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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

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Anything V (König x Reader)

The 5th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Like the characters?

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: Ya’ll are in for a treat with this series. I just figured out the plot like 10 minutes ago hahaha

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension

Warning: Graphic Language

You glared at the woman before you, fury simmering beneath your skin. You felt like you were on fire, you felt like you could commit heinous crimes- you knew that you could kill them.

“I understand that you may feel like this isn’t needed,” the stupid fuck soothed. “But therapy is a proven solution. I can help get you back up and running.”

Therapy.

Your fingers dug into the armrests.

“They told me this was training.” You were chewing on the words, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Deep down you’d known that this was coming, you’d declined ‘help’ after the initial incident but now there was no hiding the darkness that plagued your mind. Everyone had seen it.

Everyone.

“This is training,” the doctor smiled. “Training of the mind.”

You visibly cringed. They’d made sure to give you the most disarming person they could find. Kind eyes, an easy smile and a relaxed posture. They looked vulnerable. If the doctor was the most fragile in the room, then it would encourage you to step out and spill your trauma with tears and snot bubbles. Not you.

You sneered, leaning forward to rest your arms on your knees. “Being chosen to be my therapist is a shit go, Doc.”

“Actually,” the corner of their lips curled upward. “This’ll piss you off more but I’m doing a friend a favour.”

You blinked, surprise snatching the next crude words from your tongue. The doctor leaned back into their chair, clicking the pen a couple of times as if emphasising a point. As you stared at them, they stared back, and you suddenly realised that maybe they weren’t as vulnerable as they seemed.

“Laswell?” You queried.

The therapist snorted softly. “Price.”

Your spine straightened, a deep sense of anger twisting violently within your chest.

Price.

“Ooh,” the doctor tutted softly, leaning forward in their seat. “Didn’t like that one, did you?”

You sneered at them, your eyes narrowed and your walls higher than ever. What did they know about what you liked and disliked? What did they know of your relationship with Price?

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“If you had it your way, you wouldn’t talk at all,” the doctor frowned.

“Then take the fucking hint.”

Their gaze trailed over your body, taking in the way you leaned away from the conversation. You were an open book and no matter how aggressive the mask you wore was- you were readable. With a huff, the therapist tossed their notebook over their shoulder lazily. It clattered onto the bench behind them, scattering the miscellaneous items in its path.

“Alright, Birdy. Let’s go off the record then,” they gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “You’re shitty with Price.”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about him-”

“You feel like he’s betrayed you.”

You blinked, fingers trembling even though they were curled into fists. The overarching thought that had been plaguing you for weeks was picked apart by some random fucking doctor. The words were out, you weren’t the one that had said them but they were in the air anyway. It felt good to hear them aloud rather than the screaming thought over and over in the recesses of your mind.

“Yes.” The confirmation was bitter on your tongue. You waited for the doctor to shut you down, you waited for them to monologue about how your feelings were childish and unprofessional. They were providing you this service as a favour to the Captain, you could only assume that they were friends.

Instead, the therapist simply nodded. “I would too, Birdy.”

You loosed a breath that you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“What was your name again, Doc?” You rasped, eyes narrowing. They shifted in their seat, taken off guard by the sudden change in subject but willing to share nonetheless.

The doctor shot you a smile- genuine this time.

“They call me Saint.”

____

While you didn’t appreciate being ambushed with it, therapy hadn’t been as bad as you’d imagined. Your fingers clenched and unclenched in an attempt to release some tension as you walked.

Every day, you were required to present to the doctors office for a psych appointment.

Every day, Saint had picked your thoughts apart bit by bit.

Although you hadn’t intended to talk, you realized quickly that Saint didn’t just look disarming- they were disarming. There was no judgement as you spoke, not when you told them about your murderous nightmares and not when you told them that you’d wanted to beat down the new sniper.

They only nodded, explaining that it- surprisingly- was natural to feel like that after what you’d experienced.

You felt validated.

Less like a liability and more like a recovering victim.

Your thoughts stuttered to a halt as you laid eyes on the kitchen, the light spilling from the open doorway and out into the hall. You raised a brow at the sight, knowing that only one person would really be awake at this time of night.

Ghost.

The flutter in your chest caught you off guard, the thought of seeing Simon had you excited. It’d been a while since you’d both last spoken, a hand on the shoulder as he muttered a “see you soon,” and a “be safe.” All that, right before he boarded a plane with Sunshine in tow.

“Yeah,” the newest sniper had winked at you with a curved smile. “See you real soon, gorgeous.”

You hated them, you were sure of it. They were nauseatingly glib, each word rolling off their silver tongue with all the ease but no truth. You couldn’t believe anything they said, you’d be stupid if you did.

As you approached the kitchen slowly, you heard hushed voices. They were arguing- aggressive and quickly spoken.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Sunshine snapped, their words breathless. “For the rest of our time here, this is how you want it to be?”

From what you’d seen, the new sniper had a reputation for being self-posessed and controlled. They wanted to watch you unravel beneath their sentences, but in order for them to do that they’d have to be unphased by whatever’s thrown at them.

Right now, there was no sign of that person.

“What “I want it to be” is you doing your fucking job and me doing mine." The hostility in Simon's tone had you taken aback. You’d never heard him so aggressive towards a teammate and for a split moment, you felt bad for Sunshine.

“It was!” The sniper shouted, their exhaustion and frustration painstakingly clear.

“You were reckless.”

“I was saving you!”

“I don’t need you to save me!” Ghost finally snapped. The sound of something clattering followed by Sunshine’s sharp breath had you tense. “I don’t need anything from you.”

There was a soft touch against your shoulder and your heart stuttered in your chest. Fear electrified your body as you spun around. A hand pressed down firmly against your lips, suffocating the scream rising from your throat.

König’s eyes were narrowed, his head ducked so that he could meet your gaze head on. The look he gave you was accusatory and shame quickly flooded your cheeks. Your fingers came to rest shakily against his wrist, pushing weakly against his hold.

His brows pulled into a frown.

“Are you asking me to just let you fucking die?” Sunshine rasped, their seething voice reminding you of where you were. König’s eyes drifted from yours to over your shoulder aimlessly as he listened to their conversation.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ghost drawled. You could hear him struggling for control, the way he drew each breath like it was painful.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” The sniper exclaimed. “If it was Birdy instead of me today you wouldn’t have an issue with it-”

“But you’re not Birdy,” Ghost snapped, “are you?”

Silence flooded the space between you all.

You felt ashamed of yourself. You were somewhere you shouldn’t have been, you were listening to a conversation that you were never intended to hear. This was something personal, the hatred and electricity between Sunshine and Ghost forbidden for your understanding.

König must have come to the same conclusion. The man shot you a hard stare, his hands falling from your lips to grip your shoulders. He guided you backward quietly, trying to provide an escape that wouldn’t alert them to your presence.

“No, Sir,” Sunshine’s voice was faint now as you pulled away from the two. “I’m not Birdy.”

You knew then that something had changed. It was in their voice, it was in the air, it was in the venom of their words- it was a suffocating emotion that you knew too well.

They were hurt.

But, hurt breeds bitterness and there was nothing but hatred in Sunshine’s final words.

I’m not Birdy.

König sucked in a breath and you knew that he’d heard it as well. When he finally managed to pull you both through the doors of your dormitory unscathed, he let you go. There was no gentleness in his expression this time when he appraised you.

“What were you thinking?” He growled, running rough fingers through his hair. “That was wrong.”

“I know,” you whispered, shaken.

“You shouldn’t have been there,” König continued with a large step away from your quivering body. He was riled up and his anger stimulated your own. Who was he to lecture you?

“You shouldn’t have been there either,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

König shot you a stern look. “I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t find you eavesdropping, naseweis.”

You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel. While you weren’t falling apart at the sight of him anymore, it didn’t mean that you wanted to be around him. You still wanted nothing to do with König, no interaction, no contact- nothing.

“I don’t need you, of all people, lecturing me on being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you threw over your shoulder as you walked. There was a huff from the man behind you, then the fall of his footsteps following in suit.

“Doesn’t the incident make me an expert on that?” König questioned from beside you, keeping pace as though it were a leisurely stroll. You glared up at him, forcing the growing rage clawing at your chest to stay caged.

“You think it’s funny?” You hissed. “Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“Of course not!” König’s voice hardened. You both rounded the corner towards your room, it felt like the quicker you moved the easier it was for him to keep up. Another infuriating feature that the Austrian possessed, you’d add it to the already mile-long list.

“Then why can’t you just leave me alone?” You spun on your heel, facing the beast head on. “It’s like you’re everywhere, König. I can’t escape you, I enter a room and you’re there. I turn a corner, you’re there. I go to sleep and there you fucking are.”

König raised a brow, leaning his shoulder against the frame beside him. “I’m not stalking you, Birdy. If that’s what you’re trying to imply.”

“Is that why you’re standing in my bedroom doorway?”

The man’s spine straightened as he took up his own weight, emerald gaze pinning you to your place. It was as though he were surprised, as though he was just now realising that he had been following you. Your chest was heaving as you glared up at him. You wanted him to deny it, to tell you that you were imagining it all- you wanted to be angry.

“You’re a worrying person,” König finally said. The words almost sounded like an admission, although of what you were unsure. You jaw tightened as you retreated another step back into the safety of your room.

“No,” you corrected, “you’re a worrying person.”

König sighed, letting the silence fall in between you for a beat. There was conflict across his expression before finally his eyes narrowed. He stepped into the room.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Do you think I want to hurt you?”

