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[haunt3dh3art]

[haunt3dh3art]

Arcade, Boone, and Raul As Yandere's

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » Manipulation, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Obsessive Behavior, General Yandere Themes ➼ Genre » Yandere, Whumpee/Whumper

Arcade isn't someone who would kill needlessly, instead, he'd try to slowly manipulate you into 'falling in love' with him with little things that'd influence you to see him as higher than others. It'd start off with snide comments about the people you surround yourself with, little pieces that might make you second guess who you've put your trust in. He'd also be condescending toward you. You're too dumb to wander the wasteland without him, so just let him make some of your decisions for you. Honestly, you should feel honored that he's even agreeing to help you out, there are plenty of others who require his assistance yet he's here with you. He's not above lying about you having a terminal illness to extort more control over you, although he is above infecting you with a sickness. The furthest he'd ever go would be making you addicted to a substance, whether that be drugs or alcohol.

"Oh, please, haven't you seen the way they talk? They'll ditch you the first chance they get and I'll be here when they do."

Boone is the most assertive out of the three and he's not subtle about how he feels, you'll immediately recognize when his obsession with you starts. He'll refuse to let you out of his sight and will try to scare you into compliance with threats of the Legion. He'll tell you his own detailed war stories just to shake you up. He also isn't gonna care about how you feel toward someone, if he sees them as a threat then he's gonna snipe them, even if it causes you to weep for days on end. You're his and therefore he'll decide what happens to you and who you hang out with. The sooner you understand that, the better.

"You leave and before you know it, the Legion'll grab you. You don't know them like I do, so if you want to live you'll listen."

Raul is very calm and very aware of how unhealthy his feelings are, although, he tries to justify them in his mind. As the old world disappears, so do old world norms, in that sense, maybe what he's feeling isn't so unhealthy considering your surroundings? It's all just a matter of perspective. He only does what he does for your benefit, it’s only natural to feel the way he does in a world so skewed. He won't try and convince you to think anything different, he'd more or less just stick around and ensure you don't get into trouble. Outwardly he'd more or less just seem like an overprotective dad but when your back is turned he's threatening people like there's no tomorrow. Just simple 'reminders' on what he'll do if they try something against you. You'd have to squint to see the change in personality, though, he's so careful about what shows and what doesn't.

“I dunno, boss, the guy was here then he wasn't. Come on now, what could I have done to make him feel threatened?”

[haunt3dh3art]

Old Fashioned ↠ The King x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic

Music rang throughout the crowded rooms in the School of Impersonation as the broken-down jukebox sang sorrowfully in the corner. Its glitched and sporadic chants did little to dissuade the gang from enjoying themselves, however, as they all still seemed to have about as much fun as if the music were clear.

You leaned against the wall behind the makeshift bar, watching as the King members ran around drinking and dancing on stage. The white dress you stole from the Ultra-Luxe fitted you nicely as you cradled your own alcohol in your hand, enjoying the multiple Elvis songs that the members took turns singing into the busted microphone.

You jumped in surprise when you heard your bell being rung, you're eyes scanned over the rows of barstools before they landed on the King. "Sorry, baby, didn't mean to make ya all shook up like that.".

You grinned at him, "Don't worry about it. Here for another drink?"

"I sure am, could you get me one for the heart?"

"One for the heart? Did one of your groupies leave you?"

His blue eyes locked onto yours for a minute before he replied, "Yeah, somethin' like that."

You rummaged around in your crates before pulling out a bottle of beer. Simple, but he seemed to enjoy them well enough.

"I'm worried about you, King, did something happen? I feel like you're never hanging around your girls anymore." Normally you'd see the two women he was usually around at least once a day, but it'd been around a week since the last time you saw them.

"I'm hangin' round you, ain't I?" He said, offering you a quiet 'thank ya' as you handed him over the drink.

