begin to cry once again. Memories of last night flash in your mind like strobe lights, and you swear you can still feel his hands on you, can still feel his length inside you, and your chest heaves up and down as your breath becomes shallow and erratic, hyperventilating until your vision becomes spotty and your mind shuts off as you pass out once more.)

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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 4 months

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For the person, who requested the bullies König and Horangi I accidentally deleted the ask 😔 but! I tried to write down all that I remember and I think it's pretty much all of it. I hope you enjoy it and to let you know how happy you made me with your wonderful kind words💜.

(Warnings: Non-con, Force blowjob, Oral (Fem), Breeding, Humiliation, Degradation, Bullying, Panty sniffing, Full nelson, Creampies, Squirting, Force handjob, Choking, Hair pulling,)

This is dark! If this is not your thing please move past it. You don't have to hate on me just because you don't like what I write. I decided to make this a part one and put 2 because I feel like it would be too long if I didn't so.

Chewing on part of your bottom lip, you looked up at the building of the College you attended. Dark gray clouds dominated the usual blue sky, and the scent of rain heavily whiffed in the air. You huffed a sigh as you began to walk with your fellow students, you muttered thank you to the boy who was nice enough to open the bulky door for you as you watched the floor, squeezing your books more against your chest as you heard the hectic, loud chatter of friends meeting friends.

You hesitantly looked ahead and a few feet from your locker were the men who loved making your life miserable, you still felt the bruises from them holding your wrist too hard. König, the Star Quarterback and captain of the football team, and Horangi the most liked member of the basketball team. Both transfer students from different countries who became the populars of popular people. Horangi laughed and könig smiled as if someone must have made a good joke and like some sixth sense of torture, they looked your way, wicked smirks on their lips once they saw you.

Whoever was up there took pity on you and the ball rang, sparing you from their torturous ways, for now.

The ball rang for the last time, signaling the closing of the college and for everyone to head to their dorms. Slowly you packed your stuff, while the rest of your classmates hurried to leave your last class and go home. By the time you were walking to your locker, the hallway was bare of life, your footsteps brought a ghastly, eerie feeling to the otherwise silent path, it felt like you could hear your breathing echo around you.

You drop your backpack and shove your shelved books in it, sway it over your shoulder, and continue your journey to your dorm. Your yelp was muffed as a large hand clapped around your mouth and pulled you within a lightless janitor closet. "Don't scream unless you want to be hurt, Ja Liebling?" the austrian voice of one of your bullies purred from behind you and took his hand away. Horang stepped closer to you after turning on the light and reached out to move a stay hair behind your ear.

"P-please just let me g-go." you stuttered, heartbeat was beating like a drum in your ears. "No can do, sweetheart." König cooed, spun you around, forced you to your knees, fisted your hair, and shoved your face against his bulge, "Scheiße! Braves Mädchen! (fuck! good girl!)" he groaned, throwing his head back, and squeezed his celeste eyes shut as he humped your cheek, in desperate strokes. "Such a good girl." Horangi purred in agreement as he replaced his best friend's hand and yanked your head back as König rushed to unbelt his pants and pulled them down, his girthy dick slapped his stomach from his fast movements. Your eyes widen at the sight, he is long, veiny, big, and has an uncut head.

Both men chuckled and smiled wickedly at your terrified expression. König pumped his cock, pre-cum drooling out of the slit on his bulbous tip, suddenly he thrusted his dick into your maw and throat, you gagged harshly, you never sucked a dick before, and if you have it wouldn't be as huge.

Horangi pushed your head forward as König drew his hips back and snapped them, causing you to gag again. The salty/ sweet pre-cum overpowered your taste buds as König used your throat as a fleshlight, a mess of saliva and pre-cum pouring down your chin, his sticky heavy, full balls smacked your chin his ginger pubes dark and wet. They smelled a little bit musky an almost addiction scent.

You peaked through your eyelashes and the sight above you had your core heat up with slick. König'd broad chest heaved and sweat glued his usual fluffy and mid-ear cut hair to his forehead, his groans and moans high-pitched in tone. His thrusts fasten, his balls tighten, and unexpectedly robes of his warm cum, painted your mouth white and forced you to swallow every drop.