There it was.

It was the question that plagued you as you lay in bed every night, staring at your bedroom door. Or lack thereof, you should say. There was nothing on the hinges, not since König had kicked it down.

He’d thought you were in danger. You lay before him, unconscious and dreaming. He could have done anything, he could have finished the job.

But he didn’t.

König’s head tilted as he observed you, watching you struggle for an answer. His fingers lightly brushed against your forearm and you froze, eyes wide as you stared up at him. He was so tall, dominating every space he entered. He was a giant amongst men, a god.

“Do you think I want to hurt you, Birdy?” König said again. He didn’t lean down, didn’t drop down to your height this time. He wanted your answer, he wanted you to look at him and take him as he was- he wanted the truth.

“No,” you whispered.

The truth.

Your body trembled as though the room had dropped to subzero temperatures but your skin was on fire. Heat bloomed across your chest, racing the length of your spine, neck and cheeks.

König’s eyes softened and he swayed backward lazily, as though he were drunk fighting for his balance. Neither of you said anything for a long moment. He didn’t ask why you were still afraid, he knew that was an unfair question. He never expected you to be comfortable with his presence.

But the shift between you both was tangible.

“Am I right?” The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, desperate and vulnerable. An offering, an olive branch an extension of trust.

Something washed over the man before you, something you’d never seen before. His gaze was ferocious, jade fire burning beneath those lashes as it scorched your skin. Determination tightened his jaw and his thumb brushed across the skin of your arm like a promise.

An unspoken response.

Yes.

Your breath left your chest as you took another step away, suffocating in his presence. König inhaled heavily, his hands falling back to rest at his sides.

“I still-” You began, twisting your fingers anxiously.

“I know.”

You still hadn’t forgiven him.

There was a long way to go, but now the path had changed. Rather than there being a straight road, shrouded in hatred, there was a fork. A split in the path that required a decision, one that you weren’t quite ready to make yet.

König cleared his throat, softening his stance with conscious effort. It was as if he remembered that he was meant to be disarming. Watching the huge man try to shrink himself for your comfort was surreal, nothing like what you’d imagined when you’d first laid eyes on him after your recovery.

Ghost had never made himself smaller for you when you came out of hospital. He was slower, gentler, as though dealing with a frightened animal- but he never pretended to be something that he was not.

“Do you think they heard us?” You changed the topic as your mind fell back to Ghost and Sunshine. “How would we explain that?”

König blinked, clearly glad for the break in intensity. He shifted backward, moving to make his escape as your interaction came to a close. For once, he was the one running from you.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he muttered, an ironic smile playing at his lips. “They won’t have a hard time believing that given our history.”

The man offered you a nod, fingers tapping against the door with finality- his own farewell. You were glad that he hadn’t said ‘goodnight’, that he hadn’t bothered with niceties. You were not friends. Not allies.

You weren’t sure what you were.

When he disappeared around the door, his footsteps retreating down the hall, you finally let yourself relax. Jitters skittered across your body, the remnants of electricity from your confrontation buzzing beneath your skin.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The words struck a chord of discomfort within you.

They followed you through your night routine, plaguing you in the shower, lingering as you made a cup of tea, whispering sickness as you laid in bed. They made you nauseous, they made you dizzy, they were disconcerting.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The whole accident had been such a tragic coincidence, a monumental mistake. Almost impossible in an environment where communication is key, everything working in perfect tandem to ensure your demise.

Throughout the length of your military career, you’d always been taught to never take anything as chance. If a bush rustled beside you, there was a possibility that it was an animal- but also that it could be an enemy. If there was a light beneath a door, it could have been left on or there was someone waiting for you on the other side. You were taught not to trust coincidence.

The failure of comms, the false intel of a sniper on a roof, the unexpected of KorTac, the largest soldier of their team being sent to find you- all of it was a perfectly timed but tragic coincidence.

You tossed in your bed, trying to drown the thoughts from your crumbling mind. It seems you didn’t need a nightmare tonight to bring on terror. Your resolve began to slip, the sudden sense of dread gripping you by the throat.

Wrong place, wrong time.

You wanted to rake the thoughts from your brain with your bare fingers. You wanted to rip out the connection you’d made and go to sleep in bliss ignorance.

Wrong place, wrong time.

The way König had brought it up, the way he’d said it, maybe he was feeling it too. Maybe you weren’t as insane as you felt. Maybe your thoughts weren’t as unreliable as they seemed. You clenched your jaw, nails digging into the skin of your palm hoping that the pain would pull you back from the edge you teetered on.

Wrong place, wrong time.

Wrong for both you and König … but, as you lay staring at your missing door, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it was all just right for somebody else.

#könig cod #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader

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spicyspiders · 1 year

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Hi hemlo! How are you? I've been reading your docs lately ngl made my legs wobbly tbh😳

So uh ye is it ok if I request a top könig X bottom m reader, where könig is destroying reader's ass and when his eyes looked down at reader's stomach he just see a visible bulge on his lower tummy, big man stopped doing his thing for a while cuz he's flabbergasted

He's literally a big puppy, I love him kggrhrghrhe

Gaagh you really don't have to write this you can just ignore it if you want to ⚰️

I'm glad you liked them!

As much as you enjoyed the physical feel of sex, something that you especially enjoyed, particularly with König, was the visual aspect of it. You didn’t like to just lay there and feel, you also liked to see how the pleasure you were feeling was affecting who was fucking you.

König could definitely put on a show.

Oftentimes, under the pleasure that you both were feeling, his body would shake, like he was having a hard time feeling it out. The first time you really saw it, it scared you.

“Hey,” you murmured, “you okay?” You asked softly. You were on top of him the first time he started shaking, his cock deep inside you. You ran your hands up and down his sweaty naked chest, trying to calm him.

In response, König’s hands tightened on your waist and he pulled his head up from where it was thrown back onto the pillow. He sat up with a groan and pulled your chest flush with his.

“I am alright,” he rested his head into the crook of your neck, “you feel so good,” he whispered into your ear, like it was a secret.

It took clenching down on his cock for you to figure out that you were the cause. Ever since then, you always made sure to watch how his body would fall apart, and every time you would, feelings of possessiveness would stir within your gut.

It was intoxicating, knowing that you were the cause, one that you would never grow tired of.

There were many times, however, when it was hard to focus on watching König. The pleasure that he would send through you almost felt strong enough to knock you over sometimes.

In times like this, König would switch positions and do all of the work while you lay there while wave after wave of rapture washes over you.

You didn’t mean to let out a laugh when you looked down and saw it. On each harsh thrust that he would drive into your body, a bulge in your stomach would appear. You realized quickly that it was because of how big König’s cock is.

When the noise you let out stole his attention and he followed your eyes to where they stared at your stomach, he was able to figure it out as well.

“Oh, my love,” he said, already sounding like he was on the verge of tears, afraid that he was hurting you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist when he tried to pull out, keeping him inside, “please,” you begged.

König stayed still near the edge of the bed. Slowly, he picked up his hands and ran them softly over your stomach. You both shivered when his fingers ran over the spot on your stomach where it showed.

“You like it?” He whispered in disbelief.

You sat up and held yourself up with your forearm. The other arm you moved down so you could grab one of his hands with yours. You pushed it down until his fingers brushed your hard cock.

“That answer your question?” Your words ended with a breathy moan when he ran his fingers up your cock.

“Yes it does, my filthy boy,” he growled, his previous apprehension gone. His hands shook as he wrapped each hand around the sides of your abdomen before starting back up at a brutal pace.

You fell back onto the bed, throwing your head back to moan as his cock pressed roughly against your prostate.

In front of you, König kept his eyes trained on your stomach, watching the bulge that came about as he plunged back in over and over and over again.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #könig x male reader #König x male reader smut #konig x male reader smut #konig x male reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year

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Yandere König x Reader pls? Take all the time you need.

Warnings: yandere behavior and mention of murderer/violence.

A/N: Sorry, this took so long, I've been having writing block these past few days; hope you enjoy reading :].

Gif and icons belongs to bloodlst || NOT MINE

König as your obsessed beloved, is quite shy. Obsessive and heads-over-heels for you in every aspect possible. Massive stalker, and tends to cling to you like a koala whenever you’re around.

Whilst this giant isn’t the most sociable to be around, it’s likely that both of you met while connecting through the KorTac team, making you the new guy to the team. Which, at first, is awkward.

But the minute the team introduces you, König is immediately infatuated with you, head over heels for you; his hazel eyes throwing a rare connection as he follows your form, watching you do your work from afar/or close up.

You were absolutely a definition of a deity, maybe an angel in disguise– all he cared about was how different you were and how his eyes followed your trail like a dog.

Now, it’s possible that you were a medic. A kind and sweet doc that’s always made him blush with your gentle and scarred hands working on his wounds after missions or taking the chance to be shown around the campus; which, he’s grateful for.

Although, you might’ve been a good sniper too — an amazing eagle-eye soldier who knew what they were doing, something he admired. Though, something stood out for you.

Maybe it was the mask you wore, in and out of the battlefield, or possibly the fact you always went out of your way to talk with the Austrian giant; yelling across the field while jogging up to meet him.

At first, it was uncomfortable. He responds with too formal expressions and goes as far as not to look you in the eye. But, the more you spent time with him, he slowly opened up, allowing you to train with him, throwing glances your way, and partnering up on gunning away at the shooting range while the two of you talked about your past/or present.

