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songsofadelaide · 2 months

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cw: f!reader, no curses high school au, fluff and slice of life — in which you confess your feelings to your long-time crush Satoru, the handsome life of the party who also happens to be in the same friend group as you. You're both pretty stupid in love, too.

Confessing your feelings to your crush on Valentine's Day is perhaps the most cliche thing to ever cross your mind, but you decided: let's make it ironic and actually mean it. Life is short and high school is even shorter. And with your graduation slowly approaching, you figured fuck it, what's the worst that could happen, right?

Oh, you thought of all the ways this confession could backfire on you. You and Satoru were friends, after all. Confessing to a stranger was probably better—

Wait, why would you think that confessing to a stranger was any better? You must have really lost it in all of the hysteria surrounding the fast-approaching commercialised holiday...

...And you've undoubtedly lost it even more now that Shoko pointed out it was already February 13. Your best friend found your panic amusing, but not anymore when you were pulling her along to the nearest grocery store after classes.

"Wait a sec! Why're you dragging me along with you?"

"Sho-chan, aren't you going to get any chocolate for Hime-chan?!"

"Hgk— W-Well, I..."

"I thought so! No complaining!"

Shoko was quickly and easily sold on the thought of seeing her girlfriend's elated expression after having received chocolate from her, and she was even quicker to agree with you when you asked her for help in baking the sweets.

"I'm a little worried about confessing to Toru, Sho-chan. What if I make things awkward around us? This could go wrong in so many ways—"

"Oh, geez, you and your doomsday syndrome. Have you ever thought of all the ways it could go right?"

When Valentine's Day came the following morning, you happily handed your friends each a box of Meiji Apollo Strawberry Chocolate, Shoko following suit. While Suguru and Kento gave you a calm 'thanks for the chocolate', Satoru and Yu were already contentedly munching on the candy even though the day was just starting.

A steady stream of girls have come up to your friends with sweets in their hands, with Suguru receiving a bit more than everyone else. Still, their school bags were filled to the brim with chocolates and their pockets too, without a doubt, with scented letters of adoration and confessions. The whole thing was outrageously cliche and almost funny to you until you remembered that you were just about to confess yourself.

It was under the shade of the blooming cherry blossoms outside your school, just a few paces away from the rest of your warm and boisterous crowd of friends when you pulled Satoru by the sleeve and fished out the carefully wrapped bear-shaped cookies from your bag. "This is for you, Toru."

"Huh? But I already got your chocolate from earlier..." He replied with a rather confused look on his face.

He was so handsome that it hurt. How was it that he made your heart physically clench in your chest when his bewildered expression softened into a smile?

"Yeah, I know, b-but this is..." You stammered at him as he tenderly took the pack from your hands, admiring how adorable the animal-shaped cookies were from the outside and the curl of the silk ribbon that tied everything together. He didn't miss the slight tremble from you when your fingertips brushed ever so slightly.

"Is this... what I think it is?" Satoru asked, his smile as bright as a beam of sunlight filtering through the rosy foliage overhead.

"Y—" You started, only for you to bite your lip and stomp away from him in complete embarrassment, trying to catch up to Shoko or Suguru to hide in their shadows or something— anything. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew I'd get teased for it. I—

"Hey, come back here! I'm not gonna wait for White Day to come to respond to your feelings!" He hurriedly grabbed you by the hand before you could run any further. "Don't you wanna hear what I have to say?"

"I-I didn't think I'd get this far!" You stammered at him once more. "I know I told myself I'm ready for rejection but th-this is all a huge mistake! I should have known I'd make everything awkward with this—"

"I-I was totally happy I got friendship chocolate from you! I mean, you considered me that important! I was already over the moon!" He shot right back at you. "B-But then I get... this!"

Satoru raised the little bag of treats he received from you, a blush rising from his neck as he was just as embarrassed as you. "This is h... honmei chocolate, right?"

"I-It is! Just like every other chocolate in your bag," you replied to him, but his grip around your wrist tightened even further.

"That doesn't matter! Yours is..."

A thousand thoughts raced through your head as you stood there, like time and everything else around you were in suspended animation and some kind of deep freeze. But it wasn't cold. No, not at all, not when Satoru's grip on you was burning hot.

Though his face to the tips of his ears were bright red, he still managed to proudly burst out just how much he appreciated your gesture. "You baked these yourself, right? I like these the most!"

"Y-You haven't even tried them!..." You replied. "A-And you don't have to be so nice to me, Toru! You... You can tell me upfront if you don't—"

"Wh-What do you mean by that? Hey, have you even looked at me?!"

You were so wrapped up in your own embarrassment that you didn't even notice how flushed he was and all you could retort was, "Why are you all red, Toru?!"

His pretty blue eyes were wide and sparkling with surprise at your exclamation and he couldn't help but burst into laughter— his low, hearty laughter that always pulled at your heart so— at how utterly stupid you both were now that everything was out in the open.

"Okay, okay, I think that's... That's everything," Satoru stated as he managed to settle down the excitement bubbling in his chest. "I like you too."

"Y... You do?"

"Yeah, I like you so much that I'd say it outright, even though I didn't hear from you at all," he nodded at you. "At least let me hear you say it!"

"Are you for real?! It's too embarrassing!"

Funny how you were saying that after giving him those cookies with the intention of letting him know how you felt about him.

He pouted at you like a teary-eyed dog denied his treats. A fluff, majestic, absolutely adorable Great Pyrenees. "Please?"

And when you looked down at your hands, his fingers were laced with yours. Like a dream. A dream come true. The deepest and innermost breathings of your heart made manifest.

Toru likes me.

So why the hell were you denying this man such a simple request?

"I like you, Toru. A lot."

Another smile lit his face, calm, sweet, and mirthful.

Now far away from you were Shoko and Suguru, both of them trying their best to be careful so you wouldn't notice their mutual chuckling.

"They're so stupid that it's almost cute," she remarked. "And Gojo used his brain for once. Today's been productive."

"Still, how they managed to be so oblivious and not notice how they felt for each other is beyond me," he stated with a laugh. "Then again, it's natural for friends to care for each other. I suppose not much will change even though they're dating and all. They can still do all the stuff we usually do, except they can already kiss."

"No doubt she's been waiting a looong time to do that," Shoko said as she unwrapped a lollipop and offered another to her friend. Another low chuckle escaped Suguru's lips as he accepted the sweet.

"She's not the only one."

✦ From Here to There — Masterlist ✦

✦ Valentine's Day Playlist ✦

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#reader insert #jujutsu kaisen #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

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deputyrook · 6 months

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Impressions- 3/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Weren't you supposed to be afraid?)

Word count: 4581

WARNINGS: Child abuse, attempted infanticide, corruption, stockholm syndrome, drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror & violence.

You dream about the bathroom again.

Your mother is there, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair tied back. It's your childhood home, the bathroom on the second floor just beyond the top of the stairway, painted a garish teal that was popular in the late 70s.

You think you are four years old. Your mother is chattering to you as she fills the tub. She's telling you that she's sorry, but it has to be done- that you're sensitive just like her, she can tell, and that this life will ruin you.

She has to save you from it. You deserve better than this, she says to you, smoothing down your hair with wet hands. Life is too bad, too hard. Too filled with pain and bad people. You're not like them.

The water is cold, and dark. The bathtub seems to expand as you're held underwater- you open your eyes, and they burn. Blurry shapes pass across your vision. The darkness seems to go on forever.

(You were dead for three minutes, the doctors said, before they were able to resuscitate you.)

Somewhere in the haze of the dream, you zoom out to a bird's eye view, and the bathroom starts to decay. You see the top of the toilet crack, the mirror shatter and fall. A chain is attached to the radiator, snaking around your ankle. The light flickers. There is a puddle of blood in the centre of the room.

When you wake up, you are drenched in sweat.

You don't text Mark Hoffman about that dream, instead groggily taking a handful of painkillers to ensure a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

It had only been after your near death experience that you'd started getting flashes, the images and emotions that your childhood friends didn't. At the time, the doctors chalked up to trauma. Later, you learned to keep it quiet.

Maybe, somewhere in the world- wherever she was now- your mother had woken up after the same dream. You are just about the same age now as she was then, and when you look in the mirror, you see the same tired eyes.

She was right about one thing, you think, your recent visions coming back to you. Life is full of pain.

