#cod mw oc

[vasyandii]

PROBLEM CHILD

KruegerNak FIC

TYPE: SET IN KRUEGER'S PERSPECTIVE, just insight into how their initial relationship was starting out.

SYNOPSIS:Before they were dating they were friends, before they were friends they were petty assholes.

WARNINGS: Crude language, Depictions of violence, Nak and Krueger are just Assholes

CHARACTERS: Sebastian Krueger, Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn, Nikolai

WORD COUNT: 1000+

CREATOR NOTES: This is something I wrote while writing Edelweiss (Changing name to be a continuation of Plumeria), it still has some stuff I need to fix but as soon as that's done with, I'll post it :3 as always, the art is done by me!

---

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" She shrieks, other unit members prying her off and away from him as she's thrashing about. "Let me go!"

Krueger stood over Nak, his chest heaving with laborious breaths. Blood trickled down from a split in his lip, mixing with the dirt and grime on his face. He was a picture of apathetic victory; battered but unbowed, a smirk playing on his grimy face as he regarded the new specialist trying to claw her way past the unit members holding her back.

His fingers prodded gingerly at the split skin of his knuckles - By now he forgot what they were beating each other for. She had spirit, but she often bites off more than she could chew.

Ignoring the burning feel on his face and possible bruised ribs – because damn that bitch packed surprisingly powerful kicks – Krueger lit up a cigarette and took deep drags, he knew his ass was in trouble as well.

---

In the office, Nikolai paced back and forth like a caged animal. His usually cool demeanor seemed to have frayed at the edges.

"Fighting in broad daylight, Again." his tone stern from behind his oak table scattered with undisclosed documents. "You're supposed to be professionals."

Krueger sat nonchalantly on one of those uncomfortable metal chairs they had around here, watching Nikolai's rant impassively through narrowed brown eyes. The cigarette - A new one, perched between his lips was all but forgotten now as ashes threatened to spill onto the floor.

"Of all people Krueger!" Nikolai finally spat out his name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "How many times do I have to remind you."

Nak sat neatly, hands in her lap. The woman looked rather pleased with herself despite her disheveled appearance as she listens to Nikolai berate him.

That was until Nikolai shifted is attention to her.

"And you!" Nikolai's gaze snapped towards Nak, Krueger swore he saw her flinch. "You think that childish outburst makes you look tough?".

Nikolai ran a hand through his greying hair, frustration clear on his face. Nak stayed silent, whether it was to save her ass or because she didn't have the right words to say.

Krueger watched from the corner of his eye as her smirk morphed into an irritatingly defiant sneer. He could almost read the silent challenge in her gaze - one that screamed she'd do it all over again if given the chance.

"I was teaching him a lesson," She said to Nikolai. "Your worker should learn to watch his mouth."

Krueger chuckled at her bold retort. He turned to meet her gaze with an insincere smile plastered on his bruised face, "Oh really?" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, drumming his fingers against the wood.

"I guess next time I should watch out for midgets in whatever jungle you crawled from." He fired back mockingly, shooting Nikolai a glance before smirking at Nak.

If they were going to throw insults now, he wasn't one to back down. "Oh look who's finally learned some big words," he quipped back swiftly.

"You-" Nak stood from her seat, hand pulling him by the collar. "I'll straighten your damn jaw, ຝະລັ່ງຂີ້ນົກ ."

"Enough!" Nikolai stopped them, silencing the room instantly. His vicious stare switched between Krueger and Nak.

She sat back down, cursing under her breath; something in a language he didn't understand. Asian probably.

"I don't give a damn about your petty squabbles," he growled, his icy gaze finally landing on Krueger again with full force of its fury. "Settle it or I will settle it for you."

The threat hung heavily in the room for what seemed an eternity before Nikolai turned away dismissively towards his desk - usually signifying that he was done with them.

Krueger rose nonchalantly from his chair and headed towards the door without so much as another word - no point further provoking the boss today after all. Nak was almost a foot out the door before Nikolai spoke again.

"Phayvanh, you stay."

What a strange name.

--

"I'm not going," She dismisses. "Nothing wrong with me. you're putting me through something that isn't worth shit."

Krueger listened in stealthily, his curiosity piqued. The stinging pain on his battered face subsided as his interest turned to the squabble he could overhear from Nikolai's office.

"It's not up for debate, Phayvanh," Nikolai snapped back curtly. "Your outburst clearly shows that you need those sessions."

"I can work!" she countered defiantly. "You are fucking making me dead weight!"

"Watch your language," Nikolai's voice turned stern, "You are an investment Phayvanh, and Chimera does not throw away investments lightly. You will go to those sessions."

Krueger chuckled softly against the wall. Oh, this would be fun to watch play out. He could see himself using her rebellious streak for his own amusement in the future.

"Investment? He's not an investment," She didn't need to offer a name for Krueger to know she was talking about him. "I don't need those sessions if you just get rid if him."

Krueger's smirk dropped, replaced by a scowl. The nerve of that little shit. His fists clenched involuntarily before he quickly forced himself to relax.

"He's one of our best."

Krueger felt an odd sense of satisfaction hearing those words from Nikolai.

"Whatever," Nak stood up to leave. "I'll go. Let's see how long it'll take for you to stop wasting your money."

---

It's midnight. Quiet other than her footsteps, something he's gotten used to since she got the job a month ago. Sometimes he could hear rummaging in community kitchen. He never bothered to look until now because, who gives a shit?

She doesn't sleep, she doesn't eat. What the hell is she doing?

Krueger sat silently in the dark, he rolled his eyes at himself for even caring enough to consider it. Nak had been quite the nuisance since she got here but her antics were starting to catch his interest.

Tossing his blanket to the side, he sighed and stood up from his bed, deciding impulsively to investigate whatever it was that she was doing this late at night.

He moved silently through the dimly lit corridors, making his way towards the source of the sound. He was aware that he was stalking her like prey in its natural habitat, but a part of him justified it as needing to know what she could be up to.

His footsteps were heavy against the cold stone floor, he saw light flickering under a door down the hallway - the kitchen.

He saw Nak turn sharply towards the direction of the sound he had made, her dark eyes wide in surprise.

Krueger froze momentarily, cursing himself internally for being so careless. He was usually silent in his movements - the fact that he hadn't been careful enough this time irked him immensely.

"Relax," His voice was low, laced heavily with mockery. "It's just me."

For a moment, they locked eyes and then she went back to whatever it was she'd been doing before he came.

Nak tried her best to ignore Krueger and his staring from the table. Her table, he knew that - it was fun to fuck with her.