His obsessiveness really starts to show the minute he sees you get a bit close with your other teammates, whether that’s Nikto, Zero, or his best mate, Horangi. In many sense, König is possessive, but in a sense of needing to keep you safe.

Jealousy lingered off of him, steaming smoke as if he were a dragon. Dark eyes are becoming murderous and intentionally ruin the conversation as soon as he sees them pat you on the back or give you a tightly-squeezed hug.

This would make your interactions more frequent— after every mission, he’s following you like a puppy following its parents until they agree to lay down with them. But, he’s awkwardly suggesting that the two of you should eat somewhere or go into the training grounds to work with each other.

Now, it’s likely you’re not a shy or anxious person, but that doesn't stop him from being with you 24/7, being glued to your side out in public. And he has his powers. His height and dangerous accent keep people away

König despises leaving you alone, even letting you use the bathroom; he has to follow you around, wait outside, and possibly lay against the wall as he stares down at people.

Now, König isn’t one to kidnap, not only is he a horrible liar, but he may fear you’ll hate him; no longer wanting to be around him or see him as a person you can go to if you have problems with.

Though, that doesn’t mean he will guilt-trip you into staying with him on a rare day off you have with him. Do you wanna leave and visit your family? Why should you? Don’t you think you should spend your time with him, lying on his chest while the two of you watch TV, no? You’re just breaking his heart, deary.

Heading to the coffee shop to meet up with a friend? Why don't you let him come, yeah? He only wants to make sure you are safe and okay!

But, if you insist on him not coming? That’s fine. This man is surprisingly stealthy, even with his size. Of course, not without your knowledge, he had put a tracking device on you, somewhere where you won’t find out.

He really tries going through the normal route, whisking you off your feet to fall in love with him. He wants you to be just as heart-eyed as he is to you. Which means he buys anything he believes you’ll love.

He takes you out on a few dates, trying to keep out of public ones. But every know and again, he will do so.

Finally, he confesses– showing his scarred face and pretty hazel eyes that make you feel more captured. He stutters, hands sweating and picking at his nails as he expresses he wants you by himself. And when you agree? He’s so thankful for you.

König rushes you to move into his apartment, ensuring he’ll take care of everything. Buying a large-king sized bed so it won’t break when you two sleep or going out of his way to get a guard dog for safety. He wants you safe. That’s all he wants, okay?

Speaking of severe safety, the shared home is littered with all kinds of cameras, including detection and listening devices. You won’t know about it until you really pay attention.

Affection with König is pretty touch-starved on his part; seeking the need to touch you, or have you touch him, no matter how small. But, he also feels and believes he’s a nuisance for asking for a hug or kiss, which leads to you dragging on most of the affection until he becomes comfortable.

König deeply appreciates when you give him back rubs. Feeling your fingers dragging along his back, massaging into his thick and tense muscles, it makes him re-love you all over again.

It’s no surprise that, despite his height, König with loved ones is a gentle giant. However, the minute he senses your safety is being threatened or visibly sees someone is making you uncomfortable, his social anxiety gets thrown out the window, and his instinct of finishing a mission kicks in.

Whether that’s willing to beat a drunkard, threaten someone to back off, or simply stand behind you; he makes sure you always feel safe and welcome in his presence.

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

Content belongs to ©️ yandere-kokeshi only.

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 2 months

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Eye in the sky.

141 member reader(codename: eagle)x könig

You're the medic of your team, you never worked with KorTac before and you weren't prepared for it or for the blue eyed Colonel.

If you like it, give a ♥️ for a second part.

Warning: mentions of blood, injuries, grammatical/ spelling errors, long story.

Pt.2

The meeting today is not going well, you've been listening to the boys complaining over and over again.

- KorTac? No, we can do this on our own.

- it's not a suggestion Ghost, I don't like the idea either but Laswell insisted.

- But Sir, those are fuckin animals!

- Yeah I don't like their techniques... Eagle, what do you think?

The four men are looking at you, expectantly, you're in your own thoughts, just waiting for your orders.

- Huh?

- What do you think Doc? Are you okay with the idea of working with KorTac?

Soap wasn't happy but like you he would do what Price and Laswell order.

- I don't mind, I mean we will play our part and they will play theirs, no?

- Indeed, eagle is right, we will arrive together, we'll clean the path for them and then... They will do what we're not allowed to do.

- Which is?

You're not new to this but you seriously don't understand why everyone is so bothered by this situation.

- Common eagle! Don't pretend you don't know.

Gaz is irritated by your silly question but you really need to understand what is going on.

- what? I seriously don't get it.

- They will torture to obtain the information we need, we're not allowed to use the same methods they usually use.

Ghost said it as if it was nothing, but now you get why they're not ok with the news.

Someone knocked on the door, Interrupting your meeting, Price opened while all of you were still talking in whispers.

- Guys, lemme introduce the members of KorTac that will be working with us. Horangi, Roze and König.

Roze and Horangi look strong but König looks like a giant bear, is taller than ghost.

- This is the 141, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and our medic, Eagle, we were already talking about how will we work.

You're still amazed by König's height, you don't even pay attention to what they're talking about, you're observing carefully, his arms are long and muscular, his legs, those thighs could explode anybody's head, his blue eyes...

- Eagle? Are you with us?

- ah? Oh fuck, Yes, I'm... Sorry Captain.

- I was saying there's a small change of plans, you will be working with König and his team.

Fuck, everybody noticed you were literally staring at him, you're blushing, focus, focus!.

- Yes, captain.

- Did you heard what will you do?

- Ah...

- Eagle is my best sniper and medic, sometimes looks like lives in the clouds but I can assure you there won't be problems during the mission.

- I hope so, I don't like to be a babysitter, Roze and Horangi, they're really good at any task (...)

A babysitter? Who does this tall man think he is? You looked at your friends, they're returning the annoyed glance at you.

- I understand, then that's how we will be working, Colonel, I'll give you the details about when we'll start.

The reunion finished, you started to walk to your room when Gaz appeared at your side with his silly malicious smirk.

- I saw that.

- What?

- You were looking at the masked giant, to be honest everybody noticed it.

- Oh god! I was just looking at how tall he is, did you saw him? It's massive, I will need to take like the double amount of everything just in case he's injured or something.

Gaz continued making fun of you, you felt seriously embarrassed you tried to do your usual tasks and pretend nothing happened then disappeared until it was dinner time.

You were looking for the table where usually you and the team sit, there they are, with Roze and Horangi, where's the giant? You look around just to see him sitting alone just with an apple and a protein bar, before you could even notice you're already in front of him.

- Ja? Can I help you?

He's not being rude but also not very kind, he's looking at you with a bothered look.

- Ah... No, well, I was wondering why are you here, everybody is eating together, over there.

- I like to be alone.

- oh okay, sorry...

You turned back and walked to the usual table, you discovered Roze and Horangi are more social, talking a little bit more than their colonel.

- Horangi, may I ask you something?

- go ahead.

- Your colonel... Is he always like that?

Horangi looked at König's direction, he stayed in silence for a moment then sigh and redirect his look to you.

- I shouldn't say this but he has social anxiety. That's why he always sits away, excuse me, I'll go to check on him.

He stood up and left, Roze interrupted your thoughts.

- They're good friends, don't worry. They're always together, well Doc, I hope your captain says the truth about you, take good care of us tomorrow.

She gave you a pat on the back and left, you continued the conversation with your team, keeping an eye on Horangi and König, then everybody went to sleep.

The morning arrived quickly, you're checking if you already have all you could possibly need. You're checking your gun, knifes, belt, you don't want problems with the KorTac guys. Ghost appeared behind you.

- Ready?

- Fuck! Ghost, you scared me. Yes, just wanted to check once more.

- You'll be alright Eagle... Just... Take care of you when you're with them, alright?

- Is Ghost worried about me?

You tried to joke with him but he was talking really serious.

- I'm serious, we don't know them, we don't know if they have other plans or something.

- Yes, Lt.

The trip on the plane was calmed, everybody reviewed the plan, it was simple, You and König will be in high ground, as snipers, while the rest eliminates enemies that are not visible for you, Roze and Horangi will be searching for information and the target, once they found him, You and König will join them, you will wait until they finish to obtain information, give medical attention to the target because Laswell needs him alive.

You and König started to walk to the highest ground you could find, you're just following König In silence until he decided to speak.

- Why Eagle?

- What?

- Why that codename? Eagle?

- Ah well, my father is a huge fan of that old band... The Alan Parsons project, do you know it?

- I don't think so.

- do you know that song... « I'm the eye in the sky, looking at you I can read your mind...»?

- nein

- Oh well, it's a good song, my dad sang it for me when I was afraid or anxious. When I joined the army I sang or hummed it all the time and everywhere, eventually everybody knew me for that and started to call me eagle because you know, the song and I'm a good sniper, I like it, it's a reminder that my dad still walks at my side, even if he's no longer here.

You looked at him and to your surprise he was observing you, too focused on your story, his eyes are blue and his look is soft, then he looked somewhere else.

- Good story. Umm I think this is a good place, what do you think?

- Sure, it gives us a good view of the place.

The radios interrupted the conversation. «Eagle, König, Are you ready?»

- Yes Cap, you have eyes in the sky.

You and könig started to shoot and it became a competition to see who would shoot down more targets. You started to laugh and so he did.

- Ha! And they said I couldn't be a sniper.

- God! You're a good sniper König, you're hard to beat.