"You know what I mean." You said, leaning against the counter to better level yourself with the man who sat on the bar stool before you. "What's going on? Was there an argument?"

His fingers tapped rhythmically on the counter, supposedly a nervous habit, although, you don't ever think you've seen him anxious in your life. "Would you mind comin' upstairs with me? I'd rather talk with you in a more uh—secluded location."

"You're the boss." You quickly wiped your hands off onto a rag before following closely behind him up the stairs of the relatively large building. You ran your hand along the rusted railing as you went, you were slightly anxious about what he wanted to talk to you about and prayed that he wasn't mad about the whole 'banned-from-the-Ultra-Luxe-for-not-following-industry-rules' incident. You thought you brushed most of it under the rug, but maybe something happened to reach his ears all the way out in Freeside?

"Sooo, what'd you wanna tell me? I hope I'm not in trouble." You joked, attempting to alleviate the tension that was slowly starting to set. You'd been in the King's room many times before, most people have, he's not very strict about who can and can't wander up to that floor, but seeing it without all his usual girls made you feel confused and slightly uneasy.

"(Y/N), I don't know what's overcome me but I can't seem to shake you from my thoughts." He blurted, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

"What?" You asked. This wasn't where you thought the conversation would go at all.

"Listen, you don't gotta say anythin' right now. I get that I'm technically your boss an' all that, but—well—I just wanna offer you this dance."

You giggled, flattered at the offer as you stepped closer to drape your arms around his neck, his hands instinctively sliding down your waist. "Of course." Is all you said before he began to sway you across the wooden floors that still held sturdy after all these years. The old-fashioned slow dance didn't mix well with the songs the others blasted downstairs, but it didn't seem to matter, the King still handled you delicately as you danced. And when the music started to slow, he dipped you down, kissed your temple, and let you go.

He wrapped your hands around his arm as he led you to the pool table that sat off to the side, "How 'bout a game of pool?"

[haunt3dh3art]

Oooh you do yandere stuff?? Can I please have something for yandere Joshua Graham, either headcanons or the alphabet would be great!

Yandere Joshua Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » yandere themes ➼ Genre » Romantic, Yandere

Affection - How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Joshua shows his affection through how he shelters you. He hates it when you leave the camp without him, and does everything he can to ensure you won't end up being a target for the White Legs or any other Legionary assassin that may come for him again. He's fully aware of the influence Ceasar has and would take this aspect of your relationship very seriously. You won't leave without someone else going with you. He simply won't allow it.

Blood - How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

In a normal relationship, Joshua would be more hesitant to show how violent he can get. But, in this situation, all the drive to hide who he really is goes out the window. He's willing to go as far as he needs to when it comes to you. Anyone necessary. The tribals, your companions, and even Daniel. He'd slaughter them all if it meant you'd be safe. He'd even do it in front of you.

Cruelty - How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No. He thinks it's rude. It's not your fault that you aren't as experienced as he is. In fact, the whole reason he'd abduct you is to be able to keep a better eye on you. Making fun of you for something that was inevitably going to happen isn't something he's prone to doing.

Darling - Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He's going to have you baptized, whether you want to or not, but besides that, he wouldn't dream of forcing you to do anything you didn't want to.

Exposed - How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

There are times when it feels as if you don't even know the man. He's quiet and incredibly closed off, even to you. He'll try to discreetly tell you about himself through bible verses or poetic words, but other than that, he's not jumping for you to learn about his past with the Legion any time soon. He wants you to love and trust him, not despise him.

Fight - How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He understands it. This world is harsh, of course, your instinct is to fight him. However, after the first week of staying with him, he hopes you’ll calm down and finally just accept that you’ll never get away from him.

Game - Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He won’t. If you try and escape the humble home he’s managed to set up for you both in Zion, he’s going to be upset. Even with all the knowledge he’s told you about the White Legs and all those around who want to hurt you, and you still want to try your luck? He’ll be disappointed, to say the least. He expects you to have more instinct than that.