As you lay back down, your cat Prawn crawls up beside you and starts purring relentlessly. He shoves his face against yours, like he can tell you're feeling down. He smooshes against you, and despite yourself you chuckle, petting him softly.

The last thing you wonder before you fall asleep is what your mother would think of what you're doing now. She may have been right about life, but she was wrong about you.

You are like them. Maybe worse.

---

"What do you mean, you haven't had any visions since yesterday morning?" Mark asks as he drives, gloved hands gripping the wheel so tightly that you're surprised he doesn't leave a permanent indent on it.

"I took some painkillers yesterday. They block out the noise, at least for a bit," you answer, sparing a look over at him, "I wanted to be a normal human being for a while."

He shakes his head in what appears to be annoyance, distaste or disappointment- you can't tell which.

"Quit complaining," He says, without even a hint of sympathy. You wonder if sympathy is an emotion he knows how to feel, "Pills aren't going to make you feel normal."

With your senses dulled, you feel cut-off from the world around you, and by extension, Mark Hoffman. Without the bleed of other people's emotions, thoughts, and memories into your mind, you feel more independent, more a person. It comes at the cost of your intuition, but at least you can tell a bit more clearly where Jigsaw ends and you begin.

Still, somewhere along the way, you stopped flinching every time Mark Hoffman looked at you. It's incredible, what the human mind can normalize. How it can change fear to thrill to anticipation.

"It'll come back, it always does. Pretty soon, if my timing is right," You shoot Mark a look, "Wouldn't want to be useless to you."

He sneaks a glance back at you. "I'm sure I could find a use for you."

For a second, it feels like the energy in the car changes. With that insinuation, there's a tension between you that becomes obvious. The air in the car feels tight.

It feels dangerous. Your cheeks flush, and you don't exactly know how to respond to that, so you drum your fingers on your thigh and look out the window.

"It's been affecting me," you admit, finally, changing the subject. "I've been connected to this web of the worst of humanity. I needed a break."

Mark scoffs. "You're telling me that shutting your eyes and pretending it's not happening is going to make you feel better?"

"A little," you lie, before you sigh and stretch. "Maybe when my intuition comes back, I should just go to a dog park, close my eyes, and pet all the dogs."

"You get any hits on the dogs being mistreated, you can send the owners my way," Mark replies, deadpan.

You actually laugh out loud at that, mostly out of surprise. Mark still looks serious- he really doesn't smile all that often. Was that a joke? Probably not entirely, but either way, you can't help but smile as you shake your head at his audacity.

Your suspicion that Mark is at least somewhat serious is confirmed when he continues.

"We could do a lot of good work like that," Mark adds quietly after a moment, "You pick them. I test them. You sense the threats, I deal with them from the inside. A pretty fucking effective team, if you ask me."

"Is that what you want? Us to murder people together?" You ask, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Yeah," Mark replies simply, seriously. A shiver runs across your skin, and at that single word, your stomach drops. It seems too real a possibility, suddenly. That you could actually do it. That you would actually do it. That you could do it, together, and not get caught.

"Did you forget that I'm here under duress?" You reply uncomfortably. The words sound like a lie even to you as they leave your mouth.

"Really? I don't see a gun to your head." He points out. You shuffle in your seat, and pick at a seam on your jeans. He's right, and the guilt of it hits you square in the chest.

What are you doing here, if it's not because you've been forced to be? The answer just makes you feel more guilty, rising like bile in your throat.

You've enjoyed being needed. He's dangerous, and he's taking you seriously, bringing you along. He needs you, he wants you here.

You've been having fun.

He'd kill you in a second if you threatened him, without an ounce of regret. You still like him. Are you insane? Suicidal?

Fuck. It hurts your head. It takes every image you've ever had of yourself and crumples it into a little paper ball. And sets it on fire. You don't even know who you are anymore.

"How would Jigsaw number one feel about that?" You ask instead, trying to hide the sudden waves of turmoil that crash through you, making you feel sea-sick and confused.

"Pretty soon, it won't matter," Mark's voice is dark, and he looks straight ahead at the road as he drives. Once again, you have no idea where he's taking you, but you've been driven well outside of the city centre. The area is dilapidated, and you pass lawn after lawn filled with detritus and garbage.

It didn't even occur to you to try to remember the route to get here.

"I wasn't sure about it at first either," Mark murmurs after a while, with a cruel twist of the corner of his mouth, "Then I realized. They have a real chance to get out alive. Maybe they learn their lesson. Maybe they don't. Well, then, we can just put them back into the games until they figure it out, or they die. It's housekeeping."

"That's fucked up. These are people you're talking about. With their own lives and hopes and dreams," Is it him you're trying to convince, or yourself? Maybe you're pushing your luck, arguing with him as much as you are. It's weightless, regardless. Here you are, tagging along, no gun in sight.

"Nah. You said it yourself- the worst of humanity. Fuck 'em." Mark pulls into a long driveway of an old abandoned school building, driving his car around the back and parking in the grass, out of sight from the road. You can see broken windows, glass scattered around the entrances, and brick walls splashed with colourful graffiti.

He turns off the engine of his car, and then turns fully to you.

"Come on. You wanna find out what you really think?"

Mark has a key to the back door, and the rusted lock opens with an imposing click. Even with the key, it feels like you shouldn't be here. A sense of foreboding edges your awareness, and you can tell the medication is starting to wear off by how deeply you're unsettled in this atmosphere. You seem to be entering through an administration sector of small back offices.

The building smells of mildew and grease, of rust and water damage. As he enters the hallway, Hoffman flips a series of switches just to the left of the entry, which light the narrow back hallways in an uncanny florescence. If not for the light, you would have thought this place was abandoned.

Something bad has happened here, or is happening here.

"Follow me," he murmurs, and with confident strides, he leads you through the administration section and out into the main hallway of the school. You trail behind him quietly, wondering if you would be able to navigate your way out of this building again if you were left here.

He takes you up an old metal stairway, and then into a large room which you can tell used to be a library. Compared to the other parts of the building you've seen, this room is much better kept, clear of rubble and debris. Someone's taken the time to clear it out, at least mostly. Old bookshelves stand empty, and a series of round tables in the room now hold various pieces of equipment.

It's been turned into a workshop, you realize.

Blueprints are spread across the tables, along with a number of cassette tapes and what appears to be recording equipment. A large black television is set up on a TV cart near the front of the room, with wires connecting to a receiver of some kind.

Resting on one of the tables, contrasting so severely with the rest of the equipment on it, there's an old, faded teddy bear.

"See that?" Mark says, pointing to the toy. "I wanna know what kind of a read you get on it."

"Why do I feel like this isn't going to be fun?" You murmur anxiously, but you do as he instructs, approaching the table and picking up the bear. Turning it over in your hands, you close your eyes, and allow the feelings to creep up onto you.

You were right. Something bad happened here.

There was a little boy, no older than six, you think, who had held onto the bear so tightly. You feel his confusion, more than anything else at first. What had he done wrong? Why was his teacher so angry?

Why did it hurt so much?

Pain flashes through you, bright and sharp, from your elbow to your shoulder. You cringe, still holding the bear, trying to piece together what had happened to the boy. You can feel his fear, pure and unrestrained, making you shake.

"Got it?" Mark asks, and you realize he's come up to stand right behind you. He leans over you, his chest nearly touching your back, and speaks low, directly into your ear. It makes you shiver for a different reason. "Now, open your eyes. Watch."

Holding up a remote beside you, you open your eyes to watch as he clicks on the television with it. It crackles to life, and it takes you a second before you register what you're looking at, through the static of what appears to be a live feed.

A man that you would guess is in his mid-60's is restrained to a chair in an abandoned classroom, each of his arms fastened into metal contraptions. Something large is attached to the back of the chair, almost looking like an industrial turtle shell.

"Holy shit," you breathe, your eyes going wide. You drop the teddy bear in shock at what you're seeing, as the man begins to yell for help and writhe in the chair, trying to free his arms

"No, hold onto it," Mark says into your ear, reaching around you. Placing his hands on top of yours, he guides your touch back to the bear, his chest now fully flush against your back.

As you touch the toy again, the impressions come back, stronger this time. Not just the boy, but others as well. Left alone, trapped somewhere, difficult to breathe- suffocating in darkness. Where is my mom, I want my mom-

Anger begins to churn inside of you, so thick and strong it sickens you. You grit your teeth as you stare at the screen.