- Danke, you're good too.

And there it is that look he gave you before, soft blue eyes but once more something interrupted you.

«König, we found him, bring the Doc, were waiting for you, he refuses to talk» «Do your magic Colonel!!» Horangi and Roze were on the radio.

He Stood up and offered you his hand to help you to stand up, you started to trot quickly, In silence, you noticed how tense he was, you arrived at the location, Ghost and Soap were waiting for you outside, König got inside the house, you were ready to follow but Ghost stopped you.

- What? I'll go with them, no? Where's Gaz and Price?

- You will wait here until they say you're allowed to go there.

You looked at both of them in confusion, soap simply nodded at you.

- trust us, eagle, you don't want to see that. The cap and Gaz will join us soon, they're blocking the communication in the zone.

A few minutes later you started to hear someone screaming «Please!! Please, I beg you to stop...» then silence again, you're worried but you know soap and ghost were right, maybe it's better to not see what is going on there. Almost an hour later Roze came out. «It's your turn Doc» before you could give a step inside the house she warned you «I have to say... it's not a nice view» she went back inside and you followed her, the smell of blood became stronger with every step you gave, before you got inside the room, you could hear some laughs, you opened the door just to find König cleaning his hands, while Horangi was cleaning a knife, next to them was a man, in a chair, he's unconscious but breathing, blood is everywhere, certainly Roze wasn't lying, it wasn't nice, but you made your best to look normal.

You kneeled down in front of the man, started to look for a serious injury that needed to be attended before some other, his face is hard to recognize, is bloody, puffy, purple, fresh cuts still bleeding, his fingers are broken and don't have nails anymore, there's deep cuts on his thighs, broken ribs, nose broken, you can bet he is deaf and toothless now, his ears are bleeding too, it's a mess, you don't know where to start.

Horangi decided to let you work, he left, there's only you and König, you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

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ghouljams · 5 months

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I think König is one of those guys where everyone thinks he's the biggest asshole. Like your parents meet him and unless your relationship with your parents is perfect they will not like him. Like to the point where the day of your wedding they'll be "gently" telling you if at anytime you need to pack up your things and come home. (Totally not speaking from experience)

like when it's just you two, he is the sweetest man, peppering you with kisses, using himself as a living weighted blanket, telling you how amazing you are, and how happy is to have you. Constantly praising you for any special skills or talents, but EVERYONE thinks he's an asshole and can't understand for the life of them why the hell you a relatively nice person is with him.

That isn't to say he can't play nice, he can, but if he finds out someone hurt you even if it's emotionally or mentally he's not even going to try because if they can't play nice with his darlin they're not worth the effort. Being nice is one of those things that takes effort for him.

-Hot mess rambler

(I know I said I'd get out, but ghoul you have infected me with CoD brain worms. I have multiple one shots on a Google doc of X reader stories and have multiple tabs of research for said fics. I don't know if I'll share them, but I wanted to let you know that you have infected me with the inspiration)

König is not charming lol he's not nice. He can play at nice but he doesn't actually want to engage with people. Monotone king, voice a little too loud to be considered friendly, constant side eye, he only pulls because he's tall.

He's ONLY nice to you. He only cares about what his darling thinks of him, everyone else is incidental. If you complain even once about someone they're on his permanent shit list. He menaces your family and friends, radiates the worst possible vibes while standing behind you. You introduce him and it's such a shock. You only ever gush about how sweet König is, how caring he is, how soft and gentle with you he is. Who the fuck is this monster glowering at them like he's imagined 100 different ways to kill them. Yeah he's a huge asshole. One word answers to questions, doesn't elaborate on anything, doesn't even seem interested in talking to people other than you.

Everyone at your wedding asks if you're being held hostage or something, offers you a couch to crash on, it's the most confusing thing. The toasts are all half joking about König being a giant scary weirdo, you don't get it. He's the best partner in the world, but only for you.

(also you stay in my ask box, you're not getting away that easy. If you ever feel the desire to share I would love to read whatever you've written! Congrats on the brain worms.)

#ghoul speaks #hot mess anon #we love to see the worms getting more people

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mistyresolve · 1 year

Text

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 2)

Word Count - 2.5K give or take

Summary - Doc wakes up as they arrive at a camp where they are stitched up by a fellow medic. When Ghost comes to check in on them a secret is revealed and causes a rift between the two of them. There is also the question of how the enemy forces were able to predict the convoy's route.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst

A/N - i think i’m going to try out some König fanfic in the future but i haven’t perfected him just yet... he’s a very dynamic character

Part 1

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You could hear them talking above you before you opened your eyes. Although, they sounded distant and muted like you were separated from them by a thick fog. It enveloped you in velvety comfort, so at odds with how you feel before you feel unconscious. You wondered for a second if this was death.

You forced your eyes open. Your head swirled at the sudden bright light of day.

You half expected to be faced with smoke and rubble and never-ending gunshot. Only it was blue sky and rolling clouds you were met with as you stared up. You were being driven somewhere. Fast. If the tops of highrise buildings that sped past, their glass mirroring the sky, was any indication. The sounds of a rumbling engine and tires on the pavement cemented your suspicions of being in the bed of a truck.

There was a breathing mask over your face and someone was manually pumping the airbag every 5 seconds. Helping you breathe and providing you with some sort of pain medication. The slightly metallic taste of the medication and O2 invaded every one of your senses. The reminder that you were still alive was welcomed.

At your feet knelt Price, with his back turned to you and his gun resting on the tailgate. His shoulders were taught and readied while his head rocked back and forth as he scanned his surroundings. Looking out for possible hostiles. Another threat.

You lazily blinked back to the gloved hand atop the airbag as it squeezed another breath into your legs. The familiar arcs and lines of Ghost's tattoo peeked out beneath his sleeve and glove. Following the curve of his arm up to his masked face. His hood was pulled low, cascading his few visible features into shadow. The white of his eyes was in contrast to the black paint surrounding them. His thick lashes made you want to reach up and feel them. He was concentrating on something ahead, his hard eyes darting about. A free hand was resting on the gun at his hip, ready to fire it if at all necessary.

Another pump of the bag. Another blast of that metallic tang.

Your arms felt like lead as you lifted them, one hand reaching for his wrist and the other pushing the mask from your face. Ghost jerked his head to you, eyes flashing with a mixture of relief and shaken nerves. He removed the mask, laying it beside your head, keeping it close in case you wanted another hit.

“Soap?” you managed, you remembered that he was with you guys when you lost consciousness but you didn’t see him in the bed of the truck.

He tilted his head to the front of the truck, “In the cab.”

Price looked over his shoulder, offering a cordial smile, “Nice of you to join us. Gave us quite the scare back there.”

“I’ll be sure to take your feelings into consideration next time,” you huffed, attempting to sit up. With a gentle hand, Ghost helped you, bringing you to rest your back on the side of the truck. Your eyes fell to your leg to find a still pristine bandage.

You gave him a weak thumbs up, “You’d make a good medic.”

“You’ve been a difficult patient,” Ghost admitted, a lilt to his words.

You hummed, letting your head lull to the side and focused on the stitching of Ghost's pants, the fabric wearing away and turning grey from use around the corners and folds.

The words seemed to stick to the roof of your mouth as your mouth dried, “Butters—”

“I grabbed his tags when I grabbed the kit. That’s all we can do for him right now. We can send a retrieval team for him once we get to a safe location,” he interjected like he already knew you didn’t want to say more than you needed. In the rare case, it wasn’t real. That it was just a hallucination.

A lump formed in your throat, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, “It’s not fair,” was all you could manage. You wanted to cry for him, for your friend, but you know that if you did you wouldn’t be able to stop. You would have cried for the family made smaller. For the son that would never get to meet his dad. For his wife, who has no idea she just lost her husband, and the father to her children.

Later. You would think about it later.

Ghosts eyes revealed nothing. He could do nothing now. He knew that. You knew that.

You turned your gaze back to the sky. How could it be so perfectly sunny still? After so much blood has been spilled. You felt the urge to curse at the sky. Damn it all to hell.

“Where are we going?” you asked, still facing on the sky.

You could feel Price shift to a sitting position opposite you, resting his back on the tailgate, “We’re rerouting to a highway south of the city. There’s another post there. It’s a little farther but it’s the safest bet for now. We don’t know if we ran into the hostile by accident or if they knew that was going to be our route.”

“Do you think someone tipped them off?” your brows furrowed, you hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t had the time really.

“It’s a possibility, but nothing we can’t prove or disprove with a little digging” Price's face tightened as he looked at Ghost. That look there made you realize was something else he purposefully omitted, but you figured it was for good reason so chose to change the subject.

“How long was I out?” this time you turned to Ghost, already knowing he was the most likely to be the one who hauled your dead weight around the entire time.

“A couple of hours.”

You blew out a breath, impressed. That was a long time. You knocked Ghost’s knee with yours, “My little guardian angel.”

Ghost fixed you with a broody look. Later, you would talk to him. Maybe apologize for tearing into him before the mission when he was just trying to protect you from…this.

Price returned to his previous position as the lookout. Ghost lingered, looking like he wanted to chastise you. You would let him do that later. Right now you were going to lean your head back and rest your eyes until you arrived.

The post was just outside the city limits, the main building was a warehouse they converted into an HQ. It was surrounded by rows of tents and there was a small makeshift parkade to the back. A regular chain link fence encircled the warehouse but they had modified it to make it more secure, adding barbed wire and sentries and a checkpoint. They waved us through. The rest of the convoy made it here an hour before us.