He got his answer for what she's been doing, though; just making coffee.

Leaning back in her chair, he watched Phayvanh move around as she made the brew.

"You don't sleep much?" He finally broke the silence, curiosity getting better of him.

She replied curtly. "Don't speak to me."

He chuckled at her vain attempt to control their interaction, "So bossy… Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to give orders?" His voice was rich with sarcasm as he rested his boots on the table, blatantly ignoring any boundaries she may have established over 'her' table.

"Why are you here," Nak carefully stirs her coffee with a spoon. The handle looked like it would snap by how tight she was gripping it.

"Curiosity," Krueger replied casually, watching the way she handled her cup. The concentration on her face was a stark contrast to the fiery defiance he'd seen earlier. "It's late and you're always up… thought I might join."

He hesitated momentarily before adding in a softer tone, "And maybe to piss you off, just a tad bit." A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he looked over at her.

"Go fuck yourself," She was going nowhere near that table when he just planted his ass in her seat. "ຝະລັ່ງ."

Krueger's smirk widened at her sharp reply. He was familiar with many languages, though he had to admit the dialect she spoke got lost on him.

"I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that," He drawled out lazily as his eyes glinted in amusement. "Want to run that by me again?"

Nak leaned down to his eye level like she was about to say something. Instead she opted to pouring her coffee on his lap.

---

For a split second, he froze in surprise before jumping up swiftly, uttering a guttural curse.

"You little bitch!" Krueger reached for her arm, roughly pulling her towards him to look into her defiant eyes.

"What the fuck was that for?" He spat out through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the burning sensation on his legs.

"I told you to go fuck yourself didn't I?" She mocked, waving her mug in hand. "You should listen to-"

"Do you two you what time it is?"

Nikolai. Great.

---

Krueger's attention snapped immediately to Nikolai who now stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes flickering between Krueger and Phayvanh as he tried to assess the situation.

"She fucking poured coffee on me!" His grip tightened around her arm.

"He pissed himself." She just stated simply, hiding the mug behind her back. "Must've startled him or something."

Krueger blinked, appalled by her audacity.

"You fucking liar-" He began, but was quickly cut off by Nikolai.

"Enough," The older man barked out sharply, turning his icy glare towards Krueger first before it settled on Phayvanh.

"Why are both of you up this late? And why the hell is there coffee all over my floor?" His intense gaze bore into Phayvanh in particular, as if already suspecting her role in the entire mess.

"Piss." She corrected.

"Fuck you," Krueger growled at her under his breath. His calloused hand still clamped tight around her arm.

"Enough!" Nikolai repeated, exasperated. He sighed heavily and covered his face with a tired hand, "Clean this up and I don't want to see either one of you till sunrise."

With that he turned on his heel and left them alone once again in the dimly lit kitchen.

---

Nikolai out of sight, Nak took out the empty coffee mug she hid behind her back.

The sudden bonk on his head caught him off guard. He quickly let go of her arm, and rubbed the back of his head where she'd hit him, meeting her gaze with an irritated scowl. Wasn't enough to seriously hurt him like her punches, but still hurt nonetheless.

"You got some serious fucking issues, you know that?" He snarled at her.

Nak gave him a sidelong glance.

"I could've rendered you a vegetable with that. Consider it my apology," She snagged a rag from the counter. "Only because I feel bad for Nikolai."

Krueger watched her with a guarded expression as he grabbed another rag for himself.

"Wooow, " He couldn't help but quip back sarcastically. Despite everything, he had to admit there was something strangely interesting about Phayvanh's unpredictable disposition. "Such generosity from you is truly overwhelming."

"Hm, You're funny." She notes off handedly, cleaning the floor.

His sarcastic snort echoed in the small shared kitchen, "Yeah, and you're a fucking delight."

TRANSLATIONS

ຝະລັ່ງຂີ້ນົກ (Farang Khi Nok) - Literally translates to "Bird shit foreigner", basically "White Trash"

ຝະລັ່ງ (Farang) - Foreigner, specifically one of European descent. In this context it's used as a derogatory term.

[kukuuu]

Ghost napping with his roommate

[league-of-sam]

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART ONE

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

2 / 3 / 4 / 5

You'd been the new kid on the block, over and over again.

Late to training, late into the 141, and now, late into Task Force KorTac with a very special, and very specific mission.

A mission that was built for you.

A mission that required the utmost professionalism.

A mission that required somehow pulling a 6’10” brick shithouse out of his own head and into a team - but you didn’t know that, yet.

Oh, and fuck, did you protest it. Over and over and over again. It had taken you months to settle with the 141 boys, and now you were being shipped off, away from your family.

“You’re really good at that, uh, the empathy shit.” Price had said, placing a warming hand on your shoulder.

“I’m a soldier, Price. And you know how much I struggle around new people.” You spoke, the latter half of the sentence said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, but you’re good at, ya know, feeling." He replied, fingers lifted to place air quotes around the word, "You got Ghost to come out of his shell!”

At that moment, your lieutenant entered the room, making his way over at the mention of his callsign.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so send him! Lord knows he needs the practise.”

“Watch ya mouth, little one.” Ghost said, stepping next to you.

“Just because you’re a foot taller than me does not mean you get to bully me for it, Simon.”

Despite what people thought about the giant, skull-mask-wearing man, he was soft and caring; the relationship you had built together was that of siblings, and he had your back more than any ordinary brother would.

Ghost’s eyes were dark under his mask, but you knew he was smirking, “Not my fault you’re a short arse.”

“Yet I’m still a better sniper than you.”

“No, you bloody well aren’t-”

“Children! Please…” Price interrupted the sibling-like bickering; fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”

Ghost poked your side, mumbling, “Yeah, (Y/L/N), focus on your task.”

“Go have Soap suck your dick some more, sounds like you need to relax.” You mumbled back.

Your retort had Ghost choking, the sharp intake of air he made as his head whipped to look at you causing him to cough relentlessly. Price shook his head, waving him off to sort himself out.

It wasn’t exactly a secret within the team that there was something a little less savoury going on with your lieutenant and Sergeant MacTavish, especially when the latter would constantly confide in you about his crush.

Especially, after what had happened with Hassan and the missiles.

But, thanks to your meddling, you had been able to get Ghost to open up, and it seemed like the two were much happier.

Not that you’d dare make a comment about it in front of anyone but Price and Ghost himself.

You valued your life, thank you very much.

And as much as Ghost loved you like a sister; he would absolutely kill you.

As Ghost walked away, you shot him the sweetest smile you could muster, resulting in him throwing you the finger.

“Look, you’re the only one I think can get through to him, kid. The task force needs you.” Price continued.