"Hello, Martin," A distorted voice says. Jigsaw. You can't see the TV from the camera's vantage point, but you can see the person in the chair whip his head toward the sound. "I want to play a game."

The man on the screen whimpers. "No, no, no," he moans.

"You worked at this school for almost three decades before they finally fired you. There were never any charges laid. But there were rumours for years about how you took out your rage on those who couldn't fight back."

You can feel the tears starting to well in your eyes as you stare up at the screen, transfixed in horror. The kids weep and scream in your mind like ghosts, begging to tell you how they suffered.

"You called it your isolation room. A closet hideaway, barely larger than a cardboard box. How many children did you force to stay there, curled up and injured for hours, for the sake of discipline?"

"It was a mistake!" The man yells out, voice breaking, "Please, I'm sorry, I was doing my best-"

"You have two minutes to press down on the peddles under your feet. Doing so will tear away the top layer of skin from your hands, degloving them. Keep your feet pressed down until the process is finished. Once your hands have been degloved, you will be able to pull them from the machine and press the buttons releasing you from the chair."

The man wails in misery. Mark Hoffman rests his chin on your shoulder, and you can feel his eyes watching the footage with you, so intently. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his large, rough hands over yours. The terror and anguish of the children, the shrieking of the man in the trap. It makes you dizzy.

"If you fail to do so before the time runs out, spikes will emerge from the contraption on your back, impaling you. Now we will see how disciplined you are."

The man gasps, and then, as the timer begins to tick down, begins to scream in earnest. You watch as he presses his foot down on the pedal, feeling the reverberation of his panic bounce back onto you.

"I can't do this," you say, squeezing your eyes shut, your nails digging into the fabric of the toy. Your head pounds with the echoes of the children crying, with their shame and embarrassment and panic, and with the howling screams of the man on the screen. It all layers, in a cacophonous symphony of violence and horror that drowns out all other thought.

"It's too much, it's so loud. I can't think, I- I need to shut it out." With one hand letting go of the toy, you dig into your jacket pocket, fishing for your prescription bottle.

"No, no," Mark snaps. He grabs your wrist, tight, and snatches the bottle of painkillers. "No more fucking pills. Watch."

"It's too much," you whisper, wincing. Your mind screams, unable to make sense of all of the information it's taking in. You need to think about this, but all you can do is feel, overstimulated and shaking-

"Detective. I don't think you've introduced me to your friend."

The dry voice cuts through everything else. You realize the screaming has stopped. When you open your eyes again, you see someone has paused the feed on the television.

It isn't live.

Mark freezes, his body immediately going stiff behind you. Although you've never heard this voice before, you recognize it all the same. You drop the teddy bear, as Mark removes his hand from your wrist and steps back away from you. The removal of the warmth of his body leaves yours feeling colder than before.

"Uh oh. You're in trouble," A second voice chimes in, sing-song and clearly elated that you've been caught here, together.

You're hoping Mark will say something on your behalf, but he doesn't. Your head pounds, and your skin feels almost too-sensitive, but if your intuition has ever told you anything, it's that this is not the time to fall apart.

So you turn, looking at the source voices, and muster up all of the courage you can. You are proud that your voice wavers only a little.

"Um. Hello. Jigsaw, and... Amanda Young, I assume." You cast a furtive glance at Mark, who finally seems to have recovered and composed himself, standing up straighter.

John Kramer sits in a wheelchair, wearing a long black and red robe that trails on the ground. Amanda stands behind him with her hands on the handles of the wheelchair, leaning her weight on it

Nothing about John Kramer suggests that he is weak or feeble to you, despite his thin frame and poor health. Instead, you sense a chessmaster, and a conqueror sits before you, a King in a throne. You get the image of a strategist who has been leading his troops through a war, claiming victory after victory through careful battlefield positioning.

"I can explain," Mark says slowly, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Oh, I'm listening," Kramer replies, tilting his head slightly and watching you carefully. His tone is curious and measured, and you sense that he's already re-arranging his plans in his mind, re-evaluating them and trying to determine how you're going to affect things. If he's angry with Hoffman, you can't tell.

"I wanted to test them myself, before I told you, in case it ended up being a waste of time," Hoffman says, shooting a glance at you, "I've never met someone so good at reading people. Except maybe you."

"You've got to be kidding," Amanda says, nearly laughing, "So you took them here, and showed them the footage from our last game? I knew you were an idiot, but this is really next level."

"We already abandoned this place as a workshop," Mark gestures to the TV, sounding irritated, "I sure as hell wasn't going to leave any evidence lying around after I took them home. Place would have been cleared out by tomorrow morning."

"And if they, oh, you know- reported you? Told someone?" Amanda asks. Mark looks like he's about to argue back at her, but John holds up a hand.

"I know you're smart enough not to take unnecessary risks, especially with your identity. But you should have brought this to my attention immediately," John says to Mark. Hoffman actually grimaces, like a kid being scolded.

John turns his attention to you, in cold and calculating interest, "What do you have to say?"

Cherish your life, the wind whispers in your ear. Right now, your life felt pretty fucking cherished, in the it-is-literally-on-the-line sense.

"I guessed that Detective Hoffman was one of your accomplices a few weeks ago," You answer, hoping that you're not going to talk yourself into a corner, "Not that I had any proof, but...he's been keeping a close eye on me, since then."

"And why haven't you gone to the police?" John asks, critical. The big question. Something urges you to just lay all of your cards out on the table.

"I don't... know, to be honest. Sometimes, things just come to me. Pieces of information, like drops of rain before a storm," John looks at you in interest, waiting silently, so you continue. "I feel like... the first one was personal, right? Like tiger stripes across the face, rough, rudimentary, righteous. He took something from you. Like the sun going out," You look at Mark. "The two of you are similar, like that."

Amanda and John stare at you, and you're worried you've said too much. Maybe you shouldn't have called his engineering rudimentary. You clear your throat, and shuffle your weight from one foot to the other.

"Interesting," Jigsaw remains expressionless, tone dispassionate. He looks at Mark's hand, still clenched around your prescription bottle, "...And the pills?"

You swallow. "Dampeners," you answer simply. He nods, like he understands, somehow. Amanda snaps her attention from you, to Mark, to John, like she can't believe what's happening. She makes a noise of clear protest.

"Come here, for a moment," Jigsaw says. You very much do not want to do that, but with Amanda glowering at you, you don't feel like you have much of a choice.

You walk over until you stand in front of him, heart hammering in your chest. With a hand, he beckons you to lean down, closer. Amanda looks just about ready to leap over his chair and strangle you.

As you lean in closer, you feel a prick on your neck. You look down to see John holding a needle, sticking it into your skin. He pushes an unknown liquid into your body.

"Oh," you say simply. Should have seen that coming.

The room goes dark.

---

When you wake up, you have gone from being in a bad situation to a much, much worse situation.

Somehow, you can sense that you were unconscious for a very long time. Now, though, you are wide awake, with adrenaline beginning to flood your body. Good- you're going to need it.

The first thing you register is that your eyes are very dry. The reason for this is immediately clear: your eyelids are being held open by a metal optician's speculum. You glance around your dark surroundings frantically in silent terror, unable to move your head. Some kind of a warehouse? No- a gymnasium. The school.

You can't move your body, either. You seem to be suspended in the air- how high up, you can't say- with your arms and legs locked into some kind of device. The height makes you nervous enough that you don't try to squirm.

Fuck. Stay calm. This is a Jigsaw game, which means there's a way out of it.

As you look back up above you, you can just make out through the darkness large jug of something positioned directly over your head. You catch the scent of something pungent and acidic.

It is becoming significantly harder to stay calm.

Below you, off to the side of the room, a television crackles to life.

"Hello," Jigsaw's voice says, addressing you by name, "I want to play a game." You can't see him, but you can imagine the puppet. Is the voice John's, Mark's or Amanda's through that modulation? You can't tell.

"You have been given a gift. A unique way of seeing the world. But you turn reject this strength. You silence it with painkillers, living in a wilful ignorance when you could know so much more."

So if it's John, someone has told him more about you. You wiggle your fingers. In each of your hands, there is some kind of device with a switch. Never a good sign.

"In your hands are two switches. By flipping each the switches, a single drop of acid will drop into your eyes, blinding you permanently. If you do not do so within two minutes, the restraints on your arms and legs will release, and you will be dropped in a tub of acid. I assure you, you will not survive."