Hell - What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

He's always taken his philosophies seriously, even when he was in the Legion. So, if he ever overhears you saying something he deems to be blasphemous towards his religion, you're going to have a very hard time calming him down. He'll force you to pray out loud to the Lord and ask for forgiveness until he's satisfied. It doesn't matter to him if it takes hours, he refuses to let you be shunned to Hell for a sorry mistake such as the one you committed. What kind of husband would he be if he didn't seek to save you from God's wrath?

Ideals - What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

If he had it his way, you’d be the perfect housewife, staying home to cook and clean while he went out and did whatever. Some Legion habits never left him, and coming back to a loving spouse who’s prepared to comply with his every whim is one of them. Just the perfect nuclear family.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets very quiet when he's jealous, preferring to be silent rather than blatantly lashing out at whoever is triggering these feelings. He thinks it's stupid that he gets so upset at the tribals for simply being around you. It's not like you'd leave him - not like you could - so why is he so stressed? He'll pray and go on walks to try and combat his jealousy, it's one of the only things he actively tries to work on.

Kisses - How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts as any spouse would. He kisses you on your hands or on your cheeks to greet you, rests a gentle hand on your lower back when you're near him, and does everything he can to take care of you.

Love letters - How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As he believes any man should: with trinkets and thought-out dates. He wants to court you the right way, even if you’re aware from the start that you’ve got no other choice other than to accept his advances.

Mask - Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

On the outside it doesn’t appear as if anything has changed, however he feels different. There’s an urge now, something that tells him to kill. He’s felt it before during his peak in the Legion, but now it’s come back and he’s not sure what else to do than to quench the thirst of fear that floods him by ensuring your safety. Maybe it’s God's will that’s enforcing him to protect you.

Naughty - How would they punish their darling?

He’d shout and maybe grab your face, but he couldn’t imagine going any farther than that. If he wants to get his point across then he’ll just let you feel the raw fear that getting chased by Legionaries gives you (only once, he doesn’t want you to be actually harmed), but enough to get you to listen.

Oppression - How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He’ll take away your right to leave the tribes camp, your right to your weapons, your right to your opinions, your right of religion - there’s not much he doesn’t have control over.

Patience - How patient are they with their darling?

Joshua thinks he's patient, but he has a clear temper. He'll be kind one moment then angry the next. Although he does his best to not take it out on you, it's still terrifying to witness. Sometimes you wonder if it'd just be best to listen and avoid his fits altogether...

Quit - If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he’s got it in his mind that God assigned him specifically to defend you and keep you safe, so if he ever were to fail that, he’d feel as if he were betraying the Lord's trust.

Regret - Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

How could he? You're better off this way. He's sworn to care for your every need. He'll feed you, give you access to water, cloth you, comfort you, bleed for you, house you - why should he feel guilty about doing you a favor? For loving you?

Stigma - What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Joshua has always had this need to worship in his life. It could be seen with how devoted he was to the Legion and the will of Caesar, then with God, and now with you. There's a primal urge within him to commit himself to wherever he feels most desired, and that just happened to be you.

Tears - How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It shatters him, especially if you're acting like this because of something he did. He'll sit beside your curled-up form and whisper Bible verses and scriptures as a way to encourage and reassure you.

Unique - Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Vice - What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His religion is a massive weak point, and if you can somehow convince him that it was God's will for you to go elsewhere, he may just let you go. Granted, you'd have to be really good at persuading people. He's a logical man and won't just take your word for it so easily.

Wit’s end - Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally, but sometimes he forgets his own strength when it comes to handling you. He likes to brush it under the rug though, best not to think about it.

Xoanon - How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

In his mind, he's already won you over. Of course, he'll still go through the process of romancing you and won't ever stop doing that, but his delusions tell him that you've already fallen for him. One thing about Joshua, however, is that he almost sees you as a second Christ. If you ask him to do something, he'll do it no questions asked. But, in the same sense, he's paranoid that you'll be crucified just like the Lord and is constantly looking out for that certain 'Judas' that will betray you.