Once he pulled out after staying in place, you coughed have nearly choked on his jizz. You didn't have time to rest when you were lifted from your spot on the tiled floor and pushed into Horangi's chest "Forgot about me,여자 아기? (babygirl)". He pouted before taking off your shirt, bra, and skirt and when he got to your panties, he took a deep whiff of the crotch area, his honey-brown eyes rolling back in his head as he inhaled the tang of your arousal.

You whimper as your body begins to heat up at the pervy vision of his clear satisfaction.

When your form was completed naked you shoved back into his taller, giant companion. Your back against his chest, your legs now in his forearms and hands behad your head as he lined his cock with your opening "Don't worry Schatz, I'm gonna fuck this whore of cunt till you see Sterne. (Stars)" he said before dropping you down onto it, inch by inch buried into your cunt until he was balls deep. "Scheiße!(Fuck!)" König growled and drilled his cock up. Each snap of his hips slammed his tip to your cervix, it was so fucking good! You aren't a virgin but they never had any good rhythm, never moved their hips at a good angle. You moaned feeling Horangi's pink tongue lapping at your clit, hooking into the hood and König jerked his cock at an angle that glazed your G-spot and cervix with powerful thrusts. Hornagi used the tip of his tongue to flick to his friend's movements before suckling in your swollen bud and the knot within broke, your pussy clenched and sprayed your juices onto König's dick and balls, a load of warmth filled with your cunt, thag must have been the groaning man that hold you in his arms cum.

You panted but you didn't have the time to rest as your back touched the cool tile and your leg threw over Horangi's shoulder, eyes black and hair messy like he ran his fingers through to push back his bangs that stop semi-past his eyebrows, his blue jeans off and his dick hard. His was just as thick yet not as long as Königs, the head cut, and balls heavy, ready to pour his potent in a breedable hole. He wasted no time and slammed into your wet core, Horangi leaned down, and the very motion dug himself deeply, "Is our little toy ready to get her brains fucked out?" Horangi chuckled as you whined pathetically for him to move. A second chuckle joined with his, and from your peripheral König kneeled by you, pumping his cock "Ja, she's already becoming a cock hungry whore for us." König grinned grabbed hold of your hand, and made your fist his large cock. You felt a wave of humiliation and embarrassment but that didn't last as Horangi began to jackhammer into you, grinding into your cervix, his now wet dark pubes became sticky with slick rubbed at your bud of nerves and that was enough to get your toes curling, your moans, and squeals was music to your bullies. Just as good as a song from your whimpers of pain when they hurt you.

"Goddamn bitch!" Horangi growled in pleasure, the feeling of your clenching cunt edged him closer to his climax, and he'd never admit but your pussy was the best he had so far. His pounding was harsh, fast , and precise, you gasped as he kissed you deeply, sneaking his tongue past your lips and swirling around yours. All the while König groaned at the sight, watching you become more and more cockdrunk, he bit his lip as he fucked your closed hand like your core.

With one thrust Hroangi spilled his seed into your already cum filled cunt his hips continued to jerk and stutter. You came with a powerful vengeance, your body couldn't handle it. And the void welcomed you into it's dark embrace.

(shout to @diejager and @konigsblog for making me addicted to these men)

#tw.dark content #tw: noncon #Bully!Horangi #Bully!König #könig smut #könig x reader #horangi call of duty #horangi x reader #horangi smut #könig call of duty #König x reader x Horangj #horangi x reader au #könig x reader au #horangi x you #könig x you

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

No handlebars

Summary: A brat being a brat by finding a loophole in the rule.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

W/C: 4.1k

Rating: +18, age gap, dom/sub, oral sex (male receiving), cumplay, slight humiliation kink, dry-humping, tiny bit of aftercare

A/N: No plot. Pure filthy smut, so obligatory you are responsible for the media you consume. It's literally just a blowjob with some humping, nothing else. You have been warned <3

Masterlist | List of tags

You hated waking up alone, but you accepted it due to how different your sleep schedule was from Toto's, and you loved him, so it was a small sacrifice. While he was often up with the first rays of the sun, you could kill someone if they woke you up before 10 AM. And even that was pushing it if they didn't have a fresh coffee or something sweet as a bribe. So you weren't exactly happy when the loud sound of the doorbell ripped you from the blissful arms of Morpheus and plunged you into a much too cold and too empty bed. Usually, you would just go back to sleep, but today was one of those days when your need to touch and to be held was just too high.