Whimpering softly, the panic bubbles up in your chest, making it hard for you to catch your breath. It's much more difficult to turn inward and rely on your intuition with your eyes pried open- and maybe that was by design. If you could only shut them for a moment, then maybe your intuition could help you find a different way out of this.

"Will you embrace your gifts permanently by blinding yourself? Or will you die in ignorance? This is your test. Make your choice."

As the timer begins to tick, time seems to slow. You think of your mother's hands, holding you under the water, and the last words she said to you before she attempted to drown you.

Life is full of pain and bad people. She was right about that. You think of the kids from the school, forced to wait alone, curled up in the dark by their teacher. You think of Mark Hoffman, who delighted in the teacher's suffering.

You think of your cat Prawn, curled up by your head, and of the last time you grabbed lunch with Allison.

But she was wrong. Life is worth living, regardless.

You aren't going to fucking die here, alone. Not because of Jigsaw.

You flick the switches in your hands.

True to his word, the last thing you see are two drops of liquid, dripping down from above you into your eyes.

You scream as the acid burns you. You scream and you scream, until your voice breaks and your throat aches. You can smell the horrible scent of the acid burning your eyes, and hear something moving beneath you. A machine powers down, and you're slowly and gently lowered to the ground, no pool of acid waiting to swallow you whole.

When the restraints release your hands and feet, you rip the speculum out of your eyes, moaning in pain as you shut them and clutch at them. You curl into yourself, into a ball on the cold ground, and try not to cry.

And then, as you lie there in the dirt, panting and moaning, your awareness explodes. Your sixth sense replaces your fifth and crystallizes, smoothing out and filling in the gaps.

When you hear feet running to you, you already know whose they are. Detective Mark Hoffman, followed by Allyson Kerry. Detective Rigg isn't far behind.

You don't need to see to know.

"Kerry! Get over here, now!" Mark's voice barks out. You feel him lean in close to you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and holding you to his chest.

"You did it," he murmurs into your ear, only for you to hear, "You fucking did it. I knew you'd win."

You reach out, clinging to him. It still feels comforting. It still feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

---

yes. I accidentally nuked my blog. 🥲 but thank you for the support on this fic series! I would love to hear what you think- comments help me figure out what people are enjoying about the fics and what people want to see more of 💕

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban

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kyriethesquishysquid · 8 months

Text

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

You can find Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Summary: The reader is a military nurse currently employed by Shadow Company. She was sent out with a small team into the middle of nowhere to gain intel on the enemy, her presence only a precaution as it should have been an easy in-and-out mission. Unfortunately for the Shadow team, KorTac had also been working on a lead in the same area. One thing led to another and the reader was forced to watch as her team was slaughtered mercilessly. Rather than kill her as well, she was taken back as a hostage and kept captive by the group's colonel, König.

Word Count: ~8.5K

Rating: Mature (For Smut)

A/N: To preface this story - I’ve never played the storyline of any COD games, nor do I know a damn thing about the military, much less special forces, so there will be inaccuracies galore, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! My take on König is somewhere between the headcanons of him being a ruthless psycho and a shy bean. Also, don’t come at me with complaints of this not being realistic, please. This is fanfic, loves. It doesn’t have to be realistic. Plus, if I was the one captured by this tree of a man and he was interested? Morals and reality be damned. I’m hopping on that train lmfao. Also, I wrote this entire thing in less than 24 hours and was too eager to post it to do a bunch of editing, so please excuse any errors!

Important Details: Occasional use of Y/N. Reader appearance is left vague but is described in little details such as being short (no exact height used), chubby, and with hair at least long enough to be pulled back. This story is essentially porn with plot, so literally over half of this is smut.

TW: Body shaming, violence, and attempted assault from random asshole #1. A few insecurities surrounding weight by the reader. Canon violence toward others by König. Super fast burn, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, Dom/Sub, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, suggested Stockholm syndrome (but really reader is just a touch-starved, thirsty bitch for Gentle!Giant König), pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m a lame monolingual American, no beta we die like the jackass Graves. Crappy Translations:

Ich werde dich mit deinen eigenen Eingeweiden füttern, bevor du diesen Satz beenden kannst! - I will feed you your own intestines before you can finish that sentence!

Maus- Mouse

Süßes mädchen - Sweet girl

Heilige Scheiße/Scheiße - Holy shit/shit

Mein schatz - My darling

Mein Gott - My god

Kleines - Little one

Verdammt, sieh dich an, kleine Maus - Damn, look at you, little mouse.

Oh, du kleine Füchsin! - Oh, you little vixen!

It was probably stupid. Scratch that, you knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the company of the large Austrian man before you. Despite being the one to kidnap you and keep you tied up in this basement-like room for almost a full day now, the conversation had been flowing between you two like you were good friends. Maybe it was the gentle way he was treating you. Maybe it was the fact he’d kept his promises to you thus far. No matter the reason, you knew it was dangerous, this trust growing between you and him, but you were going to lean into it nonetheless.

“Hey, uh, I- I promise I’m not complaining but… why haven’t you, ya know, hurt me yet?” you asked softly.

König let out a heavy sigh, his mask fluttering around his face temptingly before he dropped back into his chair. It was hard to see his eyes from across the room but you were certain he was staring at you nonetheless. His gaze was heavy anytime it was on you, palpable in a way that made goosebumps crawl over your skin.

“You’ve given me no reason to,” he replied after a moment, “And, in all honesty, you weren’t our original target. In fact, it should have been anyone but you.”

You almost asked why, but he was quick to continue his explanation as if he hadn’t even stopped.

“You’re a nurse, ja? A nurse who does not see combat often, according to the intel we’ve been able to gather about your team, and that means you have little to no information we need.”

A warmth crept up your neck as he casually talked about you as if you were nothing of import, essentially a useless captive. It made your heart sting in an odd way.

“Ah… I see,” you hummed quietly.

“So now, we wait until your squadmates come in for the rescue, and then we get what we need from them.”

You managed a little nod but it stopped short when an embarrassingly loud rumble emanated from your stomach. Eyes widening, you nervously glanced his way to see if he’d caught it, only to find him getting to his feet.

“My apologies. You’ve been here quite some time with nothing but water. Let me go grab something for you.”

Before you could argue, he was out in the hallway, instructing one of the guards to step inside and keep an eye on you until he returned. The instant the young brunette stepped into the room, something felt off. Why? You weren’t sure. Maybe it’s just because you’d grown used to the “comfort” of your kidnapper. More than likely though, it was the way he was staring at you.

As you were stewing in your thoughts, trying to figure out your emotions, the man crossed the room and stopped at your feet with a laugh.

“So, you’re the broad the colonel’s been hiding? Interesting.”

The man’s words were spit with pure vile and reeked of danger. You instinctively leaned away when he reached out for your face and the disobedience was quickly rewarded with a hefty smack, tearing a cry of shock from your lips. While the sting was painful, it was nothing worse than you’d experienced before. Unfortunately, you knew he wasn’t going to stop there, the leer in his eyes enough to make your stomach uneasy as he stalked in circles around you like a predator to its prey.

“A little round for my taste, but I can see it. The colonel must have a thing for soft and small. Probably because he’s a fucking mountain. Opposites attract and all that jazz,” he snickered, “Too bad the bastard is too scared to just take what he wants. But don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not a little bitch like him.”

Hearing him talk about König in such a way did weird things to your body. Anger began to rear its head. What kind of person talked about their commanding officer that way? You may not have been a full-blown soldier in the practical sense but you could never imagine speaking filth like that about your superiors.

“Just because you lack the self-control to be a decent human like him doesn’t mean everyone does,” you bit out through a glare, “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last human on earth.”

He paused, eyebrows flying up in surprise, and, for one silly little moment, you’d thought you’d gotten through to him. Then reality struck hard with his fist across your face. A scream escaped your lips as the pain finally registered through the shock, your cheek aching to the heavens.

“Now, see, you just had to go and be a smart ass. And here König talked about how compliant you were. Don’t tell me you got a hardon for the colonel, sweetheart,” he touted with a cackle, “And, for your information, it wasn’t a request. Either you can suck it up and make this easy, or I’ll take what I want either way.”

Before he could do anything more, you tilted your head back and screamed, long and loud, for König. Of course that wasn’t allowed for very long. His second punch cut you off instantly, causing your vision to swim as you cried out again. You could hear him mutter something under his breath and you brought your eyes up only to find him drawing his fist back once more.