“I applied to be here, sir. I worked damn hard to make it onto the 141.”

He sat you down, taking your hands in his, “This isn’t permanent. I promise, we’ll be here waiting when ya get back, because I want to work with this guy. He’s bloody good, so I need you to make sure he can play well with others."

You sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility and leaving your family crushing your shoulders, "And you are my best sniper., Karma.”

Price had whispered that last part, for your ears only, a smirk across his bearded lips. You smiled widely, a giggle falling from your mouth.

It felt good to get that recognition from your superior.

He wasn’t wrong; the reason you made it onto the 141 in the first place was your incredible skill as a marksman…well, markswoman. You’d earned the call sign Karma from Soap, who watched you in a training drill he ran.

You’d been perched up high, completely hidden, and any enemy that your team missed in combat, you cleaned up, never missing a shot. Like the saying goes, if you can’t get ‘em, karma will.

It was also suitable for those who underestimated you. Every person you’d gone up against in hand-to-hand training doubted your abilities due to your smaller frame, but fuck, did you prove them wrong every time.

Broken noses here.

Fractured limbs there.

You were Karma, and no one messed with you.

“So, think you can do this for me?” Price said.

“Affirmative, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, you walked, albeit with a little sadness, back to your quarters, packing a duffle of your things. Price had said you’d only be away for a couple of months tops, depending on how the mission went.

At the car, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and the rest of the 141 were there to say goodbye, all of them giving you a squeeze as they wrapped you in their arms.

“You be good, alright?” Ghost had whispered in your ear, “See you when ya come home.”

“It almost sounds like you’re gonna miss me, Lt.” You quipped, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”

“He’ll miss ye, bonnie.” Soap cut in, lifting you off the ground, “As will I. Don’t forget me in the excitement of the big bad KorTac boys, will ya?”

“I could never, Soap. You’re my number one!”

With one final wave and various counts of love you’s, you were stuffed into the car with Price and Laswell, the two of them escorting you personally.

Your heart hung low as your team got smaller and smaller behind you, but you were honoured to have been sought out by another team.

KorTac.

Didn’t quite have the same ring to it as 141, but it’d do.

The journey was short from the training camp in London, as you were dropped off at Heathrow, where a private chopper awaited you. From there, you were shipped off to a covert facility in the mountains of Hungary.

The scenery was beautiful, but your nerves bubbled up inside you.

With a silent nudge from the pilot, you were shoved out of the chopper, greeted by several members of your new team.

“Sergeant (Y/L/N), yes?” the man said, a heavy Hungarian accent lacing his words.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You stuck your hand out, “But you can call me Karma, whatever suits.”

“Fender.” the man said, shaking your hand, “I run things here at KorTac. This is my second in command, Roze.”

A woman stepped forward from behind him, also taking your hand in hers, “We’re honoured to have you here, Karma. Heard a lot about you.”

“Well, I’m honoured that you guys wanted me.”

The pleasantries continued until you were being guided to their facilities, being allowed to drop off your bags before rushing to the tactical room, where the rest of the team was waiting for your arrival.

You were introduced swiftly, barely remembering anyone’s names before you were guided once again to another place, ending up in Fender’s office. He offered you a seat, sitting opposite at his desk.

“So, what exactly did Captain Price tell you of your purpose here?”

“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that I was needed because you have a soldier here that needs…help? And that there was a mission coming that required my particular skill.”

“Ahh, yes. That would be Kӧnig…” he sighed, pulling out a file and dropping it in front of you.

You opened the file, to find a picture of a man, a sniper hood that you recognised adorning his face. Scanning the information, you found that he was Austrian, joining the task force here through the KSK, basically being used as a front man for the teams on-ground.

“Kӧnig has…issues. He came here wanting to be a sniper, but, as you’ll see when you meet him, his physical attributes do not allow it. He didn’t take that well, but he excels as part of the contact team.”

“So, what exactly is the problem?”

Fender sighed, leaning forward in his chair, “He seems to have some problems with anxiety. I was informed that you used to suffer with such issues but were able to overcome them.”

You scoffed a little, “So, I’m here to be a glorified babysitter?”

You felt bad for this Kӧnig.

You couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to be a sniper and then have it taken away from you because of your physicality.

That would fucking suck.

“We just need someone to calm him, teach him control. A lot of the other team members are so scared of him they can barely stand being in the same room.”

“Arseholes…” you whispered under your breath, “That’s hardly fair, sir. By the looks of things, he is an essential member of this team.”

“That maybe so, but I can’t have my soldiers acting that way off the field. Unfortunately, if you cannot help him, he will no longer be welcome on any task force.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

How fucking unfair.

Before you could say anything, the office door opened. You stood to greet Roze but gasped slightly at the giant shadow behind her.

Stood in front of you, was a complete mountain of a man.

He had to duck down considerably to make it through the doorframe. Every single inch of him was huge. Ghost used to make you feel intimidated and tiny, but this…this was fucking ridiculous. Kӧnig had to have been at least 6’10”, and the size of his muscles would put both Ghost and Soap to shame.

Truly, this was a big, big man.

Oh, you thought, the sniper hood stayed on?

“Ah, Kӧnig, there you are. Thank you, Roze, you may go.”

“Sir.” She nodded, smiling to you before leaving the room and shutting it behind her.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kӧnig spoke, barely sparing you a glance as he addressed his superior. A thick accent tainted his English, but he was well-spoken.

Fender stood, moving around the desk to the two of you, “Yes. This is Karma, she’s the new addition to the team, and will be your new…partner, as such.”

“Uh, p-partner, sir?”

Fender nodded.

“Hi.” You spoke, a soft smile on your features as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N/N), or Karma, whatever you like really.”

Your hands shook from nervousness as you rambled on.

New people always made you anxious, but this…this was intense.

Was it the accent?

The sheer size of him?

You couldn’t tell if you were intimidated, anxious, or frankly, maybe even a little turned on.

“Kӧnig.” He grunted but refused to meet your hand.

It hung in the air for an embarrassing amount of time, causing you to clear your throat as you lowered it, heat rising to your cheeks.

Yeah, this guy’s people skills were shite.

“Uh, right. Pleasure to meet you.” You finally said in an effort to shake off the awkwardness.

With that, Fender led the two of you back out, and towards the training centre. As you passed various soldiers, many of them looked to you, whispering.

By now, stares and such were just water off a duck’s back for you. Being part of the infamous 141 always brought a lot of unwanted attention. But that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable, nonetheless.