Even though there was no one there to hear it, the loud, annoyed groan left your mouth. You kicked your feet to throw the duvet from your body, exposing yourself to the cold air, because of course his damn Austrian ass just had to open the window. You could almost hear "Lüften is healthy for you, Schatzi" in his voice when you were closing it. Your bare feet on the hardwood floor didn't help your mood. Your face was donning a sour look when you came downstairs in search of the attention you craved, so when you saw an opened laptop and the cell phone in Toto's hand, you weren't exactly pleased.

He was fully dressed, even though it was well before noon on the weekend, which meant that he had already left the house, but now he was back, and it was all that mattered. With making as little sound as possible, so the microphone in his phone wouldn't pick it up, you stepped behind the couch, first making sure he wasn't in any sort of virtual meeting.

You gently grabbed his attention by rubbing your cheek on the top of his head and placing a soft kiss on his temple. He hummed, acknowledging your presence, but his focus was still on the many, many graphs on the screen. But today you were feeling bratty, so instead of leaving him alone, you playfully bit his ear, which resulted in him giving you a warning look. However, in your head, it was a success, because he turned around from the laptop, so not only you did do it again, this time a little bit harder, but you also pulled the neckline of his shirt down and slithered your hands under the blue material in search of more skin-to-skin contact. When you did that, Toto roughly grabbed your wrists and pulled you by them over the backrest of the sofa. With a quiet yelp, you landed on the seat on your back, with your legs draped over the pillows. But despite his abrupt reaction, there was no anger or even annoyance on his face, so you knew you could push back even more.

You stayed still for a moment, letting him think that you were subdued, and his grip on your wrists loosened, which was exactly what you were waiting for. With a devilish smile (which he, fortunately, didn't notice), you quickly parted your wrists, forcing his fingers apart and freeing yourself. His gaze instantly snapped to you, but you were already conducting your sneaky attack. You rolled down the couch, landing on his lap, essentially straddling him. You smushed your face against his chest and wrapped your arms under his shoulders, pinning him to the couch with your body. He could easily overpower you, but instead, he just sighed with resignation, leaned back, and put his free hand in between your shoulder blades, keeping you where you were, while he continued talking over the phone. You didn't even pay attention to his words, focusing on the low timbre of his voice and how it vibrated deep in his chest.

You were absorbing his warmth like a sponge, and you could feel your body relaxing against his, the annoyance and frustration from before melting away and slowly being replaced by something else because the heat you were stealing from him seemed to be pooling in your abdomen. Without looking at Toto's face, you experimentally rolled your hips over his. He quickly moved his hand to the back of your neck, where he gave you a warning squeeze, but your brattiness won, so instead of behaving, you slowly moved your hands down in between your bodies and started gently pulling out his shirt from his trousers. When there was enough space to slither under the material, you did just that and ran your fingernails over his stomach. And that was enough for him.

He grabbed you stronger by your neck and pushed you from his lap to the floor, so you were kneeling in between his legs.

- Keep. Your hands. To yourself. - he growled, covering the microphone in his phone with his hand and you pouted in response. You wanted to touch him, to have his skin rubbing against yours, but instead, he was mean and refused to give you that. Well, maybe if you asked nicely for it, he would be more lenient, but now... Now you couldn't do anything with your hands.

But he didn't say anything about other parts of your body... With an almost theatrical flair, you moved your hands behind your back, where you crossed your wrists, indicating that you were planning on following the rule he just established. You remained still for a good moment, yet again lulling him into a false sense of security, and when you realized he was about to make a longer comment about something he heard on the other side of the line, you finally made your move.

Still kneeling in between his legs, you shifted up and forward, so your face was getting closer to his crotch, but he didn't stop you, even though he definitely could. Instead, he just raised his eyebrow, curious about how you will proceed. With your teeth, you grabbed the thick leather of his belt and with very small moves at first, you started pulling it out of the buckle. It took you a good minute to achieve that, but you did it without breaking a rule, so it was worth it. And if by keeping your hands to yourself, you rubbed even more against the material of his trousers with your cheeks and chin... Well... You were just abiding by his words.