“Fuck!”

You braced for impact, tears slipping down your cheeks through your clenched eyes, but the sound of a door crashing open interrupted his assault. The sound of a solid thud and a scream of pain tore your attention to the sudden group piling into the room, then more specifically to your captor-turned-savior pinning your assailant to the floor by one knee on the smaller man’s back, his arms wrenched behind him in a way that looked horrifying. He was snarling words in a mixture of German and English but you weren’t able to make out a single thing as you watched on in awe while he slammed the man’s face repeatedly into the concrete floor.

“You are lucky I don’t kill you now!” König thundered, voice echoing through the room.

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

“Nein! Ich werde dich mit deinen eigenen Eingeweiden füttern, bevor du diesen Satz beenden kannst!”

Shivers crawled up your spine at the ruthless aggression in König’s voice. It was new, unexpected, and you were suddenly even more grateful not to have been on the receiving end of his anger.

“Take him to his room and see to it that he does not leave. I will deal with him later,” König hissed, shoving the now bruised and bloody soldier toward the two at the door.

“Yes, colonel, right away, sir.”

The moment the door closed, he deflated, shoulders slumping as he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath. You watched carefully as he closed the gap between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, maus, are you hurt?”

And instantly, it was like that war-hardened soldier had never existed, replaced once again by the gentleman you’d spent the last few hours with. You shook your head slightly and watched him kneel before you. A little smile twitched up the corners of your lips in amusement as you realized he was still taller on his knees than you were sitting in the chair.

“Nothing that I can’t handle anyway,” you replied quietly, voice trailing off as his hands cupped your face gently.

His touch was tender in ways you hadn’t expected as he shifted your head around, taking in the damage with a sigh. Thankfully, other than a sore and swollen cheek, that asshole hadn’t gotten the chance to do anything more before König had returned.

“Thank you.”

The giant before you froze, looking as surprised as you felt. Had you really just thanked your captor? Face warming, you watched him watch you. You could have taken it back, but not only would that have been weird, it would have been a lie. Because as far as hostage situations went, this was the best one you could imagine, and he had just saved you from one of his own when he could have turned a blind eye. Instead, you waited patiently for him to react.

“Hurting someone defenseless is cowardly,” he muttered lowly.

So the infamously ruthless König had an honor code. Interesting. That explained a lot, really. If it weren’t for the fact you��d seen him kill multiple of your allied Shadows with a brutality unparalleled, you’d think he wasn’t the revered Operator he really was. The silence grew in leaps and bounds, a strange charge in the air between you, until the moment was interrupted by another untimely growl of your stomach.

“Ah, yes, food!”

He grabbed a brown paper bag from beside the door and brought it over only to pause once he was in front of you once more.

Confused, you watched on as his eyes darted around you in obvious thought before you finally broke the silence with a soft, “König?”

As if snapped out of a trance, he rushed over and snagged the black folding chair from across the room just to plop it loudly on the floor at your feet. He quickly took a seat and started opening the bag.

“I apologize but I can’t exactly unbind you,” he spoke softly, “Not yet, anyway.”

Your heart began to race at the implication. He was going to feed you. It was hard to decipher how you felt about it, a potent mixture of surprise, adoration, lust, and embarrassment hitting you all at once.

“O-Oh, okay,” you mumbled.

Eyes lowering, you watched in interest as he carefully peeled an apple and cut it into bite-sized slices with a fancy-looking pocket knife. It was hilarious how tiny his massive hands made the fruit seem. All humor drained from your thoughts when he picked up a piece and slowly brought it your way.

König’s eyes were wide beneath the sniper hood when you glanced up but you quickly dropped your gaze once more self-consciously as you parted your lips. Before you could stop it, a mortifying moan of delight fled your lips as you crunched into the deliciously sweet fruit, but you couldn’t find enough fucks to care as the hunger in your belly ramped up. When he picked up the next piece, you preemptively opened your mouth in wait.

This continued on for quite some time in a comfortable silence until you swallowed the last piece and you almost whined at the loss. Thankfully, it seemed he wasn’t done. He snagged a block from the bag next and your mouth watered as you finally realized it was a brick of cheese. Surprising, but delicious and welcomed nonetheless. The cheese passed much quicker as it was a small chunk and you couldn’t help but watch in elation as he grabbed another thing from the bag. It appeared to be the last of the food because he crumbled up the paper sack and tossed it aside before opening up the little red box.

“Do you like dark chocolate?” he asked suddenly.

A grin spread across your lips as you nodded a little too eagerly.

“Of course!”

You couldn’t tell for certain, thanks to the mask, but you were sure he smiled with the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Why was that cute? That shouldn’t have been cute.

“These are from Germany,” he explained warmly, “A brand called Schogetten.”

He broke off one of the small pieces and brought it to your already parted lips. As the sweet morsel melted across your tongue, you went limp in disbelief, a little whine muffled in your closed mouth. You don’t know if it was because you hadn’t eaten in almost a day, or if it was the fact it was different than your usual chocolate back home, but the flavor was unparalleled. If all your dignity hadn’t already gone through the window, you wouldn’t have certainly lost it for that chocolate.

Piece after piece, he fed you dutifully and silently, until you were too full for more.

“I’m- I’m glad you enjoyed that.”

His voice was low, huskier than before, and it sent flutters through your heart.

Feeling much more relaxed and comfortable, you had to smile back in response, carefully nudging your foot against his much larger boot.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” you replied.

That familiar weight of his gaze was on you once more but it didn’t take long to figure out why, one hand reaching out and steadying your face while his other thumb came to wipe your bottom lip.

“You have some chocolate here,” he mumbled.

It was sweet of him to help when you would have had no way of knowing. The feelings of adoration dissolved into something much darker when his hand went beneath his hood and you heard the audible pop of his thumb leaving his mouth.

OH.

It seemed he realized what he was doing at the same time as you, his posture going rigid as his eyes widened. A soft curse left him as he suddenly jerked his hand back down.

“I apologize. I don’t know what came over me.”

Fuck. Was this Stockholm syndrome? Did that set in this quickly? It wasn’t exactly a topic you’d researched much in your nursing classes. If it was… it certainly wasn’t a bad feeling.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to steady your breath as the flutters in your chest grew stronger.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

Another bout of silence filled the space between you both, but this time you were practically vibrating in your seat from the anxious excitement thumping in your veins. As you stared into his half-lidded eyes, your thoughts went wild.

What was going to happen now? There was a static charge in the air and it made your skin bump up. How long did you have before your team came? Were they coming? Did you even want them to come now?

Your thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when he lunged forward, hands cradling your face carefully as his mouth smashed painfully hard against yours. It was a delicate juxtaposition and your brain took a few long seconds to register what was happening, but the instant you realized he was kissing you, you melted into it with a moan. The scratch of the hood against your lips was a unique texture but not entirely unpleasant, although you’d much rather have his lips bare.

The chair creaked with a loud groan as you tipped forward, eager for more of the Austrian and frustrated by the rope keeping you bound.

A huff of annoyance slipped out as you snapped beneath your breath, “Fucking rope!”

“Süßes mädchen,” König groaned low in his throat.

He pulled away just as suddenly as he’d started and you actually did whine out at that, not caring how pitiful you sounded, until you saw him take out the pocketknife. Fear bubbled acridly in your throat as you swallowed hard, eyes pinned to the blade as he flicked it out. König hadn’t hurt you yet. There was no reason to think he would now… right?

It became painfully obvious that your intuition was right when he stepped behind you and fingered the ropes.

“Stay still, maus, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You did as instructed and we were rewarded with the freedom to move as the rope snapped and fell away. With a long, loud, groan, you leaned back and stretched up to the ceiling, a dopey smile painted on your face as you loosened all the stiff muscles. As you relaxed back into the chair, you found König in front of you once more, almost looking nervous in his stiff posture.

“Thank you,” you said warmly.

When you stood, you were made acutely aware of just how short you were compared to him. You’d known he was tall but seeing him now, how far you had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze, it was so different.

“I’m trusting you not to try anything.”

His voice was tight, whether from excitement or worry you weren’t sure, and you immediately knew how you wanted to prove your trustworthiness. Grabbing one of his massive hands in both of yours, you pulled him over to the cot in the back corner of the room. It was almost comical how easily he followed you and allowed you to push him to sit on the bed but, as you stepped between his knees and got face to face, there was no denying who was actually in charge when your eyes met. If his physical presence wasn’t enough to deter you, the power in those beautiful blues was reminder enough.