The doors to the cab opened and slammed shut. Price hopped over the tailgate before turning around and dropping it open. You took two full and deep breaths, before allowing Ghost to help bring you to the edge where Price and Soap were ready to support you to your feet. Behind you, Gaz and Ghost were already unloading everyone’s gear from the back of the truck.

Another medic that was in the convoy, Selford, met you guys halfway to the medic tent. He immediately, ducked under one of your arms, replacing Soap. They sat you down on one of the awaiting cots. Selford removed the bandage with great swiftness, and then he went to cut the pant leg you scolded him, “I think not.”

Even the slash from where the shrapnel had cut through your pants could be sewn and the blood could be washed out. You unzipped my pants, and he helped you pull them down my legs. You were wearing a black pair of shorts underneath so you didn’t feel awkward about undressing. Being in the army left little room for shame anyways.

He cleaned, assessed, and stitched up your leg within minutes. Selford was damn good at what he did that much was obvious.

Soap palmed you a flask during the stitching. You took a healthy swig. The liquor burned all the way down, warming you from the inside out. It was enough to take the edge off. The edge that no amount of medication would aid.

“Just don’t let the Captain see it,” he winked.

“Outta sight, outta mind,” Price groused as he moved to leave the tent, throwing a dismissive hand over his shoulder.

Selford helped you pull your pants back over the bandage. You would change once you track down your own pack. “Thank you,” You didn’t know how to bring up your next thought, and you were unsure if Selford knew already or not, “Butters is out of commission.”

“I heard,” you shared a mutual gloom with him before clearing his throat and he excused himself. He was close with Butters. Closer to him than you were. They went through basics together, and somehow, someway stuck together the entire time. Selford was also the one who gave Butters his nickname. He was usually all smiles and wit, the perfect contrast to Butters and his dry humour and cool demeanour. Seeing Selford so withdrawn was unsettling. Upsetting.

You were unable to walk on your own but you had Soap bring you to your own tent. He was even so kind as to bring you dinner in bed and cheekily asked if you wanted to be tucked in for bed before he left. Your pack was already on the cot, and you changed into some more comfortable clothes.

Cool air pushed into the space of your room as the flap was lifted open. The familiar silhouette of Ghost emerges from the dark of night. The singular propane lamp the once source of light cast a warm orange hue over him. He stood by the entrance, and his presence was somehow larger than himself. Needing only one long stride into the room and closing the tent flap behind him.

“Hello, Riley,” you smiled up at him. It was the first time you saw him since you got here, he was busy with debriefs and briefings and securing the perimeter. As per Soap. He was also the one who brought your bag to your tent. As per Soap.

“How are ya’ feelin', Doc?” he sat down on the chair across from your bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. His attention was now wholly on you.

“I’ve been better,” you breathed, scared that if you spoke any louder you’d break the serene ambience he carried in with him. As if the night air had clung to him, and followed him into the tent. The unconvinced gaze he gave you made you yield, “It’s been a long day. I don’t really know where to start.”

“Start with how you’re really feeling,” he suggested with a hint of a tease, his accent coming off thick. That happened every time he got tired.

“I was talking to him right before he died. He was alive. He was completely fine,” If you hadn’t allowed yourself the time to cry before he came you would have started now, but if you were being honest you were just too exhausted. You continued, “I don't get it. How did he die? And all I get was a scrape?”

He clasped his hands together, his fingers fiddling with the velcro strap on his glove, “Luck. Nothing more. Nothing less. There’s no bigger meaning behind it.”

“Is that how you do it?” you ask. It had to be more than just luck for him.

“Sometimes,” he gives a one-shouldered shrug, “Sometimes it’s because of my brother in arms. Other times is just the training kicking in.”

“I guess that’s where you and I are different, huh?” even though you two sat maybe five feet apart, you were worlds away from each other. He eyed from beneath his brows, something unsaid glinting behind his eyes.

“You’ve been biting your tongue,” you tilted to the side to try and get a look at his face, “What is it?” You searched his eyes, looking for an answer to a question you didn’t even to ask. He shifted, loosed a sigh and dropped his head.

“You know,” you sighed meekly.

“You’d think after all you’ve seen come through your tent you learn to stay away from a warzone,” he chided, “and yet you volunteer.”

“Who told you?”

“No one told me,” he hisses, irked at your assumption he needed such help, “I have spent months keeping your name off the roster. So, when your name popped up on my latest assignment you’d understand my surprise.”

You blinked at him, your mouth forming an “O” shape at his admission, “You what?”

“I wasn’t going to let you get sent out there.”

“What have you been telling them?” there was no way. There was no way he was the reason they kept pulling your files. Why you never seemed to be climbing the ranks.

He remained utterly silent and completely still.

“Speak, Riley,” if you weren’t injured you would have slapped him, “What. Have. You. Been telling them?”

“That you’re a liability,” he spoke fast, the words falling out of his mouth like marbles.

You sucked in a breath before an angry sob ripped out of your chest, “You fucking bastard. How dare you.”

“I did it—”

“Oh, fuck off,” you couldn’t even look at him, couldn’t bare sharing the same air as him right now. He had crossed a line and he had no right holding you back the way he did. For months you had watched as other medics were sent off and promoted while you had hit a wall and had no idea why. You wondered why they always seemed to keep a closer eye on you.

Now you knew. It was because of him.

Hot angry tears blurred your vision and you shook your head, “I cannot believe you. You ruined my career,” The career you had worked your ass off for. The career you put your literal blood, sweat, and tears into. All it took was a few choice words from him and it all turned to nothing.

“You would have been killed,” his voice shook as he took a step towards you. Only to freeze when you put up a shaky hand.

“You think I didn’t know what I signed up for when I joined the army?” you ask him incredulously, shifting into a sitting position, your feet dropping to the floor, “I’m not some child that needs looking after!”

“I know.”

“You obviously don't, Riley,” you gritted your teeth, biting back the yelp of pain as you stood up. He moved to catch you should you fall. You seethed at him, “Because you still did it. Whatever saviour complex you have…I want none of it.”

There was a long moment of silence. Then he gave a curt nod and stepped back, “Understood.”

“Now leave.” You squeezed your eyes shut and waited.

Leave, before I strangle you.

Was what you really wanted to say to him.

If it weren’t for the sound of the tent flap you wouldn’t have heard him leave. Not even his clothes made so much as a whisper as he left. His footfalls are silent as he disappeared back into the night.

Part 3

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

A/N: let me know if anyone would like to be put on a general writing taglist

Tag List: @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod fanfic #cod ghost #cod x reader #MW2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley angst #MistyGhosties

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cannedmuffins · 1 year

Text

König x Lena

This is the 3rd time I have tried posting this. Tumblr has just been eating my posts as of late.

Also if enough people show interest I might do bios for her and Hawk at some point 👀

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

Text

Fit for a King - WIP - "Let me patch you up"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König and FMC just came back from a mission that went well, but FMC got hurt as they were trying to help one of the other operators. (random chapter in the König x FMC fanfiction, not chronological)

CW: bullet wound, some medical stuff, NSFW, explicit scenes 18+, slight tension & angst

a/n: I just keep writing, we'll see what will come out of it (this got way more angsty than I anticipated it to be)

(NSFW - explicit sex scenes - later in the chapter)

Medic ward:

"Are you sure, you're okay?" I can hear the worry in his voice, even if he seems to try and hold back. "Yes, I already said it thrice. ‘T’is but a scratch." I smile up at him hesitatingly, ignoring the pulsating pain in my thigh. The Monty Python quote is lost on him anyways. His brows are furrowed as he's looking down at me. He doesn't believe me. I sigh when he suddenly whips his head to the side.

"Doktor*, can I patch her up?" Before I can protest, Doc already put the first aid case in his hand. "Knock yourself out, as long as you do it somewhere else, Colonel." He looks at him like a father who has a child with bad temper tantrums on his hands, but König – as always – is oblivious to that. "Thanks, Herr Doktor*.", he says with a pep in his tone. Then he picks me up and carries me out the medic ward. "König, I can walk. The others are gonna see…", I protest, weakly, but I do protest. "Shut it, Mauserl**.", he throws back at me, clipped. "You should have never been there." I sulk a bit, but I know he’s right. "Should have, would have. How do you say? Hätte hätte Fahrradkette***?", I say between clenched teeth. My wound is still seeping blood into the fabric of my pants and now on König's shirt.

He carries me with ease in just one hand, with the other still holding the case. His long legs make huge strides down the hall, heading to the dorms, but as we pass my room, I get that he’s carrying me to his. “König…” He doesn’t look at me, just shakes his head. “Don’t.” I know him well enough already, that I can sense the distress emanating off him. Making it hard for him to say what he’s really feeling. He opens up the door to his room. I mean, it’s smart, we’ll be alone here, but it might also raise suspicions if the team gets wind of it. He sets me down on his bed and turns on the bedside lamp. “Hold still.”, he says and gets all the stuff out to dress my wound. Before I even see what he’s doing, he’s already cut my pants off. “What are you doing?!”, I scream at him. “That’s how you do this. Stop fretting.” His Austrian accent is as strong as ever. I don’t listen to what he’s saying, everything being too much. “You didn’t need to cut it off, we could’ve just-“ I move again, I can’t even sit-

“STAY STILL.”, he shouts and his hands grip me, gripping my waist, almost reaching around, as he pushes me down on the bed. I still because he never – NEVER – shouted at me like that before. My mouth stands open, I look up at him. He sighs, deep and desperate, and I hear his voice wavering as he puts his forehead against mine and says: “Please… just let me patch you up.” I feel his hood falling against my face and his warm and comforting smell cuts through the stench of blood and sweat. “Okay”, I breathe. His hand caresses over my cheek as he nods. “Gut****” He sits back on his knees and the room is immersed in silence.