With a smug smile, you finally pulled the leather out of the metal bar, but there was still a long way ahead of you, and you could already feel him growing because of the additional stimulation. Now it was time to pull the prong out of the hole it was nested in. You knew it would be much harder, so you adjusted your position a little and moved even closer, sliding your head in such a way that the freed part of the belt was resting on your cheek, giving you more access. You tried to dislodge the prong with your tongue, but there was too much pressure on it and even though you could do wonderful things with your tongue, it wasn't strong enough to completely unbuckle the belt, so you tried again, this time with your teeth, but there was not enough space for you to properly grab that stubborn spike. You huffed with annoyance and retreated for a moment, trying to come up with the best strategy.

Eventually, you got as close as possible to the buckle and grabbed the leather there with your teeth and pulled; it put more pressure around his waist, but less on the prong, to the point, that when you angled it correctly, you were able to dislodge the spike with your nose. You instantly let go of the belt, grabbed the prong with your teeth, and started pulling, eventually freeing the belt from the buckle. You would lie if you said that you weren't pleased with yourself, but you were far from done.

When you looked up to see his reaction, there was a very tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, which meant that he was enjoying your struggles and desperation, so you dove right back in, this time giving your full attention to the button. You grabbed the material just next to it with your teeth and tried to pull it back on an angle to see if the button would be able to slip out on its own, but unfortunately, it didn't, so you pulled in the other direction, putting your tongue to good use. It took you a few tries, but eventually, you were able to push the button through and get to the zipper, which was the easiest part of the whole challenge.

With your teeth you moved the now redundant material down and to the sides, exposing his pants, but you didn't remove it right away. Instead, you rubbed your cheeks over it, exposing a small wet patch of precum, over which you almost immediately closed your mouth, and started sucking, not caring that you were soaking his underwear. You chased his faint taste for over a minute, feeling him grow and harden under his pants, until the band was no longer flush with his abdomen, which almost instantly made you grin, but you didn't move it just yet. Instead, you traveled with your mouth down his shaft, until you got to the base. With the material already stretched around his length, it was hard to close your mouth around his balls, but after some maneuvering with your tongue, you were able to do so, and you started running your tongue over them, soaking the thin cotton even more.

You chose this moment to look up again... Toto was lazily leaning back on the sofa, resting his head on the pillows. Even from this angle, you were able to tell that his lips were parted, and his breathing was much shallower than it was around fifteen minutes ago, but he still had full control over his reactions. His voice was steady, his thoughts were clear, and he was simply enjoying the ride you were taking him on. So, you slowly moved back up, grabbed the edge of the material with your teeth, and pulled it down, fully exposing his cock.

Only now he reacted. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, and with both hands started gathering your hair into a ponytail, which he tied with a hairband that was permanently on his wrist just for this reason. He loved getting you messy, but he also knew that you hated when your hair was sticking to your face, so he was happy to compromise if that meant more blowjobs. With an innocent smile, he ran his thumb around your mouth, gathering the excess saliva you managed to smear, brought his finger to his lips, and licked it clean without breaking eye contact. You truly didn't know how the hell he managed to stay so collected, composed, and able to carry a conversation about the aerodynamics of the front wing, and you just knew it would take a while, so there was no reason for you to hurry.

His pretty dark pink tip was almost begging you to close your lips around it and lick a drop of precum that already managed to gather on the top since you freed him, but instead of focusing on it, you placed a row of wet, sloppy kisses down the whole length until you reached the balls again. This time without any barrier, taking care of them was easy. With his cock pressed against your cheek, you focused on each one individually gently taking them in your mouth and slowly running your flattened tongue over them. You took your time carefully licking them, softly sucking, running your pointed tongue in the especially sensitive places. You even lifted them with your nose at one point and sucked on that soft spot just underneath. But as much as you loved playing with them, they weren't the main attraction, so you gave a few long licks from the base back to the tip, where you gathered the precum with your tongue and swallowed those few drops, enjoying the slightly salty and sweet taste.