“I think I owe you, for being so kind and for saving me,” you whispered, hands cupping his jaw to mimic the hold he’d had on you, “If that’s okay, sir.”

When he didn’t stop you, you took the chance to kiss him again. It was even better the second time around. The groan he let out against your lips was pornographic and you found your knees weakening as his arms wrapped around your thighs, hands resting right below your ass. It didn’t take long for your desire to overwhelm your thoughts and you broke the kiss with a gasp of air, carefully lowering to your knees between his legs. What you weren’t expecting was the absolute mind fuck it was to see such a big man looming above you, nor the way seeing his thick thighs on either side of your head would make your pussy throb.

“Well, süßes mädchen?” he teased, leaning back onto his hands.

What a sight that was; Black shirt pulled so tight across his body that every ridge of his muscles bumped through, dark green cargo pants now sporting a growing bulge, the intensity of his gaze staring you down with something akin to amusement and delight.

You could feel your hands shaking as you reached up. What little confidence you had previously was beginning to wane at the realization that you were going to actually be allowed to touch this adonis of a man. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and got on with it. To his credit, König didn’t push you to speed it up. In fact, he praised you softly with each touch. By the time you were pulling on his boxers to get his cock out, you were beyond soaked and arousal hummed like a bee through your body. The way it slapped against his stomach once free didn’t help your predicament one single bit.

“Holy shit.”

You weren’t a virgin by any means but the size of him made you pause in shock. Of course. A giant man would have a giant cock. What else did you expect? It was surprisingly beautiful too; surrounded by trimmed blonde hair, thick, long, and curved, flushed tip leaking and just begging to be sucked.

Swallowing hard, you let your fingers wrap around him and moaned when your fingers didn’t meet. If you were lucky enough to do more than suck him off, you were going to be sore… blissfully, happily, sore.

“Ah, scheiße, ja. That’s it, maus,” he purred, cock twitching in your hand.

Your face warmed under the praise. Leaning forward on your knees, you braced your hand against one of his thick thighs before bringing your lips to the tip of his cock, pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin. The hiss he drew in was delightfully guttural. You needed to hear more of him, needed to earn that praise and pay him back for his unprovoked kindness. Slowly, you moved down his cock, planting kiss after kiss until you came to the base. He was nearly vibrating with need when you finally poked your tongue out, tracing up the veins branching along the underside.

With the way his body tensed, you’d almost thought you’d done something wrong but then his hand was in your hair, pulling it back as he guided your mouth to his head again.

“Stop teasing or I’ll bend you across my lap, Y/N,” he commanded gruffly.

The way your name sounded coming from his lips was deadlier than any poison. You wanted to hear it again and again, whispered in your ears and against your skin. Fuck.

Oh, and the mental images. How did you tell him that you wouldn’t mind him spanking you at all? Hmm, an option for later, maybe? Pushing the thoughts aside, you finally gave in to your temptations and licked up the precum around his head before taking him into your mouth.

“Heilige Scheiße!”

His moan was heavenly in the most sinful ways, only rivaled by the little breathless whimpers he let out as you hollowed out your cheeks and slowly sucked him down. You knew there was no way you’d be able to fit the entirety of him, your jaw already aching from the stretch, but you were going to fit as much as humanly possible. Inch by difficult inch, you took him until he was pressing dangerously hard against your throat. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get your body to relax enough to take him in- your body’s self-preservation too strong- but you quickly thought of a loophole.

Pulling back suddenly, you gasped out, “Push me down.”

“Huh?”

Giving him a coy smile, you said, “I know I can’t push past my body’s limits, but you can fix that. I want you in my throat so, please, just… push me down?”

His entire being shuddered and he took in a sharp breath as if he were going to argue, but finally, he relented with a nod. Flashing him a wink, you wrapped your lips around him once more.

“Take a breath,” he instructed softly.

You barely got a lungful in before he arched into your face. Tears welled up in your eyes as he thrust in deep, saliva pooling in your mouth as you gagged around him, but you were able to relax just enough for him to push through. Mortification clawed at your brain as both tears and drool spilled out the instant he began to fuck your mouth, but worse was the embarrassing noises that escaped your throat. Thankfully he didn’t seem as perturbed by them, possibly even enjoying them if his groans were any indication.

Blinking away the tears, you looked up at him and were rewarded with a pained moan.

“Scheiße, kleines maus, you look so perfect like this,” he groaned, “That pretty little mouth feels so- ah- so good.”

When he let you up, you inhaled a quick breath before going back down. Now feeling more comfortable with the sensations, you brought your hands back into play, one pumping the base of his cock while the other wiggled beneath his boxers to stroke his balls. It wasn’t long before you could hear little frantic whimper leaving his lips. The way his breath hitched and his fingers tightened painfully in your hair told you all you needed. You quickened your pace and played into the sucking noises that he seemed to relish.

“A-Ah, fuck, I’m going to cum. B-Bitte. Bitte, bitte, bitte. Don’t stop!”

A flush of heat rushed through your core and you couldn’t help but moan around him. Something about hearing such a powerful man reduced to a pleasured mess was both arousing and flattering. His strangled gasp was the only warning you got before he slammed you down, hips arching into your face as his cock throbbed in your throat.

Eyes burning and throat aching, you managed to pull up just enough to breathe and used your saliva to pump his cock faster.

“Come for me, K��nig, please,” you begged him weakly before taking him in your mouth again, your tongue laving his head lovingly.

Almost instantly, he broke, rope after rope of cum filling your mouth as he groaned your name. As you looked up at him, you wished you could see his face, see more than just the squint of his eyes as you sucked him dry. Unfortunately, you knew you couldn’t ask that of him… yet. Maybe if you were lucky enough to be around him more, eventually you could earn that trust.

It wasn’t until he was shuddering and tugging on your hair that you finally pulled back, content that he’d ridden out that wave as long as he could. A satisfied smile curled up your lips as you leaned your head against his thigh and watched him intently. The heavy rise and fall of his chest was enrapturing. What would it feel like to curl up against him and use those muscles as a pillow?

You were torn from your daydreams when he patted his other thigh.

“Up, now,” he demanded.

Lifting your brows in shock, you let him guide you up onto the cot and sat on his thighs as commanded.

“Yes, sir?” you asked curiously.

König didn’t answer. Instead, a hand came to the back of your skull and jerked you forward while he sat up, a squeal of shock escaping as you fell against him hard. Before you could question him, a mouth was over yours. A decidedly bare mouth. No hood to impede it. Realization sent a shiver through your body and you couldn’t help but reach up and hold his jaw. Prickles of a shadow beard tickled your palms and fingers with each caress. There was no denying his jaw was strong, angular almost, as you soaked in the sensations. God you wanted to see him even more now. Your exploration was cut short when you felt the breach of a tongue between your lips and a hand between your thighs simultaneously.

“König,” you gasped out softly against his mouth.

The chuckle he let out caused your core to clench in need.

“You didn’t think that I was done with you, did you, maus?”

He didn’t give you the chance to respond, tongue filling your mouth with vigor as you melted into him. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d been captured in your pajamas when his hand slipped easily beneath the elastic waist of your silky shorts. He let out a hungry groan when his fingers came into direct contact with your skin.

“No panties?” he asked, amusement and lust heavy in his voice, “How lucky for me.”

His words made you blush but the embarrassment was easily forgotten when one long finger ran down your cunt, tracing your slit in teasing strokes.

“You’re already so wet, mein schatz.”

A broken snicker fled your lips as he tenderly slid two fingers between your lips and you whimpered out, “It’s not my fault you’re- fuck!”

“I’m what?” he teased.

He made it impossible to respond, the calloused pad of his fingers making little swirls around your nub, just on the right side of not enough.

“You-You’re, fuck, you’re- Ugh, you’re making it hard to talk!” you squeaked out.

König let out a long rumbling laugh that felt way too nice against your chest.

“Try, maus, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Fuck, you’re so sweet, and you’re big, and your eyes are beautiful, and- and-” a pitiful squeal interrupted your train of thought when he slowly slipped a single finger into your cunt.

“Annnd?” he purred.

“I love your voice, fuck, I could listen to you read a dictionary!” you groaned.

“Mmm, good girl.”

Your knees went weak and your cunt clenched around his finger as your eyes flew open to meet his in surprise.