Yearn - How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Like a day. The second he feels different around you compared to others, he's got it in his head that you're a divine being or, at the very least, someone God wanted him to meet.

Zenith - Would they ever break their darling?

He hopes to 'break you in' to his way of life, but he hopes that it won't have to be violent or over the top in any way. He's certain you'll come around to his way of thinking soon enough, even if you need a little shove.

[haunt3dh3art]

It's a good evening to write and you're all craving something for Viktor, which I shall deliver. I haven't started writing part two of his backstory but I'll get to it. Eventually.

Also, if you're interested I made a Pinterest board for this man and I'll regularly add images there. Thank you all for the support and please enjoy this little blurb. ♥️

masterlist.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who after he takes you for himself, starts to do little but intimate things with you around the house. The first few days, possibly weeks, were spent with endless screams, pleas and tears. Viktor hated seeing you in such a state, he hated the fact that he was the reason for your bitter tears and silent whimpers.

However, his patience outweighed his sorrow. He was willing to wait until the stars in the whole universe imploded for you to love him.

But, for now, not feeling the need to flinch away from him and his touch would be a good start.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tells you about his day as he makes you dinner. Viktor understands that communication is important and that he needs to establish some things, and what better way to do that than by talking? Of course, he is rather awkward at it, as he has no idea what to talk about aside from his work. There are times when Viktor tries to tap into your interests and wants to ease your fear but it almost never works. What a pity...

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who starts over sharing specific details about his work which depending on your mental state could either be terrifying, useful or some morbid combination of both. Viktor tells you of the people who come to his table, all dead and all his to dissect. There's an odd glimmer in his dark eyes as his dominant hand mimics movements of his sharp scalp. The way in which he speaks sends shivers down your spine, it was rare to see someone so emotionless show even the faintest sparks of passion.

If the situation was not already so grim, his childlike excitement could even be considered cute.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tries so hard to accommodate you and your whims! While he does keep you locked up, your little cage is more than furnished - soft blankets, pillows fit for royalty of old, little trinkets which could keep you entertained and perhaps even a television if he sees fit. Viktor may not understand social cues but he is not stupid either. He doesn't want your brain to rot away in that room, especially when he's not home!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who sometimes sneaks into your room and just. Stands there. Watching you, his gaze neutral but his eyes are blown wide. He does not want to be caught so he makes sure to control his ragged breathing and beating heart. Can you hear him, even when you're knocked out cold? Can you feel him, his presence? A part of him wishes to stay hidden in the shadows, where it's safer, where he can keep a close on you. But his bolder side demands more, more, more.

Who knows, he might just sliver under the covers with you one day. But, one step at a time.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @samuraijack, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @red-viewe

[haunt3dh3art]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

[haunt3dh3art]

18+ MDNI Being König's maid

he's gone on deployments most of the time so he needs someone for house-keeping

you keep everything to his liking, every nook and cranny of the house washed, dusted and shiny for your master or as he insists you call him 'König' or just 'Kö'

and when he returns, he's too exhausted to do anything, but also too pent up with aggression and adrenaline

he needs to blow off some steam and that's when you come to his aid, his Mäuschen, greeting him with your lovely smile... and your legs spread wide open for him

you lie on the edge of the bed in your maid outfit and pull up your skirt to reveal your pretty pussy with no panties on, already soaked and ready for him, begging for him

and he removes his gloves to touch you, feel you after so long... yes he will fuck you with his gloved fingers if you ask nicely but this is not the time for that... now he needs to feel you

and he brings his hand to your heat, sliding it over your wet cunt and licking your arousal off his fingers as his throbbing cock becomes more and more desperate

and he takes out his weeping shaft impatiently, but he maintains some self control so as not to pound into you right then and there

his veiny dick slides over your soaking wet folds and he lets out a shaky sigh at the slight touch of your warm soft cunt on his desperate cock

he keeps sliding between your folds, but never fully entering you as you moan and beg him to fuck you already

but no, he needs to savor the sweet sensation, he can pound into you mercilessly later, you have all the time in the world