With your hands still behind your back, you loosely closed your mouth around the head. Without using much pressure, you ran your tongue over the tip, trying to scoop as much of the white fluid as you could, and only when there was nothing left, you started sucking. Gently at first, but soon it wasn't enough, so you closed your lips tighter and ran your tongue around the whole head in chase of his taste, flicking a few times on that specific sensitive spot. Careful not to accidentally scratch him with your teeth, you started moving a little bit lower, but not much; you wanted to have some fun too, after all. You could easily get him off much quicker, but that was not the point of this whole ordeal. It was about finding fun and pleasure within the rules. Well... Maybe pushing them just a little bit...

You let your saliva run down his shaft, but you quickly followed and smeared it around, so your lips could slide easier up and down when you eventually decided that it was time for that. But for now, you came back up and let him slip out of your mouth for a moment, allowing the tip to catch on your lower lip and roll it down a little. And when you looked further up, the head of his cock slid over your chin. You couldn't help but smile when you saw the way he was looking at you, because there was no more powerful feeling than the knowledge you were being desired by the person your whole heart belonged to.

Without breaking eye contact you gave a few short licks under the tip, tracing the edge of the head with your pointed tongue and then you finally dove down. You let his cock slide down your tongue only closing your lips around it in about half of the length. As much as you wanted to swallow it whole in one go, you knew your skills well enough to know that you still needed some preparation, especially without your hands acting as a buffer as you were getting more comfortable with him deeper. So, for now, you took your sweet time giving him a slow and sloppy blowjob, careful not to put too much pressure, because you didn't want your playtime to end too early.

You knew Toto loved getting you messy, so besides taking him as deep as you currently could, you were also placing rows of wet kisses down his length letting the top part of his shaft smear your own saliva mixed with his precum around your mouth, cheeks, and chin. You knew you must have been a sight like that... With pure desperation and want in your beautiful doe eyes, face glistening from the wetness of your own doing, lips stretched around his girth and around three-quarters of his length buried in your throat. He just couldn't help himself and put his big hand on the back of your head. His touch made you inhale sharply, which with his cock breaching your throat made you choke, so you quickly retreated and gasped for air; you were just hoping that the microphone in his phone wasn't sensitive enough to catch it, because up until now, you managed to keep all the noises to the minimum.

There were strings of drool connecting your lower lip to the tip of his cock, and you followed them, catching everything on your tongue and diving back in. This time you were prepared for his hand guiding you deeper than you would have gone on your own, so you timed your breathing accordingly, but then he pushed your head harder until your nose was smushed against his abdomen, and he kept you there. At first, you didn't mind, but with every passing second your heart started beating faster, because you realized that it was only a matter of time before you start to gag. You did your best to hold your breath for as long as possible. The tears slowly gathered in your eyes while you wordlessly begged him to let you go up for air, but he continued the conversation as if you weren't getting lightheaded with his dick completely sheathed in your throat.

You were losing a battle with your own body, but you still didn't use your safety gesture, having complete trust that he wouldn't put you in any true danger. But eventually, your body lost and gasped for air. Only there was a foreign object blocking your airways, so you immediately started choking and gagging, producing a river of saliva that ran down your chin and soaked in the material of his trousers. After about five seconds of this torture, he pulled on your head roughly and when you looked at him all messed up, your face read, tears streaming from your eyes and covered in your own drool, he just smirked and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

And just for a second, you hated yourself for how your body was reacting, because now not only your face was wet. You groaned and nodded, answering the unasked question. In response, he pointed his chin towards his foot, glanced at it for a very short moment, and you understood immediately what he meant, so you shimmied closer until you were able to grind on that place where his ankle met his shin, and when you rolled your hips for the first time, you just couldn't stop the breathy moan that left your mouth.

Instead of scolding you, he just guided you toward his cock again to silence you. This time he let you keep control over the tempo because you already got what he wanted from the previous interaction, but he didn't move his hand from your head; its heavy weight was weirdly giving you comfort. This time muscle memory took over and you instinctively relaxed your jaw and throat when slowly taking him deeper, but you were too horny and too greedy to toy with him, so you quickly picked up speed. It took you a good minute to find a good rhythm between moving your head and grinding your hips, but when you did, you started moving even quicker, not even realizing that Toto ended his phone call and threw his head back, fully enjoying what you were doing. Your hands were still behind your back, which he secretly admired and cataloged in his head for future use.