Kӧnig, on the other hand, walked slightly behind you and Fender, his eyes not leaving the back of your body. He was used to the stares and whispers, the team never failing to make him feel like a freak of nature on the daily.

But he didn’t care at this moment.

He was fascinated by you.

The bright pink slivers of colour that peaked out from beneath the rest of your hair intrigued him; he was sure that went against regulation. You were also so sweet and tiny, the sniper rifle strapped to your back was almost as big as you were.

So, you were a sniper.

Why the fuck would Fender pair him with a sniper? Like he didn’t get mocked enough!

And now here you were, walking around with your head held high, like you fucking owned the place.

His own personal fucking babysitter.

The more he looked at you, the more his heart filled with rage, gloved fists balling at his sides.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Hi, just want you to know that I LOVE BARA, he's beautiful 🥺. I just wanna know Where is he come from, East Java? Central Java? West Java? DKI? DIY? Or outside Java?

Don't get me wrong, i just get the Surabayan Vibes from him ✌️😔. And in your last post of him, he's definitely has a 'Kuli Jawa' vibes.

Sorry for my nonsense, I just love him so much ❤️

Hello!! OMG AN ASK ABOUT BARA LFG

and WRONG, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong ❌

His full name is Barandos Tarigan, and yep, if you're Indonesian you'll get it! He's from Medan, North Sumatera 👁️👁️. Bara is NOT a 'kuli Jawa' he's a 'KULI BATAK' 😎 LAE-LAE GOMOS NI 😎

He's actually a spin-off version of my Call of Duty OC with the same name (because I'm uncreative like that ok)

Anyway have this sketch of them together! CoD Bara is basically just the older and colder version of the comic Bara 😂

Glad you love him!

[wiggy-worm]

I love how ginormous wolves are compared to husky’s so here’s könig and angel as dawgs

[lundenloves]

𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥

{✧} effectively a part two to when it rains it pours, written through the godsend time passage that are seasons.

↳ no warnings | 3.4k | f!oc

part one | masterlist | taglist | request info

{✧} i’m on a mad writers block atm. if this seems off and you’re thinking, yeah i can fucking tell, don’t tell me or i’ll digest acid. thanks. it’s also unedited so i’ll just see myself out if that’s alright? it’s been good, cheers guys.

Winter 

A long, sharp and cold exhale was taken by the winter breeze. Frosting mid air into an icy vapor and Simon rubbed his hands together to no avail, brushing the uneven snowfall off his broad shoulders before entering the moodily lit coffee shop. Four in the afternoon had never been so dark. Eclectic lights strewn from the ceiling and above the counter, doing their best at creating an ambience that almost irked him. 

He shrugged the feeling off, rolling his shoulders habitually and walking to the counter where he received a hearty, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” The voice was warm, intertwined with genuine sincerity which seemed rare these days. Simon shoved a hand in his pocket, reaching for his wallet in preparation. “What can I get you?” The genuineness sounded and he looked up, locking eyes with her.  

The tips of his ears grew red and he wiped at the side of his nose in subconscious anxiety. He was the first to notice, of course, eyes glued to her, frozen in his position with no words available to roll off his tongue. “Just—“ He cleared his throat. “A coffee, yeah? Black.” 

Thea hadn’t recognised him at first. Taking his card payment with ease, and turning around to start his drink with practiced finesse. It was too busy for her to think about his gruff accent, the familiarity of it pushed too far back in her head. Even still, his physique hadn’t dared to haunt her mind ever since that one night two weeks ago. Simon stood, hands in pockets, eyes averted to the floor in his best attempts to remain inconspicuous. 

Although that act was shot down point blank with three words. “Order for Simon.” Thea had shouted, pushing the sleeved takeaway cup across the counter. “Enjoy.” She followed, locking eyes with him when he had cringed at her acknowledgement. His otherwise unused first name dampened to the same depths of his callsign. One a killer, the other a cold heart. The difference was uncanny. 

He gave nothing back, taking the cup and turning his back on her, walking away out the door without so much as a look back. “Christ.” Came a mutter, cigarette stuck to his lip with long stomps through the street. He began to wonder why he was short on luck, and just who he pissed off to reward bad karma. Never once had he come across the same girl twice after taking her home. It wasn’t because he was a sleaze, it was because he was too busy and slept with too few people. The paper cup in his hand was small against his palms, rolling it across them to catch sight of sharpie on the inner sleeve. 

The smoke tumbled from his lip haphazardly with both hands occupied, cigarette clung solely to his bottom lip and locked with his top. The sleeve slipped off easily, his brows furrowed upon ripping it to see the inside. Ten digits. Her fucking number. Scribbled loosely with the words, ‘You better call’ Simon’s shoulders lifted for a brief second of amusement, shoving it into his pocket without a second thought. 

It was only when he was home, folding his pockets inside out that the paper sleeve grabbed his attention fully. Eyes narrowed at the lone sight of it, twirling it around his fingers before reluctantly pushing the digits into his phone. 

Spring 

Days, weeks and months had gone by. The number sat untouched in his phone, his steps avoided the coffee shop like the fucking plague, and his eyes squeezed shut to forget about her touch. Even worse, she was all he could think about. And it royally pissed him off. It had been one night. One night, not years. So why did the glass in his hand push a frown across his brow, sliding it to the back of the cupboard with a sigh. 

The phone felt like a weight when he had taken it from his pocket, placing it face down on the counter. There wasn’t any particular reason why she had been on his mind so often, no reason why his phone should be an offensive thing to look at. But it was. Somehow. Even after months. 

He blinked down at it, the vibrate pinging off to indicate a silenced call. A noise between a sigh and a laugh left his mouth, the screen headed by an unknown number. 

Simon’s own reflection was caught in the phone screen, dark circles under his eyes indicative of the unstructured time off. The phone rang out and he blew a raspberry to himself, sliding it across the counter to the other side before reaching to pick it back up seconds later. 

The coffee sleeve was scrunched up in his right fist, dropped back to the counter in its near ripped glory. The only journey it knew was from drawer to counter, counter to drawer. And now — it stayed on the marble, spread wide by his left hand as his right punched the number to create a contact rather than a lone number. “Right.” He said through an exhale, dropping the phone back down and taking a few spacing steps backward as if it were an explosive. “Right.” It was repeated, this time with more assurance, his shoulders rolled backward in attempts to alleviate whatever imaginary stress was on them. 

He typed many words, deleting every one, determined to concoct the perfect introduction for several minutes until falling back to a measly, ‘Hello.’ And even then, as soon as his thumb had tapped send, he wanted to delete it. And he would’ve, could’ve even — if only a reply hadn’t came within fucking seconds. 