“Ah, you like that, hmm? You like to hear what a good girl you’re being for me?” he asked, not-so-subtly grinding up against you with an already hardening bulge, “You’re being absolutely perfect, mein schatz. This little cunt gripping so tight. Almost as tight as your throat was on my cock. I’m almost afraid to take you.”

“No, please, please do, please! I can take it!”

“Oooh, I know you can, süßes mädchen, don’t worry,” he hummed, quickening his finger as he twisted his palm to rest against your clit.

Your forehead fell against his shoulder in utter defeat as you lost all inhibitions, grinding down against his palm with each thrust he gave. It was ridiculous how close you already felt with so little stimulation but there was no denying the ways your walls were flutter around him. Pleasure swirled through your core, growing tighter and tighter, until all you could think about was how fucking good he felt and how you wanted his cock in you, now.

A needy whimper fell from your lips when he suddenly pulled his hand away and you jerked back in his lap to stare at him in disbelief.

“Wha-”

Your voice went silent as you watched the way his tongue cleaned up his glistening fingers with a moan. Fuck. That was it. You were good and ruined.

“I want to make sure you are good and ready, mein schatz, so lay down for me.”

Before you could even move, he picked you up as if you were nothing and dumped you onto the cot. It took a second for your brain to catch up, too shocked by the show of strength, and by then he was lying on the comically small bed on his stomach, mouth pressing hungry kisses to the insides of your soft thighs.

“Mein Gott, you are so beautiful,” he groaned quietly, “So soft. So sweet.”

Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your face and let out a whine. No way was this beast of a man not only going down on you, but he was going to kill you with compliments while he did it.

Almost instantly, your hands were thrown aside and you gaped at him in confusion, only to see his full lips curved up into a smirk, mask tucked behind his ears to expose even more of his beautiful features.

“None of that now. You will not hide from me. I want to see that pretty face when I make you scream.”

Yep. You were dead. Dead and gone to heaven. When they raided the camp, you had just been killed with all your allies and this was some fucked up kind of reward for all your good deeds.

All existential thoughts were wiped clean from your mind when you felt him tugging your shorts down. You quickly helped him, unable to stop the giggle that escaped when he tossed them aside with a curse. And then you were bare before him. He looked like a man starved and you were given no warning before he dived in.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasped.

Big hands wrapped around your thighs and tugged you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders before moving to part your lips for his tongue. Before you could get used to the sensation, he thrust two fingers in your cunt, punching all the air from your lungs.

“Scheiße kleines,” he groaned against your skin, “You taste so good. I could live between these thighs.”

It was all too much. The swirl of his tongue on your clit, the girth of his fingers pressing oh-so-perfectly against that sweet spot only your toys could reach, the feel of his facial hair scraping against your sensitive skin. And then he added a third finger into the mix.

“Ho-Holy fuck! König, ohmygodfuck!”

You nearly collapsed in around him but he was quick to catch your legs, holding them apart with a hand and elbow on either side, his forearm pressing deliciously against your lower belly. That pressure alone sent you rocketing to the edge. Instinctively you reached down to grab his hair, only to come into contact with the fabric, and you couldn’t help but whine in frustration. You really wanted to touch him more.

As if understanding your plight, he slowed until only his fingers were pumping in and out and lifted slightly. Something was brewing in his beautiful blues when they met your gaze.

“I can’t take off the mask, mein schatz, I’m sorry,” he sighed.

“It-It’s okay!” you assured him quickly, “I understand!”

Despite your words, he kept staring at you, the sounds of his fingers sliding through your arousal the only noise in the room.

“Here, close your eyes for a moment.”

You did as told, swallowing hard in anticipation, and then his hand grabbed yours. Your heart felt like it was trying to escape your chest as he guided your fingers below the hood into his short hair. It was a bit longer than you expected, having thought he would have a regulation military fade cut, and softer.

“Thank you,” you whispered, tears invading your closed eyes.

“Of course, maus.”

How in the actual fuck was this stranger- a literal mass killer- you’d met a day ago more in tune with your needs and willing to compromise than literally any other man you’d been with?

A gasp tore from your throat, harsh and raw, when he immediately returned to his previous act. Somehow it was even more intense after the brief break; frantic, almost painful.

“König, pl-please. Don’t stop!”

His moan was the only response you got. Rather than take your words as an invitation to go harder or faster like most did, he listened and listened well, keeping the same even pace, building you steadily higher and higher. Words and thoughts became impossible, incoherent pleading and wanton moans the only sounds you could make as you began to shake around him. Your fingers snarled in his locks in a way that was probably painful but you couldn’t find the wherewithal to stop.

“Ja, that’s it, maus,” he demanded, “Be a good girl and come for me.”

Within seconds, that ever-tightening knot in your gut broke. You tried to scream but the pleasure left you mute, lips parted in a silent cry of his name as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through your being. When your breath finally came, so did the tears.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, so- mm!- so good!”

Just as it became too much, he lifted from your pussy with a heady groan.

“Verdammt, sieh dich an, kleine Maus.”

The moment the orgasm haze started to clear, you reached down and snagged his shirt, tugging on it to get him over you. He relented with a little chuckle when you whined his name.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, clean fingers gently tracing along your jawline.

“Okay? The fuck you think? I’m absolutely dead in the best way,” you giggle, finally opening your eyes to meet his, “But… I still want you.”

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you reached up at the same time and carefully pushed the hood back up, just enough to reveal his lips, your own curving up into a gleeful smile as you saw them.

“Can I?” you asked hesitantly.

His answer came as the brutal crush of his lips on yours, pulling a moan from deep in your chest. As his tongue dominated yours, you took the initiative to reach between your bodies and palmed his cock, delighting in the way he whined.

“Please, please fuck me,” you begged against his mouth.

“Couldn’t refuse you even if I wanted to,” he hummed back.

You helped guide him as he lowered his hips to yours, unable to stop the gasp that escaped when you felt his fat head against your entrance.

“You’re sure?” he asked suddenly.

Brows furrowing, you dug your nails into his neck lightly and pulled him into another hungry kiss.

“If you don’t fuck me, I might die.”

That earned a warm laugh, a laugh that made your insides light up too bright, and a swift smack to the ass.

“Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?”

When he began to push in, you tried so hard to keep your eyes open, wanting to see the expression in his, but it was too overwhelming. Despite his thorough prep, it’d been quite a dry spell for hookups due to work and it didn’t help that he was absolutely massive. It was a stretch, to say the least, but it hurt in all the best ways.

“Oh mein gott,” König hissed into your mouth, “You are so tight, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m pretty sure you’re just hung, big guy,” you teased through shaky breaths, “It’s- It’s good though.”

“So fucking good.”

The metallic tang of blood filled your mouth when he suddenly caught your lips again, this time with too much teeth and force, but it only made you moan. The pain of a split lip was nothing compared to the delight of his cock stretching your walls. It felt like forever until his hips were against yours, but once they finally were, you were already needing more. You tried to rock your hips into him only for him to stop you with a bruising grip and a dark growl. His eyes were predatory when you found them and it lit another kind of fire in your belly.

“Dont. Do. That,” he bit out gruffly, “Don’t move. Give me a second, mein schatz, or it’s going to be over far too soon.”

Pride fluttered to life in your chest at his admission and you couldn’t help but grin, earning another cheeky smack.

“You’re enjoying this? My pain?” he teased warmly.

You pouted slightly but couldn’t maintain the look, too enraptured by his pretty blues.

“I have to admit that it feels good to know you’re as affected as me,” you whispered.

He groaned, forehead falling against yours, and muttered, “You have no idea, my love. You feel- Gott, I can’t even describe it. I’ve never felt someone who fit me so perfectly.”

Lips quirking up into a teasing smile, you replied, “I guess you’ll have to keep me around then, hmm? Because I can promise you, you’ve ruined all other men for me at this point.”

König groaned and his hips rutted eagerly at your words.

“Don’t tempt me, süßes mädchen,” he moaned, “I would love nothing more than to steal you and keep you here, all mine, to have whenever I wanted.”

As he spoke, you fell more and more in love with the idea. And why shouldn’t you? This was the most romance you’d experienced in years, all your previous conquests being quick flings with soldiers who barely qualified as friends. König was the first one to truly see you in years.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, maus, you’re making this hard.”

Biting your lower lip, you tested a little wiggle against his hips and were elated when he allowed it.

“I’m already here, König, who says you have to let me go?” you whispered, “For all they know, I’m just another casualty.”