You were so focused on chasing your own release, that you lost your balance for a second, which resulted in you gagging again, but you were so close that you didn't care and allowed your throat to spasm around his cock and buried your face in his pubic hair, now focusing only on grinding your hips in erratic movements. You were so desperate to cum that you didn't care that you couldn't breathe and that you were in pain, so when Toto grabbed you roughly by the hair and pulled you back, you cried out loud, because you wanted... no, needed that to cum. You wanted to protest, to argue that you were a good girl, that you followed instructions just so he could let you finish with your mouth closed around his beautiful cock, but before you managed to say a word, you felt the first load of his cum landing on your cheek. And then another... And another. Until almost your whole face was painted with his sticky, warm release.

You didn't realize that you closed your eyes, so completely lost this near the edge so you yelped in surprise when he angled his foot up, putting more pressure on your clit, and you resumed grinding almost instantly, now focusing only on chasing your own orgasm. You didn't even know when, but you wrapped your arms around his leg as you were helplessly humping it like an animal in heat, without a drop of care about what others would think if they saw you like that. Because all that mattered was what Toto thought, and the adoration in his eyes when you were so broken and vulnerable, with all the inhibition thrown out the window told you everything you needed to know.

He leaned down and started gathering his own cum from your face with his tongue, and when he got enough, his hand traveled from the back of your head to your throat, where he put pressure on your artery, cutting the supply of oxygenated blood to your brain. He didn't have to tell you to open your mouth, because you were breathing heavily so close to orgasm, so he was able to latch onto them and through a sloppy kiss, feed you the first portion of his load, but you barely registered the familiar taste. He didn't even wait for you to swallow before he went back to gather more. And then again. Until there was nothing left on your face, and you were able to look at him without fear of cum dripping into your eyes. Your pupils were blown wide open from the arousal and the lack of oxygen; you were so close... You just needed...

- You can cum... - he said just as he released the grip on your throat, allowing a fresh wave of oxygen to flood and overload your brain. You came almost immediately after he said those words. Your eyes rolled back into your skull when a wave of intense pleasure rushed through your body and pulled you under the surface, but your hips rolled a few more times without your control until you drenched Toto's food and the carpet underneath with your release. His low chuckle reached you in the darkness of the semi-consciousness you were currently wrapped in. Your still twitching body was leaning on his leg, with your arms tightly wrapped around his knee, your torso bent and your head resting on his clothed thigh. You were breathing heavily, and you had to close your eyes again, still processing what just happened.

The first thing you consciously registered was a familiar, slightly salty taste on your tongue and a faint smile crawled onto your lips, while you gently rubbed your cheek over the material of his trousers, grounding yourself back in reality. And when you eventually did, you looked up at the love of your life with a silent request in your eyes. You didn't have to say anything more, because just as you relaxed your arms and reached for him, he was already reaching to pull you up onto his lap, not caring about the mess you made from his clothes, the couch, and the carpet. In the end, it didn't matter, it all could be cleaned or replaced, but you... There was not a chance there was another creature in this world so perfectly made for him.

You rested your head on his chest, right under his chin, while his hands were tracing unrecognizable shapes over your body. Eventually, your breathing calmed down and you could no longer feel your heartbeat in the tiniest parts of your body, so you closed your eyes just for a moment, allowing yourself to enjoy his closeness, his touch, his scent, which was what kept you awake in the first place. So, when that need was satisfied, it wasn't long before your exhausted and pushed to an extreme body drifted right back to sleep, in the environment your mind considered as the safest in the world.

Your consciousness resurfaced just once, when no part of him was touching you, and you groaned in protest, slowly realizing that he carried you back to bed and laid you in it.

- Don't leave me... - you whispered so quietly, that in your still fogged-up mind, you weren't sure if he heard it. But the shifting weight on the mattress behind you told you that he did.

- Never... - he placed a soft kiss right behind your ear, as he got closer, so his now naked torso pressed against your back, and his arms wrapped tightly around you. - I love you. - you heard just before you drifted away again, but it was too late for you to reply.

Normally he wouldn't be caught dead in bed this late in the morning, but it was what you required, and he would always take care of you in any and every way you needed, no matter how twisted or soft.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Toto Wolff fanfiction #Toto Wolff smut #Toto Wolff x reader #🖤#🧸#🥪#😛#🔥

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