Two words. ‘Hi, Simon.’ 

His jaw tightened at the bubbles indicative of her typing, watching with red ears as they grew in size, falling and restarting all over again. His knuckles tapped the marble in anxious wait, locking his ankles together. 

‘You alright?’ 

A divot appeared in his brow at the words, leaning forward to type a reasonable, ‘I’m fine.’ Although it didn’t quite make it when he had jammed the backspace button, restarting his sentence. ‘Yeah. Are you?’ Phone dropped, hands massaging across his temples in a futile effort to rub out the building tension behind his eyes. 

‘Can you phone?’ 

The question didn’t give any time before her name had appeared atop the screen, his new contact in digital evidence. Simon steeled himself before accepting the call, pressing it onto speaker and leaning his palms down on the counter. 

“Didn’t think you’d text.” Her voice echoed through the phone, simultaneously collapsing and flaring any doubt in him. 

“Didn’t think I would either.” 

Summer 

Three confident knocks penetrated Simon’s silence. Only a brief pause before they had pecked once more, knocking in a continuing succession before he had grunted in response. “Right, fucking hell.” It was two in the morning, not a respectable time to be bashing on doors — then again, nor was any time a good one to be doing as such.

The hard wrapping of the door was only cut short after he had swung it open, eyes squinting at the bright hall light. Simon puffed out his chest, ready to give whomever had nearly woken up the whole building a telling before his eyes fell onto her. Her once again. Swaying and lazily smiling up at him, her hands flat against his broad chest.

“Thea.” His voice was quiet, taking her hands from his chest and dropping them back to scantily dressed sides. “What are you—“

“I wanted to see you.” She slurred, walking past him into the flat and smiling widely. “I missed you. You— big, broody man.” Her head shook with each word, almost punctuating herself, watching intently as he shut the door and pressed his back against it. Eyes red with lack of sleep, his chest bare from the contradicting evidence of rest attempts. 

“You’re drunk.” He stated obviously, reasserting his composure before walking to the sink and grabbing her a glass of water. “Have that, yeah? Stay here.” His hand grazed her hip upon walking past, looking backward over his shoulder before wandering back into his room to make the bed. 

Thea followed him instead, glass left on the table as her feet stumbled behind him to the familiar room. “You don’t need to make it.” She was sure to announce her presence before touching him, hand rubbing his shoulder. 

Simon ignored her, unintentionally shrugging her touch off and rounding the bed to shake the duvet and puff it up. He was silent in his activities, grabbing clothes from a drawer and shoving them onto the bed, blinking twice at her. “Put them on. Give me that.” He nodded toward her dress. 

“Can you—“ 

His hand was a gentle touch on her back, eyes refusing hers that were staring up at him as he reached for the zip. Thea slipped out of the dress entirely, bare chest now pressed against him to gain his warmth. “Sorry.” He mumbled, attempting to take a backward step and gathering her dress in his hands. “I’ll leave this here, yeah?”

She cocked her head, staring at the clothes he had left for her. “Where are you going?” Her words dragged, body suddenly feeling heavy on her feet. 

“Nowhere.” He then left the room, leaving Thea to pick up his clothes, eyeing each garment and marveling at how big they were against her. She slipped the t-shirt on and Simon padded back through, pushing a hand through his hair. “Tell me if you’re going to be sick.” He said it bluntly. “I’ll just be in the other room.” 

“Doing what?” She challenged, sitting on the bed and looking up at him as he pulled a hoodie on. His tattoo disappearing under the fabric, her eyes dropped to her feet. 

Simon shifted, blatantly ignoring her question. “Tell me if you need anything.” He left the door open, leaving her to fall back onto the bed with a sigh, then a giggle, followed by another one. 

They had been talking on the phone for months, only seeing one another in person once more since that night. Aside from that, Simon actively avoided seeing her in person — he wasn’t against it, just, insecure of the whole thing. So now, as she had showed up to his flat arse-drunk in the middle of the night, a responsibility waved over him and he wasn’t sure whether to like it or hate it. Hence his distance. 

Thea on the other hand, majorly enjoyed the fact she was wound up in his sheets, the masculine smell surrounding her as she pulled the duvet up, basking in his scent. 

She didn’t remember falling asleep, nor did she remember the bed dipping at some point during the night, but evidently it had. Simon was next to her. Fully asleep and fucking snoring, it was what had woken her up. That and the pounding headache that was seeping through the back of her skull, sitting up with a mighty frown. 

It would’ve been a sight for sore eyes, her sat up in his bed, brows knitted tightly together while she felt around for her dress. “You alright?” Simon mumbled from beside her, his tone coated in sleep from the rasp. Thea had zero recollection of what had happened last night, how she ended up here most of all. It was supposed to be work drinks.

“Did we fuck?” Her arms dropped in exaggeration, although instantly regretting it when her head exploded in pain. Simon shook his head, turning onto his back and sighing in tiredness. 

“You showed up.” He cleared his throat, attempting to eliminate the croak of his morning voice. “Drunk.”

“And you put me to bed?” She turned to him, catching his squint from the sun reflection. He had caught colour across his nose and cheeks from the last day of good weather, even his neck was tanned considering he rarely showed that much skin. 

“You put yourself to bed.” 

“What time?”

“Three.”

“Three? Fuck I am sorry.” Thea would’ve laughed at herself had the headache not continued its rage. “Must’ve wanted to see you.” The laugh came anyway, turning on her side to face him. Simon shrugged, eyes roaming across her features. 

“You did say so.” His brow ticked upward teasingly. 

“Well, you’re lying here with me by choice so you must’ve missed me. Actually.” She smiled the best she could given the awful hangover and Simon’s eyes landed on her lips. 

“I’m here so you didn’t choke to death.” Her scoff forced a slight smile from him, one so minute you could easily blink and miss it. “On your own sick.”

“Yeah I got that part. Thanks.” A beat. “I wasn’t sick though, was I?” 

“You were. Everywhere.” His tone was light, turning onto his back and smiling to himself. 

“You bastard. No I wasn’t.” She sat up, leaning over his chest to look him in the eye when his smile had turned downward into a boyish one. “Exactly. You’re here because you wanted to be here.” She playfully nudged his shoulder, Simon’s eyes remained on her lips, only leaving to find her own stare. There was pristine silent communication between them, Thea pressing a kiss to his cheek before he had taken her jaw and gently guided it so he could kiss her properly. 

It was soft, and tender but most of all safe. She pressed her forehead against his, the sound of them pulling apart felt sweet. “Can you get me paracetamol?” She stifled a laugh. 