"Please..." you whine pathetically, "Patience, Mäuschen." he murmurs as he keeps rubbing his cock on your desperate cunt

and finally, when he decides to slide in, he pushes the tip painfully, teasingly slow as you whine and beg for more

and he gives you more... and more as he keeps shoving his fat cock inside your tight hole and you squeal out from the delicious wide stretch although there's the familiar slight sting at first since it's been so long

and he keeps pressing until his hips meet your ass and he growls, throwing his head back in sheer pleasure of finally feeling the heavenly sensation of your warm soft walls enfolding him

and he can't go slow anymore... deciding to firmly grasp the back of your thighs to spread them wider and he starts greedily ramming his thick cock inside your little slick cunt

your eager pulsating walls feel every vein, bump and ridge of his cock as he keeps viciously driving it in and out of you, reaching deep inside and hitting every single sweet spot

his hand reaches forward to toy with your puffy twitching clit, stimulating you even further as if you weren't a whimpering mess already

he groans and pants heavily like a raging animal in heat as he vigorously slams into your swollen abused cunt, "meins... alles meins" he grunts out

your loud rasped-out moans turn into high-pitched hiccups with each brutal thrust as your high approaches

and the rushing cascade of your orgasm courses through you as you cry out his name, streams of your juices squirting all over him and the bed

he grunts deeply as your quivering walls tighten around him and he babbles incoherently in german as he gets closer and closer, but you make out some words, "nur… für… mich." he punctuates each word with a harsh slam of his hips onto yours

"what?!" you ask hazily, looking at him through lidded eyes as you hear him mumble something about breeding you and making you a 'mutter'

and he spills his seed deep inside your greedy womb while a low groan leaves his throat

he flops down on you while panting and you hold him in your arms, but he quickly gathers himself to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom

he washes you surprisingly gently, completely in contrast of his harsh fucking

and he kisses every bruise on your body, but you notice the faint smug grin on his face

[haunt3dh3art]

Simon: before you and after you

★~Good ending~★

✰ Before: Simon who always woke up early

✰ After: is now sleeping till 1pm holding you in his arms

✰ Before: simon who hated the taste of sweet confectioneries.

✰ After: is now licking batter off your fingers as you bake a cake.

✰ Before: simon who was repulsed by the idea of sex.

✰ After: is now holding you underneath him as he leaves soft trails of kisses on your jawline as he thrusts inside you.

✰ Before: Simon who hated sweet scented shampoos

✰ After: is now taking some of it during deployment to smell like you

✰ Before: simon who hated the sound of people singing.

✰ After: is now laying his head on your shoulder as sing your favourite song, his dark brown eyes admiring you.

✰ Before: Simon who couldn't fall off to sleep in the presence of others

✰ After: is now sleeping soundly next to you.

✰ Before: simon who swore hes not destined for love, not after what happened to his family

✰ After: Is now chanting soft I love you's in your ears as he holds you close

✰ Before: simon who thought he’d live a life of solitude

✰ After: is now proven wrong as you jump up in the air with the largest smile spread across your face as you say ‘yes’

✰ Before: simon who thought marriage was useless.

✰ After: is now crying as he sees you at the altar with your beautiful gown flowing off your body.

✰ Before: simon who couldn’t think of life without the army

✰ After: is now a retired officer eating dinner with his wife and his teammates.

✰ Before: simon who hated the idea of having kids.

✰ After: is now holding three of his own on his lap as he reads them a story for the night.

✰ Before: simon who used to get drunk on cheap beer in hopes to forget what he had lost.