He takes the disinfectant and cleans the area around the wound of the graze shot. The small noises and our intermingled breaths are all I hear. I feel his hands on my naked legs and the pulse in my wound quickens. “It didn’t stop bleeding.”, I whisper as I don’t want to disturb the quiet we’ve sunk into. “Hmm.”, is all he says before he presses a bandage against it. The bloods seeps through again and stains his fingers even more. “I’m gonna have to give you stitches, Liebes*****.”, he murmurs. I nod and he gets the needle and thread ready. “You have to stay still, okay?”, he orders me. “Hold onto me.” I grab his arm, the one not stitching me up, and as the needle sinks into my skin, I gasp dragging my nails into his muscles. “Yes, you’re doing so well for me.”, he whispers as he caresses my other thigh, preparing for the next stitch. I press my lips together, not to make any sounds. When he’s done, he puts a bandage over it to secure the stitched-up wound.

König sighs like there’s a huge weight falling off him and he meets my eyes again. The raw emotions in them scare me a bit. “Are you okay?”, I ask him as I put my hand on his cheek. He doesn’t answer my question but pulls me to the edge of the bed. “I need to be inside you. Please.” His hands trail up my inner thigh until he reaches my panties. The surprise hits me as he leans forward, his hood brushes over my skin and then I feel his lips on my neck. Soft kisses trail up to my ear and need settles in, low in my belly. “I need to feel you.”, he whispers, his hot breath skitting over the wet patches of his open-mouthed kisses, as he carefully pulls down my undies. He holds me close to him which gives me the opportunity to undo his belt. He nibbles at my neck and sucks on the sensitive spot, right below my ear, as I take out his dick and position him at my wetness. He doesn’t hesitate one bit, pushing into me slowly. A soft moan falls from my lips as I stretch around him. “Fuck.”, he mutters, burying himself in me. He’s still holding me close, not moving at all for a few seconds. I grip his sides, letting my nails sink into his back, as I adjust to his size and wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.

All the other times it had been fast. Passionate. Entangled limbs and hard thrusts until my legs gave out and I couldn’t move anymore. The other kind of human battering ram, if you catch my drift, because König fucks just like he fights. Putting the ‘insertion’ and the ‘specialist’ into ‘insertion specialist’. I was used to him jerking me on his cock how he liked it and me just taking it like a good girl, that I was completely… at a loss for words. Seeing him kneel before me, buried deep inside me, fucking me with lazy, languid strokes, while his hands are caressing my back, stroking over my sides softly. This is different. Slow, tender. Almost lovingly.

“You feel so good.”, he tells me. “But…” I halt. “But what?” – “I want to kiss you.”, he whispers. Okay, so this is definitely different from all the hasty stolen moments we had together so far. Even when he ate me out, he didn’t remove his cover, so I actually never saw his face before, except for his eyes. “We can do that.” I swallow down my nerves. “Should I lift your… mask?”, I ask him. He nods and my shaky hands reach for the hem of the hood, slowly pulling up, stopping right over his mouth. I look down, seeing the curve of his lips beneath the fabric as he leans forward. My hand cups his right cheek and I feel his stubble against my fingertips when he kisses me for the first time. His lips press against mine. Soft, so soft, in contrast to his big burly figure. He breaks away for just a moment, his eyes searching mine. König sees something in them that seems to satisfy him and he leans down again. I answer his kiss as a moan slips over my lips, giving him the chance to deepen it.

When his tongue moves against mine, he starts to push into me again. Tingles erupt all over my body and even if it’s not hard and fast like I’d normally prefer, the way he’s holding me, kissing me, fucking me is building up my arousal with every languid roll of his hips. I don’t think I had somebody ever do me like this before and I feel a pang of… some kind of emotion in my chest that I’d rather not dwell on right now. I push it away and concentrate on König again.

I want to feel him close, closer, my other hand, currently not on his face, is trailing up his back, feeling his warm body beneath my fingertips. He pulls me flush against him, picking up a little bit in tempo. Our movements are getting needier and I grind against him, not breaking the kiss, so he swallows up all my sounds and sighs. “Please, Liebes*****.”, he whispers against my lips. “Come for me.” His fingers trail down, finding my clit, stroking at the same pace, repeating his plea. The flood of arousal washes over me as he fills me up again and I can’t hold back the soft scream that escapes me as I come around his dick. I feel him tremble beneath me, coming inside me as the waves of my orgasm subside. All I hear are our intertwined heavy breaths as I still try to grasp what just really happened.

König pulls back, kissing me one more time, then the hood falls back down again. He puts his dick away and buckles his belt before he raises his hand one more time. His thumbs caresses over my cheek, I can feel his fingers on the side of my face. “For a second today, I was afraid that I lost you.” His voice is a whisper, almost soundless. His words hit me, like a punch to the stomach, I didn’t expect him to say anything about it, to feel this way. Before I can answer, he gets up and for the first time I register that he is still fully clothed, stains of blood all over his shirt, mine and the enemies. His tattooed forearms and hands are bloody. We didn’t even wash off the remnants of the fight before we fucked. The tender moments form a stark contrast against the blood and violence. The 6’10’’ killing machine standing in front of me whose hands can rip enemies apart, but I only know the pleasure they give me, how they caress me, how they patched me up today,

“Where are you going?”, I ask him as I look up at him. He looks down on the floor and I can see him shutting down a bit. “I just wanna get some workout done.”, he says finally. “You can stay here, get some rest.” With long strides he’s at the door. “I’m gonna be back… soon. Okay, Mauserl**?” I nod as light from the hallway streams into the room, then the door closes, he’s gone and I’m alone in his bed. I lie down, ignoring the wet sensation between my legs of our combined fluids. I grab the covers and pull them over me. The soft light still illuminates the room and I bask in König’s smell, the blanket and the warm glow giving me the comfort that the man himself couldn’t right now.

Translations: *Herr Doktor: 'Mister doctor', polite salutation for a doctor in german **Mauserl: more austrian version of small mouse ***Hätte hätte, Fahrradkette: a silly german way to say 'what happened, happened, can't do nothing about it now' ****gut: 'good' *****Liebes: 'my love'

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut

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waves-against-a-cliff · 6 months

Text

Abience - Konig x Reader

abience

(n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Length - 1.2k

Content - self loathing, avoidance, military inaccuracies, enemies to lovers slow burn, reader had callsign, no use of Y/N, very little description of readers body.

A/N - I’m so tired but I got this out for you ❤️❤️

Taglist - @lupe222crybaby @princess-pippin

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

You sat in the uncomfortable waiting area chairs, the pounding in the back of your head and the pain in your ribs only worsening as the minutes worn on. You kept your eyes strictly to the floor and pretended like you couldn’t feel his gaze flicker to you every half minute. His gaze felt like lead and water, suffocating and heavy. The uniform was only encouraging this suffocating feeling that threatened to squeeze out every precious bit of air. Was your head always ringing? Did the floor look that blurry a few minutes ago?

“Birdy.”

You looked up and you couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or something else. Your gaze finally finds the nurse that carried a clipboard, an impatient smile on her face. Right, you were at the medical area. Slowly you stood from the chair and tried to not show how weak your knees were in this moment. The white walls reflected the fluorescent lights in a way that was beyond painful as you sat on the elevated cot bed thing as the nurse took note of your temperature and blood pressure. She had written down the bruise on your chest quickly and your heart squeezed a little.

The doctor was quick, like usual. He never stuck around any longer then he had to, didn’t help that there were probably notes in your file about less then pleasant reactions towards others. “I’m going to prescribe a low dose of pain relief. I recommend a heating pad for your chest and lay off the sparring for the next week or so.” And with that he shooed off, probably to attend to the giant that sat scrunched over in the waiting room chair still when you walked out.

He looked ridiculous like that, trying to hide his height. Trying to make himself appear smaller when the task was impossible and just made him look idiotic. “Sit up straight, you look stupid.” You muttered quickly as you walked quickly out of the medical area with the note for Captain Price.

You knocked on the door once before Captain Price told you come in. Wasting no time, you held out the note to him, “Doc said no more sparring for a week.” Price raised a brow and sat up completely in his chair, the lamp beside him illuminating his face and highlighting the dark circles underneath his eyes. He took the note from your extended hand gently and looked over it, his lips pursed as he confirmed it was genuine. You could see the gears turning as he thought.

And you knew what.

“Alright, no sparring.” He conceded and put the note on his desk, you didn’t even bother to relax. He hadn’t even said ‘but’ yet but it hung in the air. “So you and König will practice in the sniping range.”

Oh fuck me

You gritted your teeth and nodded, “Understood sir.”

“Give the man a chance Birdy. He’s a fantastic insertion specialist.” Captain Price said.

You were going to strangle him. Both of them. Strangle Price for pairing you up with a man who can’t sit still like a proper sniper and strangle König for not trying to.