Autumn

“You say that like you’re not here all the time.” Simon grumbled, his eyes falling above her and to the organised chaos of his living room. Thea had pretty much commanded the space, strewn with all of her things and comforts. Something that happened gradually, because she really was here all the time. 

“I’m not. I work.” She said, pushing herself backward via two hands on his chest. “Like, all the time.” It wasn’t too far from the truth, though the way Simon stifled a laugh forced one from herself. 

“Where do you sleep?” His brow quirked, turning to continue cleaning the dishes that were discarded. 

Thea scoffed, “That’s— no. That’s because my flat is years away from the shop. Yours is convenient.” She punctuated the end of her sentence by clicking her tongue. 

“It’s convenient eh?” He dropped a palm onto the counter, looking down at her. “You send parcels here too.” The slight curve of his lip was one that she scrunched her nose up at, shrugging and leaning past him to reach for a mug. 

“Like I said. Convenient.” She nodded her head with each action that went into making tea. Flicking the kettle on and swiping a teabag from the cupboard beside him, eventually standing against the counter with her arms crossed. “You know?”

“Oh I know.” Simon teased, gesturing toward the stacked up parcels on the counter she had gathered to open. “I’ve signed for about ninety.”

“Have you fuck ninety.” She looked up at him with an amused smile, tilting her head. “There’s only eight. Could’ve been worse.” Simon held a knife out for her to open the boxes with, turning around to watch the destruction haul commence. “There’s actually one or two things for you,” Her hands shook a box. “I think.”

“Happy days.” He said flatly, locking eyes with her after she had scoffed. “I don’t need anything.” Came a shrug. 

“You need everything.”

He shook his head, squeezing his opposite bicep and resting a hand against his cheek. 

Thea cut the first box open, dumping the clothes from it before tossing it to the counter next to Simon. “I’ll try it all on later.” She said while pulling a new hoodie over herself, “Yeah, it’ll probably all fit.” The pile was shoved to the side to make room for another box. 

She spun it round, taking the knife and gasping. “This is your one. Like, all of it.” The cardboard was shoved toward him and she leant her elbows on the counter to stare. A brow of uncertainty was lifted, cutting the tape and unenthusiastically pulling out three shirts. 

“Open them.” She bit on her bottom lip with a smile, reaching out for one of three. “They’re like— standard. But that good material you like, let me feel.” She pulled the packet open, nodding at the quality. “Try it on.”

“It’s just a shirt.” He said although complied instantaneously, discarding his current shirt. “How much was it?” Thea moved to stand closer to him, her arm touching against his bare chest upon reaching for the tag. “Forty-odd?”

“Around there.” She watched as he pulled it on, her hands reaching to smooth it out across his shoulders. “It’s nice.”

“I didn’t need it.”

“Yeah, thanks Thea,” She imitated his gruff voice. “And I say, you’re welcome Simon.” Her smile opened an opportunity for his own, leaning back from the counter to inspect the shirts further. 

Winter

Their second Winter was early dominated by arguments over Christmas decorations. Simon had never once put up or even had such things, for a number of reasons. One being, he was rarely here for Christmas — opting to spend it on voluntary deployment or training of new recruits so as to not be alone. Two, he didn’t even like them. It felt and looked like clutter. Not to mention the effort of putting them all up just to inevitably take them down a month later. 

He didn’t and point blank refused to see the point. 

Of course, until Thea had almost fell headfirst into the flat door trying to knock on it. A huge plastic box labeled ‘Xmas’ was by her feet, face red from lifting it up three flights of stairs. “If I took all of this up them stairs and you say no, i’ll kick off, Simon Riley.” 

He silently picked the box up, shutting the door with a nudge of his foot and dropping it with a thud to the livingroom floor. “It’s not going up.” Though his words lacked certainty, knowing that the woman opposite him would stop at nothing. 

“Oh, but it is.” She nodded sarcastically, falling to her knees before the box and pulling various ornaments out. 

Then there was the new year. And that was another battle, not necessarily an argument but a protest of sorts. One that Simon refused to concede to when Thea had said she was going out on the lash. “Well what’re you gonna do then?” She laughed, leaning on the doorframe. 

“Sleep.” He answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s just another night.” His nonchalance sometimes felt like a weapon.

Thea nodded slowly, taking her step backward out the door. “Yeah alright, see you later yeah?” Her laugh came when he had shook his head, closing the step between them to kiss her cheek and ruffle her hair that had taken an hour to do. “Oh nevermind,” She pushed him back. “You won’t make it out the fucking door after doing that.” 

However, of course, he had shown up to the bar she was at only two hours later. Begrudgingly shrugging his jacket off and making a beeline for her amidst the crowd of people she was with. 

“Oh, oh my god.” Thea had drunkenly slurred and cackled at the sight of him, immediately sticking to his side and looking up at him. “I told you, I told you— that you would come.” Her finger pointed toward his face and he pushed it away, sliding an arm around her shoulder to steady her swaying. “Try this.” Her drink was shoved to his lip. 

“What is it?” He took the glass, instinctively grimacing at the clear liquid. 

“Try it.” She leant her forehead on his shoulder for all of two seconds before looking up to see his reaction. A squint. At best. “You don’t like it? It’s nice—“

“Awful.” He slid the glass back across the bar and took the offered water. “Have that instead, yeah?”

“Oh shit,” Her hand tapped his cheek twice, gesturing he leaned downward before she had managed to lock her lips on his. Simon hummed against the kiss, pulling back and pressing his thumb to her jaw. “It’s new year! You’re my kiss. Fucking— we missed it, you missed it.” 

“Just another day to me.” 

this is literally just no plot written life shit. wait there a second while i let out a guttural scream.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox

when it rains, it pours enjoyers (hello): @sofasoap @illyanam1011 @lez-zuha @ipoopedmypants47 @queen-ilmaree @yellowscuderia @luvfromkat

i couldn't tag like ten people overall, i apologise. as always, if you would like to be removed from the taglist dm me! reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if no one pats me on the head every now and then i'll sit in a hole.