Logically you knew you shouldn’t feed into the delusion plaguing you both right now, but fuck did you want it. Something about the idea of being at his beck and call, being allowed to please him whenever either of you wanted, was a deliciously dangerous option.

Suddenly, he drew out his hips and slammed back in with a strangled grunt.

“You want that, hmm? Want to be my personal little whore, maus?”

The way you clenched around him made you both whimper and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss.

“Yes, yes, please! Wanna be allowed to have you whenever,” you whined, “Want you to use me.”

Your nails found his shoulders and dug into the firm muscles there as the sound of your bodies meeting clouded the room. But you needed more, needed to feel more of him. Logically you knew you both needed to stay as clothed as possible, considering you could be interrupted any moment, but you couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. Slipping your hands under the hem of his shirt, you slid your nails up the length of his back, dragging the material with you until it gathered at his shoulders and you were granted the absolutely stunning visual of his abdomen clenching with each thrust of his hips.

“God you’re beautiful,” you gasped out subconsciously.

The noise König let out was unholy, deep and keening, as his fingers tightened on your hips once more. Even through the haze of bliss, you could see the way his cheeks lit bright red. It would be cute if he weren’t currently fucking you silly.

“That’s-That’s my line, maus,” he chuckled breathlessly.

Eyes trailing back up to his, you couldn’t resist leaning up as you pulled him down against you once more, your lips finding his ear with a little moan.

“Then we’re both beautiful, König, because- fuck!”

His pace grew brutal without warning as he shifted and suddenly it felt like he was slamming right against your cervix, the sharp pinch of pain making you yelp in surprise. It was clear the praise was doing something, a fact you stored away in your memory for later. Then he hit your cervix again. You almost tried to pull back until his hand left your hip, coming between your bodies to rub gentle circles across your clit. Fuck and that made the pain more than worth it.

“Kö-König, close, please, just-”

He groaned lowly and grunted out, “I know, I know. I’ve got you, mein schatz. Just relax and let go for me.”

You finally released your hold on his back only to cup his jaw and draw him into a frantic kiss, panting out half-mumbled half-screamed moans as he tongued at your mouth. It was all too much. It was the best thing you’d ever experienced. When your climax finally hit, it felt like the world turned up on end. Collapsing back on the bed, you slapped a hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle the scream that escaped, but König had none of that. One big hand collected both of yours and pinned them to the bed by your wrists.

“No! Let me hear what I do to you,” he snarled, “I want to hear every pretty little sound!”.

Looking up through wet eyelashes, you couldn’t stop the enamored smile that crossed your lips even as you whimpered for him. He looked so fucking good over you. What you wouldn’t give to see that sight every damn day.

“Why are you so smiley?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone as he slowed his pace.

“Just really fucking happy,” you giggled softly, “You feel so damn good and look just as amazing.”

König’s lips twitched into a half smile before he shifted in place, keeping your hands pinned while he carefully lifted one leg up over his shoulder. Before he even moved, you could tell your body was going to resist the change in depth. Not that you would stop him. He could demand you attempt a headstand while he fucked you and you’d do it.

“Oh FUCK!”

Your shriek earned a broken moan from the man above you but it didn’t stop him for even a moment, hips slamming into you with purpose. Fingers curling tight, you dug your nails into his hand and bit your lip hard to keep a hold of your senses, though it was for naught. The way his fat cock buried into your tight walls over and over was more than you could handle. You wanted to beg him to stop and to keep going until you died.

“So tight for me, süßes mädchen,” he groaned huskily as his free hand came back to your clit, “One more.”

“Eh!?” you gasped in disbelief.

He grunted out a laugh and said, “Come for me, one more time. I want to feel you coming again before this is over.”

You shook your head violently and retorted, “I can’t.”

Even as you said it, he was easily proving your words wrong with his gentle stroking contrasting with the way he pounded your swollen cunt. His fingers tightened until it felt like your wrists would break under the force and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care, all self-preservation long gone.

“You can and you will, mein schatz. I am nothing but a patient man.”

A pathetic whimper tumbled from your parted lips as you panted for breath beneath the exhaustion of it all. Suddenly though, he slows, releasing your hands and letting your leg fall aside.

“König, wh-”

He silences you as he falls completely over you once more, the heavy feeling of his body against yours making you sigh happily. It only takes a moment to realize his reasoning, hands pushing your hair away while plush lips begin kissing along your neck.

“Mmmm,” you hummed softly, fingers slipping up the back of his hood to find his hair again, “That feels incredible.”

“You taste incredible,” he replied through a mouthful of your flesh, “Though, I must admit, my intentions aren’t so pure.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he bit down hard, hard enough that you reflexively yanked on his hair and screeched. The pain dulled to a low throb when he started licking and sucking over the wound, and you clenched hard around him when he rolled his hips into yours.

“You’re gonna kill me,” you whined breathlessly.

“Only with pleasure, maus,” he said with a chuckle, “Would never hurt a hair on this pretty little head.”

Your heart fluttered traitorously at that. Deciding to return the favor, you moved aside his hood enough to reveal his thick, pale, neck and started kissing along the warm flesh.

“Ah, s-scheiße.”

Poking your tongue out, you traced a line up to his ear and moaned at the taste of salt and skin. Even his sweat was driving you crazy. What was this man doing to you?

The slow motions quickly turned into something much more primal when you wrapped your legs around his waist and sunk your teeth into his throat.

“Oh, du kleine Füchsin!”

Groaning, you released his neck and whispered, “Fuck, I love hearing you talk.”

“Then I shall talk to you,” he grunted through moans, “What should I say? Should I tell you how good you feel, how perfect you grip me? That I never want to leave this tight little cunt? How divine you look when you’re drunk on my cock?”

Despite your earlier protests, you could feel another orgasm brewing fast under his words and you let him know.

“Ja, you going to come for me, aren’t you, schatz?”

“Oh god yeah, yes, please, keep- keep-”

You pulled his hair taut as your limbs drew him in close, silently demanding to feel every inch of his body against yours, and his name spilled from your lips like a mantra. This one came up just as fast but much calmer, creeping up silently and taking you by surprise with its voracity. Something deep inside you snapped and you could feel your arousal gush down your cunt, coating your cheeks and the cloth beneath you.

“Fuck, mein schatz, where- mein Gott, where do you want it?” he gasped out as you clenched around him.

You didn’t even give it a second thought, locking your legs and pulling him into a ravenous kiss.

“In me, please, I’m- I’m on birth control. I need to feel it in me,” you whined weakly into his mouth.

His curses were muffled by your lips but their intensity wasn’t lost on you, the mumbled praises only adding to the flush on your skin. You bit his lower lip gently and suckled all while your nails scraped against his scalp and shoulders, doing your best to pull him under with you.

“Oh, that’s my girl. My good girl,” he snarled, “Mine. All mine!”

Stars burst behind your eyes as he buried his cock as far as possible in your walls, the throbbing sending little pulses of ecstasy through your veins as you tried hard to focus on working him through it. You only hoped you could return even a fraction of the bliss he put you through.

A long, loud groan reverberated through the now silent walls as he went limp- though stubbornly keeping all his weight from pressing on you- and you had to smile to yourself, fingers now playing through his soft strands gently, in a silent apology for nearly ripping them out.

“I’m going to move, hold onto me,” he instructed you quietly.

You did as asked but the way he flipped your bodies over was still a shock. You instinctively tried to lift off of him only to be jerked back down, massive arms locking around you and holding you to his chest.

“You are not going to hurt me, Y/N,” he murmured, “Rest. Relax.”

“O-Okay,” you whispered.

Face red, you fought all those negative inner thoughts away and gave in, earning a content little sigh from the big man.

“You know, I never thought I’d have the best sex of my life while being a captive,” you joked easily, turning your head to rest your chin on your forearm, allowing you to observe him closely, “Where have you been all my life?”

Your head bobbled like a boat on the ocean with each hearty laugh that left him and your heart clenched in delight at the pure joy in his eyes.

“Waiting for you apparently, maus, took you long enough to get here.”

There was something strange in the way he looked at you, the tenderness in his touch as he held your face and stroked your lips, but your cockdrunk, touch-hungry, brain decided it couldn’t care less. All that mattered was how it made you feel, and God did it ever make you feel perfect.

#König #könig cod #könig x reader #König smut #COD smut #call of duty fanfic

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