“Do you need-“

“I don’t need you to show me again.” He snapped, the most he’s said in one sentence since the two of you had started. His only redeeming quality was that he was excellent spotter. You pursed your lips but said nothing as he fired off another shot, the ear protection being the only reason the two of you weren’t deaf. You looked through the small hand held scoop to see his hit and clenched it until you heard it starting to snap a little, immediately loosening your grip. It was barely an improvement and you hated the way he looked at you, like he was expecting something.

Praise? Another insult? Couldn’t this day just end already? You sigh, “Let’s keep going, that was an improvement.”

“Nein.” He grumbled and sat up, stretching his lengthy body. “Let me teach you something.” You roll your eyes so hard it hurts a little but you don’t decline. Anything to get out of this purgatory of constantly dealing with his fidgeting and readjusting. A few minutes later you’re holding an assault rifle, a weapon you rarely ever got the opportunity, the privilege, to hold. The weapon is heavy but no where near the weight of your sniper rifle put away in its locker.

König looked at the way you held the automatic rifle and your stance while you tried not to focus on the sheer weight difference. Or the fact that this gun must weigh practically nothing to him. Or how he was- He tapped your foot a little bit to the side before he nodded. “Have you ever used one before?”

“Have I- Of course I have. Just not a while.”

Your aim needed some work but you tried not to think too hard on that fact. Or the fact that König had gotten more comfortable trying to be near you. Suddenly, you were having to go out of your way just to avoid the suddenly clingy giant. Just three more days, you told yourself that morning right before your customary butt-crack-of-dawn run. Quickly, you rushed into the mess hall to grab your breakfast and get out as quickly as possible.

The once ease that this routine had given was long gone. Not when you had to plan around the possibility of running into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have others to train with. He wasn’t out of sparring with the others, just with you as his partner.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You jump a little, tilting your head up to meet the icy blue eyes that you had come to know. “Do you have to sneak up on me?” You snap and his eyes narrow.

“So you are.”

“Not everything is about you König.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” You grumble and push past him, intent on heading off somewhere. Where you did know yet but away from him, just to eat in peace. He grabs your arm and pulls you back yet keeps you steady so your food isn’t spilled onto the concrete floor.

“Don’t act like that.” Just as you’re about to retort he speaks again, “We were getting along.”

“I wouldn’t call that getting along, more like walking a very narrow edge.” You scoff and try to pull your arm from his grip but it only tightens, pulling you even closer.

“Your week is almost up.” He warned and the words that had yet to come from his mouth felt heavy in the air. “I think Price has gotten another mission from the higher ups.” He lets go of your arm and you quickly walk away from him as his words repeat in your head. More importantly, how could he be sure? You scratched at your arm after you sat down, the weight of his words refusing to leave you be.

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod

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biganncookie19 · 1 year

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a cold day off pt1

König x reader

könig x reader

summary: new guy shows up to the base and warms up reader dring his stay. one thing lead to a another.

a/n: this is my first fanfic so not sure how good its. hope you injoy this big guy like a do, i may do a part 2

warnings: slow burn, fluff, agissty, i dont know am doing

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the last couple of days have been quite in the med bay, mostly being marked up to task force 141 being grounded for the next 2 weeks. Something about the last mission was a buss and ended up with soap having a gunshot to the leg and Gaz’s arm with some burns. most of the day I’ve spend reorganizing the office and taking count of stock, taking note that am low on disinfect, ointment and rapping gaze. Deciding to find the captain and ask about when the next supply drop, making my way thought the cold building. “Who idea was to pick the middle of England during the fucking winter for a dame base” I mumble to myself. Not even with baggy cargo pants and hoodie I can still feel the cold nipping at my fingers.

Turing in to the makeshift dining room to Find Captain price with ghost and Gaz looking over the table that was covered in folders and lose papers talking about the next steps for the mission. “captain I got a question for ya” saying while walking over to the table, “whatcha need doc” he grumbled his eyes never leaving the paper in his hand. “ I wanted to know when the next supply drop was going to come in, the med bays running low on materials”. Gaz passing me a paper while saying “it going to be coming in sooner by tonight, do you want one of us to help you load up the truck ?”.Captain Price picks his head up to say “that won't be needed, i called for more arms support The new guy should be coming on the plane. You don't mind picking him do you y/n?’.

“As long as he helps load up the trunk than ya i don’t mind, less time in the cold for me” shrugging my shoulders putting the paper back on the table.

“Also how’s soap doing haven't seen him around base”

Ghost replies first “he been in bed all day, came down with a small cold”

“ ah, tell him to get his butt out of bed and to see me in the med bay when I get back to check over him,” saying while walking over to the coffee pot to pour myself a cup for the night. “ Who's the new guy anyway?”.

Captain Price leans back in his chair to say “he is an insertion specialist with a private military company apparently he is more on the shy side, so try not to scare him off’ y/n”. Finishing Stirring sweetener into my cup “was hoping for another lady but he shall do” taking a sip out of the cup, also hoping there is some milk on the plane.

It is around 7am when I got to the airport and had to wait in the truck until it was safe to park the truck close to the plane to load it up. Rubbing my hands together to warm them up I really should have bought another jacket, so I don’t freeze my ass off even with the heater all the way up it only helps a little. Seeing one of the runway men give all clear to go in, staring up the car to back it up. Whence lined up to the plane putting the truck in park and jumping out of the truck to see the new guy and the supplies. One the pilots comes up to me with a click board in hand “this is for you to sign also the new guy should be out in a little bit” signing the paper and handing it back to him. “There no rush, let start loading the truck I am pretty sure no one wants to be out here longer than they need to”. Walking over to the back of the truck to drop the tailgate and help load, turning around to only to see a massive man walk down the ramp. He's wearing some kind of hood covering all of his face, kind of like ghost but only taller and skinnier. I hold my hand out for him to shake “ the name’s y/n am the medic for the team you can put your bag in the front of the truck and can you give me a hand moving the boxes?” He takes my hand engulfing it with his, giving it a small shake nodding his head but never meeting my eyes.

After putting his bag in the truck, he starts helping me move the boxes picking them up like it’s nothing and without losing breath. To say it didn't make me blush a little bit would be an understatement, but what really caught my eye was his surprisingly small waist! The members of 141 are more on the big side having to be well built with muscle and some fat, and I thought ghost had the small waist. Leaning back after the both of us finish with the boxes, now that i can get a better look at the new guy he’s very tall for sure maybe around 6’10 but kind of looks goofy with the big puffy jacket.

“ I take it you're not used to the cold?” I say trying to at least make the car ride back not awkward.

“ n-n-no ma'am I don't take well to this k-kind of weather” he spurs out

“Same here, let’s get going. I have the heater on inside” quickly turning around to get inside the trunk. Oh god. His voice is not at all what I expected, hitting right in the soft spot with his dorkie high voice. Come on y/n, you can handle this there is no reason a man with a dorkie voice, tall and strong should be leaving you blushing like a high school girl. Just drive back to base and you’ll be fine. Ones’ were both in the truck I rub my hands together trying to warm them up before driving, I can feel someone’s eyes burning into the side of my head. “ so mm i don't think i got your name?” turning to catch his eyes.

“i-it’s König ma’am” even with the mask i can see that he has soft doe eyes that are covered in some kind of black eyeshadow. Taking a quick glance down to his hands, he is playing with his slender fingers.

“Yeah, there no need for formalities am just the doctor” i try to wave off seeing if that would make him any less nervous

“O-oh i'm-sorry” his voice cracks a bit and his eyes snap to his fingers and sinking back into the seat, it looks like he's trying to make himself smaller. Dag it y/n now he looks like a sad jellyfish.

The drive back to base was awkward but manageable. Turning off the truck and opening the door had the cold hitting right in my face like a wall. “Come on let's get inside before it gets colder” jumping off the truck and closing the door.

“B-but what about the supplies?’’ König asked

“We can get them tomorrow, come on big guy” I say while waving my hand to follow me inside. Basically, jogging to escape the harsh outdoors. Following me close behind with his bag in hand. Opening the door to get in, I guess I forgot to say watch your head cuz i heard a thunk behind me. quickly turning around to see König holding his head down grumbling in pain, without thinking my hands instantly went to check his head. “are you ok, am sorry i should have given you a heads up” Rambling out

“N-n-no no no I should have been looking” he said looking up, realizing that I have his face in my hands and atop of his. Pulling my hands back, shoving them into my pockets, I spilled out “ w-we should go get you to the team” turning around to speed walk to the makeshift kitchen. At this point I’m pretty sure my face is all red, I just want to go hide in my office. Getting to the room I see captain price, ghost and gaz all still at the table, “sup, I got the new guy” i moved to the side to give König space to see the others. Captain Price was the first to get up to greet König “welcome to the team König, with your skills I am sure we can pull through the mission” he gave a smile to König. König hands caught my eye again , his free hand fingers were rubbing together hard.

As the team started talking i Slipped out of the room, skedaddle back to my room since it’s closer. Closing the door behind me and leading on it, he’s only been here less than 3 hours and he’s already got me all flustered. Thinking back to when I had my hand on top of his, his hands were rough and warm. I wonder what his hands would feel like ar- .no no no put yourself together y/n he’s here to do his job not rail some chick he just met, his probably stressed out and nervous. Mumbling to myself, I’ve been stationed out here for a long time i haven't had any intimacy with another person i guess i just jump on whatever chance there is now.