[bl-beater]

My favorite boys

[asteroiidx]

Im so coocoo for this man

[konigsblog]

thinking VERY hard about retired price, who takes it easy after 20+ years of keeping his body in constant shape, letting himself put on some pudge and achieve the Ultimate Dadbod!!! i just know he smells so good and musky after doing lawnwork (and other dad activities) outside in the summer i KNOW it :((((( theres just so much of him to love!!!!<3

bonus points if youre his neighbor and have memorized his schedule so you know EXACTLY when that man goes to mow the lawn and get all sweaty and musky and even more sweaty. need him to go from outside straight to the bedroom to put his entire body on me as he puts me in a mating press and drains his musky balls in me :((((((

the hot, boiling sun heating up his body, sweat forming and glistening on his skin, dripping from his forehead as he continued to mow your lawn for you. you couldn't deny it; you had a crush on him, it felt silly, as if you were a teenager again and crushing on your classmate. he's older than you, you're in your early 20s whilst he's in his early 50s, the agegap feeling like taboo.

but you can't help it :(( you didn't think he would feel the same, but when you offered money for helping you out, he seemed to have other ideas. your back pressed against the material of your couch, his length thrusting into you roughly, the tip of his cock slamming into you with such force it knocked the wind from your lungs.

your legs trembling with your arousal, slick running down your thighs, gasping for air as he continued to rut into you. his beard scratching at your neck, leaving hickeys along your skin, cum spurting from the tip of his dick, draining his musky balls and filling you sososo nicely with his potent semen :(((

[imjustsocute]

🐸🐸🐸

Please, don’t scare him Kettu.

[vasyandii]

Could you believe she’s 5’2.

[kukuuu]

Ghost got himself a clingy roommate (he secretly loves It)

[league-of-sam]

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART FOUR

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

1 / 2 / 3 / 5

It was mission day.

Training over the last two weeks had been exhausting, but the payoff was right around the corner.

The mission was simple – get in, get the hostages, get out.

Fender had been given intel of another AQ human trafficking den on the border of Serbia, and it was KorTac’s job to get them out and get them to safety.

Simple enough, and something this task force has done a hundred times over. That didn’t stop the nerves from creeping up from within you, though. it didn't feel right, being on a mission without the 141, without your family.

How much could you truly trust the people around you?

Now you sat, clutching your rifle to your chest, surrounded by the rest of the team; all of you clad in the best tactical gear that Laswell had to offer.

You scanned the room, desperate for a glimpse of the giant man that had clouded both your heart and your brain, frowning when you came up empty.

Kӧnig had been…odd to deal with.

But you were quick to learn that that was just him. He was sweet, quiet, kind, thoughtful, fidgety. It made you like him all the more, and you were so incredibly bad at hiding it. Ghost almost had a heart attack when you admitted about your little crush, the man had to be held back by Soap, Gaz, and Price to stop him ‘coming down there to get you and shoot him’.

And people said Price was the father of the group!

After spending three hours convincing Ghost you were just fine, Kӧnig had knocked your door, ready for his next lesson. You’d made an agreement – he opened up to you, working on his issues with social interaction, and you would teach him to be a better sniper.

It worked, you thought, and you were finally breaking down some of his walls.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so quiet and closed off?” You asked tentatively, putting your rifle back into its protective carrier.

“Was, how you say, bullied? As a child, I was always big, and the other children made many comments and hurt me.”

Your heart hurt hearing him say this. You were no stranger to bullies, having been picked on your entire childhood also.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“You do?” he said, voice surprised.

You smiled softly, “Yeah. Kids aren’t nice. Adults are even worse. Still happens every now and then, people underestimating me or thinking I don’t deserve to be here.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It is. I can understand why you wear the hood all the time, keeps people away from something else they can use.”

“Ja.”

“I sometimes wish I had something, but Ghost always told me not to go down that road. He says it’s a hard one to come back from.”

“It is true. It’s scary, revealing yourself.”

“I’m sure it is, but it’s scary wanting to cover up, too.”

“Why would you want to?”

You frowned, looking away from him as you continued to pack your things, “Because I don’t like the way I look. Sometimes, I wish people couldn’t see me.”

He looked at you, dumbfounded, “Aber du bist so hübsch. (But you’re so pretty.)”

“What?”

He blushed, looking at his shoes, “Oh, um, you are just kind. I am sad for you.”

“I’m sad for you too, Kӧnig.” You smiled, “But it’s alright. Those people mean nothing now. I used their hate to help my anxiety, and now I’m here to help you improve yours.”

“(Y/N), I think you are helping.”

“Yeah? I think so too.”

He stepped a little closer to you, his movements stopping you in your tracks.

“Ich habe noch nie ein so schӧnes gesicht gesehen, Schatz. (I have never seen such a beautiful face, sweetheart.)” He whispered, his fingers barely touching your chin as he tipped it, making you look up at him.

Your breath was caught in your throat, heat rising to your cheeks as you melted into his touch. You reached up, your hand cupping his as it moved to your cheek.

Your heart thudded in your chest as he stepped closer to you, the other hand slipping around to rest on your waist.

Before you knew it, your body was pressed against his, the two of you searching each other’s eyes for any sign to stop.

There was none, but as soon as your fingers grazed the bottom of that damned hood, moving to lift it away, the familiar jingle of the ringtone set for Price echoed around the walls.

You fumbled, stepping back from the giant, “F-fuck…I- sorry, it’s Price I-I have to take it.”

Kӧnig released a long breath as you moved away from him, whispering to himself, “Oh, mein gott. (Oh, my God.)”

He barely paid notice to you speaking with your Captain, until something you said caught his attention, making his heart shatter.

“Yes, Price,” you laughed, “As soon as the job is done, I’ll be on my merry way.”

You were leaving?

“Yeah!” you spoke again, turning to smile at him briefly, “He’s doing well, I think he’ll be fine here. No- Captain, listen…you know what Ghost is like! It’s just a job, right? So, when I’m done, I’ll be back, promise.”

What?

‘It’? Were you talking about him like that?

Did you really think of him as nothing but a mission, something for you to fix and then leave behind once the work was done?

“I’m just a job?” he said, voice small as he watched you put your phone down.

You stood confused for a moment, until you looked back at your phone, reliving the conversation with Price.

“N-no, Kӧnig, t-that’s not what I meant by that-”

“I’m just another task for you to complete before you go leaving to your elite task force, ja?”

His voice raised with every word as he angrily collected his own things. Hurt seeped from him, and you could understand exactly why.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you pleaded, “Yes, I was brought here to do a job, but you are not just a job to me. You’re a human being!”

“A human being you were brought here to babysit.”

“Yes! I was! But that wasn’t my fault! I didn’t fucking want to!”

Your frustration got the better of you, and you snapped. No, you didn’t want to be someone’s babysitter. You were an SAS-trained sniper, for crying out loud. But you’d seen someone in need and stayed.

And you were so glad you did.

But he didn’t see it that way, who could blame him?

“Okay, sergeant. Danke for the lesson.” He said, and he nodded to you, turning towards the exit.