✰ After: Has now sworn to not drink, no not when he has you and the kids to protect

✰ Before: Simon who thought about death constantly.

✰ After: is now unable to think of such things because after you, he’d live

[haunt3dh3art]

[haunt3dh3art]

MORE KÖNIG HEADCANONS

his full name is Freidrich 'Fritz' Leichenberg.

Leichenberg means 'Pile of corpses'. It got him picked on in school and feared in the military. It sort of helped him shape his persona while on the battlefield.

He loves horror movies, particularly movies where the horror centers on nature (ie The Descent, The Ritual, Annihilation)

He's completely normal under the mask. Not a 10/10 handsome but not hard to look at either. It's his personality that makes him cuter or uglier to people who know him.

Dude has an APPETITE. Being massive in height and in muscle means he's just always fucking hungry.

He used to be chubby as a kid. that also got him picked on. He started playing sports around 14 years old and it got him into shape- and he was the star of the basketball team.

He doesn't let anyone see him at the gym. He works out in private.

People assume someone of his size isn't fast. He's fast as FUCK.

Being on friendly terms with him is difficult because he's not considered very pleasant. He's pushy, arrogant, and cares more about performance than intent. He WILL point out mistakes and insist that they be used as learning opportunities. "Do not fuck up like that twice."

But once he's decided he likes someone, he's out for their approval. He wants the person he respects to respect him in return.

Someone please take this poor nerd on a date that doesn't involve a lot of conversation, he doesn't know how to carry one until he's comfortable with someone.

[haunt3dh3art]

* TALK DIRTY TO ME

drabbles. their dirty talking styles.

contains. konig, ghost, and price / praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification.

—

konig is surprisingly vocal when he’s rutting into you, though it’s probably not in the way you think. most of his words come out in hushed whispers laced with obscenities. he seems to lose any sense of shame he usually has because he’s just too drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him.

“feels s’fucking good—“ he mindlessly babbles out.

his large palms are stretched out on both sides of you, fingers digging into the mattress, while he keeps you caged underneath him.

“such a greedy pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…”

you can feel his hot breath fanning your face while his darkened eyes are stuck — transfixed — on the creamy white ring that covers his cock. the sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls.

“just begging for me to fill ya up,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. the noise somehow flips a switch in him and has könig fucking into you even harder.

“s’that what ya want? need me to fill ya up, fuck a baby into this pretty cunt?”

price just exudes dominance in all aspects even with his dirty talk, his words are more praising than anything else though. he’s always coaching you through things and telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he knows it gets you off and he also just can’t help but spoil you.

“mhmm, just like that, baby.” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock.

there’s a smirk on his face that he can’t even be bothered to hide when he hears you whining at the praise. he thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. you could be such a brat sometimes, he’d have to deal with that later.

“doing so well,” he says with a groan as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. “but you don’t think you’re gonna make me cum just from this, do you?”

it doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, the tip prodding against your sweet spot just right it has your toes curling.

“feels good, doesn’t it?” his movements are slow and controlled, he knows you’re close — he can feel it — but he’s not going to reward you unless you use yours words.

“come on, princess. all you have to do is beg and i’ll have you screaming for me…”

everything ghost says is absolutely filthy, he is all about the little details. he doesn’t actually notice what he’s saying in the heat of the moment, all he knows is that his words have your cheeks flushing to a pretty shade of red, and he loves it.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me even your pussy knows it.” he practically growls. “look at this sloppy mess you’re making.”

he ruts the tip of his cock against your slit, coating your folds with his pre-cum. “jus’ gonna slip in with how wet you are..”

your arm is slung over your face as a way for you to hide your embarrassment, you know he’s right, there’s no way you could deny it. something about the way he talks to you when he’s pent up like this has your pussy throbbing.