“Kӧnig, please- don’t leave, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

He ignored you, shaking his head as he flung the door open, the noise echoing around the shooting range. You winced, tears welling in your eyes as you watched his hulking form stalk away from you.

That’s the last he spoke to you.

It was the last you’d even seen him.

For three days.

He didn’t come to the shooting range, he hadn’t been showing up for training, and he hadn’t been eating from the canteen.

You never meant to hurt him or pry too far, but it was why you were here. To help him understand about teamwork and morale, to help him understand that not every person was out to get him. But you never meant to make him feel like he was just a job, just another assignment.

In a last ditch effort, you scanned the room again, and your heart skipped a beat as blue eyes pierced yours.

He was leaning against the concrete pillar on his left, arms crossed over his vest, hip stuck out as one of his feet rested in front of the other. Your eyes examined his frame, subconsciously licking your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked even bigger with all the gear on…even better.

Kӧnig blushed furiously under your gaze, flustered as he tore his eyes away from you to look back at his superior, who’s voice was booming around the room.

“Karma!” his voice made you jump, head snapping forward, “You will be taking primary overwatch. The snipers are to follow your command.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered.

Fuck.

“Now, the mission is simple. We will take the trucks down through the mountain pass, and there is a guard under our pay to let us pass without issue on the border. Roze.” Fender spoke, passing the baton to his second in command.

“From there, Contact Team 1 will press west, taking the building from behind. Contact Team 2 will follow after breach, collecting the hostages and running them to the van that is waiting. I will be driving that.”

“The Sniper team will head east, setting up overwatch to take out any stragglers that push through from the breach, am I clear?” Fender finished.

Several voices answered in unison, nods and encouraging looks thrown around the room between comrades.

You only squeezed your gun tighter, teeth sinking into the flesh of your lips.

KorTac was so different to 141.

The journey to missions would be silent, all of you quiet from the weight of what you were about to endure.

But not here.

People were chatting away, making jokes, making plans for the evening as if they were so certain they’d even make it home. It completely terrified you. The only thing keeping you alive was the promise you made to get back to your boys.

No wonder Kӧnig hated it here…so did you.

Somehow, the journey felt like it took forever, but no time at all at the same time. Something wasn’t right, you could feel it deep within you. Even the encouraging texts from the 141 group chat weren’t helping, despite Soap insisting that his flurry of memes was appropriate.

It wasn’t long until you were in position, the front of your body damp from the moisture in the grass surrounding you.

“Karma to Actual, Sniper team in position, waiting on count.” You spoke quietly, nodding to your team to settle.

“Copy that, Karma. Contact Team 1 is on route for your position.” Fender replied.

As soon as he said that, the sound of combat boots connecting with the ground flooded the air around you, legs wading past with guns held high on the target. Your heart skipped as you caught a flash of red and white stripes as Kӧnig moved past you.

He moved swiftly and silently, completely in his element.

Now was the time you’d see him in action; you’d see the crazy that everyone warned you about.

“In position, sir.” He spoke, his accent thick as he whispered into his comms, taking up position in front of the doors.

Moving the scope to settle on him, you peeked through, gasping as you saw he had no weapon at all on him. It was just him and his fists.

They genuinely did just use him as a human battering ram.

“On your count then, soldier.”

You watched him as he took a final breath before his voice flowed in your ear, “Eins…zwei…drei…

Einsetzen! (one…two…three…engage!)”

On cue, the splintering of wood echoed around the trees, and the popping of gunfire and the screams of women followed.

“Okay everyone, on your mark! Let’s clear the way.” You commanded.

One by one, you shot your rifle with ample precision, taking out the AQ soldiers that tried to escape the hands of Kӧnig, and the rest of Contact Team 1.

“This why they call you Karma?” Calisto’s voice sounded.

You let out a laugh, “Indeed it is.”

“Badass!”

As yours and König’s team cleaned out the AQ, contact team 2 made their way in to collect the hostages. That’s when you got the ‘all clear’ to move in, offering any aid needed to the poor victims.

You moved quickly, throwing your rifle over your shoulder as you stumbled down the hill towards the building, your team following swiftly behind you. The doors swung open, and a crowd of dirty and frightened women poured out, Roze pulling up with the van and ushering them in.

It was seemingly over, and you threw a small smile to Kӧnig as he helped one of the smaller girls out of the building. He looked back at you, holding your gaze for a moment, until screams and cries and yells of commands tore your attention away.

Running towards the group with a fully loaded semi-auto was a straggler, the last AQ soldier that had apparently been missed, and he was headed right for Kӧnig and the little girl.

You tossed your gun aside, not even taking a second to think, and ran as fast as your legs would take you towards them.

You ignored every order to stand down, every yell from Fender to fall back.

But no one was as quick as you to react.

You reached them just as the bullets started spraying, the force in which you banged into Kӧnig knocking him to the floor as you scooped the girl in your arms to shield her.

Somehow, you’d managed to save them both from the oncoming assault, but your complete disregard for your own life came to bite back at you as you screamed, a searing, burning pain shooting through your thigh as a bullet struck you.

Roze yelled, reaching for the child as you tossed her forward, falling to the ground when another bullet shot into your back.

Your vest protected you from deadly harm, but the force of the impact had you fall to your knees, landing on your front in a daze.

The rest of the team didn’t even get a chance to unload their own weapons into the enemy, as Kӧnig shot up, tears pricking his eyes as he ran at the soldier, tossing him into the air and bringing him back down over his bent knee.

A sickening crack of bones echoed through the valley, until silence fell, and the only sound was your laboured whimpering in the grass.

Until that wasn’t heard either.

Your body went limp.

And your vision faded to black.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

💀🌹Ghost x Jade : What In The First Date AU did I Just Fucken Made 💀🌹

No for real I said I was about to make something cute and this come out (^///^) But just look at this as after-the-whole-damn-war's-over, Ghost and Jade goes on their first official date and made this together on a photobooth AAAAAAAAAAA

Also just realized that I've never drawn their first kiss yet and I'm already on their relationship part Imma go hide in the corner rn.

H--hope you love it--! (｡・//ε//・｡)

[wiggy-worm]

angel is the type of guy to go “thanks bro” after the most romantic intimate hot gay lovin

[welldonekhushi]

Did some back anatomy practice! And while sketching, it grasped an idea in me to draw Captain Arjun drowning his sorrows taking a shower to relieve himself from a long day. But sure the man's back is strong 😫

Also, I tried to make the scar look realistic through a tutorial on the website.. did I do great? Did I not? *is nervous*

Anyways, I hope you like it! And Captain, please come out faster.. Soap is waiting for his turn *sniff*