“fuck, need to be balls deep inside this cunt.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you, the fat head of his cock slowly splitting you open as he makes you take in more and more of him.

the veins on his length rub your slick walls deliciously and it’s not surprising that you’re already twitching and creaming all over him as soon as he bottoms out.

“that’s it, there’s my slutty girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “stop using that pretty head, all you need to do is cum for me.”

[haunt3dh3art]

You really think she’s your girl. My brother in Christ she’s up in here every night twirling her hair and kicking her feet to the raunchiest “x reader” COD smut on the planet.

[haunt3dh3art]

ok but

being a part of the 141 (+konig) and having to dress up in disguise for a mission in some rich, fancy casino. the boys are waiting on you, talking amongst themselves.

you walk out wearing a slim black dress, low neckline exposing the top of your cleavage. the dress is fitted to your curves and loose at the bottom to hide the pistol strapped around your thigh. you’re looking down, smoothing out your dress, you don’t notice how every head snaps up at the first sound of your heels on the hard floor.

you don’t notice the way ghost straightens up from leaning on the table, arms still crossed and mask hiding the red creeping up to his cheeks. you don’t notice the way konig shifts awkwardly on his feet, blue eyes darting up and down not knowing where to look. you don’t notice the way gaz bites his lip, almost hard enough to break through the soft flesh and draw blood. you hear soap let out an exaggerated breath, a quick “godda-“ before he’s cut off by a smack to the back of the head from price.

you whip your head up at price’s chuckle, seeing soap rubbing the back of his head. “does this look alright? you can’t see my gun, can you?” you ask turning around to show them the back of your thigh where it’s strapped tightly. you miss the way ghost bites his fist, eyes rolling to the back of his head as soap nudges his shoulder giggling like a school boy.

[haunt3dh3art]

Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 

“Help yourself, ma’am.” 

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.” 

“It’s not your problem.” 

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 

“What message?” König asked suddenly. 

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh. 

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”

You blinked. 

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond. 

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?” 

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”

[haunt3dh3art]

Nobody loves like I do ིྀ

[haunt3dh3art]

18+ MDNI

At first, he was hesitant when you brought it up. His body tensed up, and you could see the uneasiness in his eyes the moment you mentioned that you were ready to have sex, “I’m just afraid to hurt you, dove.” he replied when you worriedly asked him what was wrong while holding his hand and it made your heart flutter at how soft and careful he was with you. But you reassured him that he could never hurt you and you trust him, also that you’re not as fragile as he might think. And with further persuasion, he finally agreed. 

So now, here you are, laid bare before him with your legs spread open, glistening pussy begging to be filled up while he takes out his hardened cock, throbbing and angry, desperate to feel your warmth wrapped around him. 

And when he finally slides inside you, as you feel the sweet wide stretch of your sensitive walls, you desperately beg him not to hold back and he agrees after witnessing your insatiable hunger for him, his own desire burning fiercely, as long as you promise to let him know if you were actually hurt. 

He sets a steady pace, eyes locked onto yours to watch your reactions, to watch you as he absolutely ruins you and he removes your hands from your face with a tsk when you shy away and hide from his intense glare. 

He lifts your legs and props them on his shoulders, making you gasp at the newly found angle as he hits all the sweet spots deep inside you, even the ones you were completely unaware of their existence. 

Each brutal thrust makes your eyes roll back as his swollen tip attacks your spongy cervix at a cruel pace. 

His huffed grunts and pants fill your ears as he mercilessly pummels his fat cock into your warm velvety walls as if on a desperate hunt for release. 

Until the moment of sheer euphoria arrives and floods your senses as you both cum together followed by the resonant symphony of your mixed moans. 

And you grab his face and kiss him with all your being, a pleased smile dancing on your lips all throughout as you share this tender moment together after the intense session, relishing how he makes you feel safe in his arms. 

[haunt3dh3art]

Y/N: Come on, I want to show you something Y/N: *turns and walks away* Ghost: Nice Y/N: That's not it but thank you