Its whatever now, its late and i would like to sleep this off and get stuff done tomorrow. Looking around my room seeing clothes all over the floor and on the spare bed, i was lucky to score a room to myself. I wouldn't mind sharing a room with one of the guys but i like knowing my eyeshadow hasn’t been raided by ghost and the room doesn't smell. Changing out of my cargo pants into some short shorts, cuz for the life of me i cant sleep in any kind of pants. Taking off the hoodie to only leave the light long-sleeve. walking over to my bed ready to throw myself into my mess of blankets

A knock at the door catches my attention, opening the door i see gaz. “ yo price wants to see if its ok to have König in your room tonight?.i would have him in my room i would like if König doesnt get sick by soap”. “Auh yeah am fine with that just need to clean” i spill out, god my heart is racing right now why would i say yes. “Don't trip on your clothes” gaz said laughing as he walked away

Panicking i shove some of the clothes under my bed, picking up the rest and shoving it into my drawers. Rushing to clear off the spare bed and cleaning it off. A another knock on the door, dag it dag it “ give me a minute” i shout out. I rush over to my desk to spray myself with a body spray,just in case.

Rushing over to open the door for König, seeing him stan there so unsure of himself makes my heart pater a little bit. “ sorry for the wait i had to clean up a bit, so sorry for the mess” i breathed out moving to the side for him to come in. he walks in and stands next to the spare bed putting his bag down “ a-a-are you sure yo-your ok with me being here?” i waved him off. “ its fine König am use to men being around, plus you also need your sleep”

I move over my bed to mess with it and clear it off to sleep, i can hear König move around a bit than the bed creaking under his weight. As i was done messing with the bed i move on to my desk to organize it since am no where close to sleepy. As am walking over to the desk i see König siting on the bed taking off parts of his gear but not his mask. I turn to him asking “ if you don't mind me asking König do you take off your mask or your like ghost who sleeps in it?” hes leaning on hes knees one of which is jumping, not looking at me

“ i p-pefer to k-keep it on”

“Ah gotcha, i don't mind it” he glazes up for a sec but not to my face, i blush a bit moving to my desk to do something. Before i walked away i took note on how hes wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hangs to his frame. He dose look good tho

After like 6 mins at being at my desk i get up to leave the room to give König some space, but as i was going to walk pass him he gets up right as am front of him. It feels likes like running in to a tree almost knocking me over. But before i could fall over i feel König slender hands land on my hips keeping me in place

“ a-a-am so sorry y-y/n i wasn't -l-looking, are you alright??” he sounded panicked

Every part of me is red and hot at this point, realizing his hands are still on my hips. I push my self off “ i-it fine König it fine am just going to the bathroom” i say with my hands up leaving the room. Rushing to the bathroom I get in closing the door. Leaning over the sink “ get a hold of yourself y/n you cant fold this easily “I mumbled out. Looking down at my leg’s which are barely even covered, I move my hands to where König had his placed. I can still feel his warmth and the pressure i smiled a bit. Oh god he must feel horribly i cant imagine how bad his anxiety is right now.

I calm myself down taking deep breaths and splashing my face with some icy water. I walk back to my room and open the door, soon as i go in König stans up and he starts talking fast fumbling over his words. No doubt hes also flustered trying to apologize for bumping into me. I wave my hands “it fine really it was a accident your fine” i say trying to calm him down.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes König”

“O-ok” he says siting back down on the bed, oh this man is too cute

“Oh! I almost forgot to give you a pillow and blanket” i turn around to grab some form my bed

“ oh y-y/n you d-don't have to, you al-already done so must for me” he tries to protest

“Nonesec König you said so yourself you don't do well in the cold” i bend over to pick up the bedding to give to him. As soon i turned around König head snap to the floor, pretty sure he was looking at my ass. cheeky man. I handed him my spare pillow and blanket “do you want another pillow?”

Still not meeting my eyes he spits out “your t-too kind this is f-fine thank you”

I gave him a nod i turned around to go to bed, as i climbed in i looked at König one last time. Now in the light I can see that there two faded red line’s coming down from König eyes holes. “König If you don’t mind can you turn off the light when you’re done, please. He’s head come up “yes well do”

I turned around and laid my head on my pillow.

Let’s hope tomorrow is a lot better

#call of duty #cod mw 2022 #slow burn #x reader #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #cod mwii #fluff #cod imagine #könig x reader #köing #könig mw2 #König imageine

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dovithedarklord · 4 months

Text

Age of Monsters - Chapter Fourteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

New developments are revealed, and the small team gets involved in interesting new adventures.

Hello!

A little late, but Merry Christmas to you all!

I have a few trigger warning for this chapter! Detailed description of blood, violence and injury.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Fourteen

......................................

The soft ringing of the communicator fills the silence that settled between the walls of the office with a deafening sharpness, and with each passing second, the urge to smash the wretched device against the wall grows more and more. As I glance at the two Hunters standing next to me on my periphery, I can immediately identify that they are also raging with the exact same helpless fury and astonishment that is driving my consciousness towards a complete nervous breakdown. There is no denying that our little trip started rather unluckily, and ended with such a surprise that helps us slowly sink into a mess from which it's not certain that we will be able to climb out anytime soon. And although the burglars ransacked the whole place quite skillfully, we were left with enough clues to piece together what the hell could have happened in the slaughterhouse that the facility had become. After our little research, at Alejandro's suggestion, we made our way back to the base, and I had the opportunity to admire what kind of crumbs we managed to collect, and the fact that I became a naked, shredded nerve fiber is an understatement. Life has dragged many fools into this world from the womb of their mother, but Alviar surpasses all of them, with which the only non-negligible problem is, that we bear the brunt of his stupid god-role-play. Or rather, humanity.

Suddenly, the blue hologram appears from the device, and in the small window of the call our two friends forgotten at home take shape, who presumably retreated to Price's office and were already waiting for us on the edge of their seats to finally give word about the progress of our investigation. And it doesn't take the captain's keen eyes more than a few seconds to realize that something is very wrong, because as soon as he sees our trio and the gloom sitting on us, then any hopeful expression with which he might have joined our chat disappears from his face in a blink of an eye.

"Is there a problem?" Price inquires cautiously, and although his voice comes through the communicator crackling, I can clearly make out the seriousness in his tone. And judging by the way his eyebrows slowly meet on his forehead in a troubled grimace, it's evident that he's already started making theories in that sharp brain of his, wondering what we might have discovered during our hike in the mountains that helped us put on this gentle, ominous radiance in such beautiful unison.

"We're in some deep shit." MacTavish says almost immediately, perfectly summing up the conclusion of the clues we found with this one sentence. There is no mistake in my Scottish friend's statement, because as soon as we shared what we came across in the maze of the research institute, we quickly realized that the fucking chaos we experienced on the city mission was just a friendly little party compared to what the good doc cooked up in the basement of his humble residence. Because Alviar's handiwork has the potential to make us think back fondly to the experience that we enjoyed in or failed mission.

"To say the least." I add, pulling the corner of my mouth into a sour line, and as the very fresh sight of the strange corpse discovered in the lab pops up in my head, I don't try to stop the frown that moves to my face from the nervousness that has moved into my head. And this is enough for the two men waiting at the other end of the call to put on the well-recognizable features of confusion, now probably burning with the desire to finally have someone blurt out what the hell could have happened.

"What did you find?" The bearded Hunter asks, and even in the faint glow of the hologram, I can see doubt creeping into his blue eyes with insidious certainty, as he slowly realizes that we haven't contacted him in the company of the fantastic developments he was hoping for. At the beginning of our little adventure here, even I had the foolish hope that maybe fate would be kind and throw a complication in our path that we are able to iron out. But now I've learned that I shouldn't beg for karma, because every single time the bastard proves that it can and wants to show me surprises that make me lose my mind.

"The research institute is destroyed. Someone got there before us and killed everyone." My Scottish friend begins to elaborate on the events, and I catch it only from the corner of my eye, as his mouth presses into a thin line, and his unfocused gaze settles on the table, as if he wandered off to somewhere else in his mind for a moment. And I have a inkling that he is projecting the victims of the senseless bloodshed on the canvas of his consciousness again, as if he is looking for more motivation to brace himself for revenge, which he is no doubt considering. What a shame that we are once again left without a culprit, so there is no one to vent all the creative tricks of his brutality out on.

"Alviar created a mutant-human hybrid." I share this little tidbit with the captain quickly, leaving no time for him and Garrick to react to the first unfortunate incident. Because this is the detail that, in addition to the tragic silence of the facility, contributed to the tension inside me, which slowly helps my stomach shrink to the size of a tennis ball. And it seems that I'm not the only one who is filled with a sufficient amount of anxiety by the new information, because when the two Hunters on the other side of the line understand what I have shared with them, the icy shock of recognition appears on their faces with definite outlines. Because they also know very well that this is a catastrophic turn for us even in the best-case scenario.

"What?" The surprised question breaks out from Price, and I could swear that I have never had the pleasure of seeing the man so astounded. For a moment, the self-confident calmness slips from his face, and if the situation weren't so terribly serious, I would surely enjoy watching his mouth open in astonishment, like fish washed up to the shore, starving for oxygen. But now, even my witty little mind doesn't want to dwell on this, because the stress dancing on my nerves helps to direct my thoughts back to the topic immediately.

"Based on the notes found in the lab, he created a serum from the DNA of multigenerational mutants, which is capable of creating a lifeform from humans that is more intelligent than an I.H.L." I summarize the knowledge of the myriad of documents I found, and this very simple fact sounds even more impossible when said out loud. I wasn't mistaken that I managed to stumble upon a whole gold mine on the computer, because I got my sly little hands on every single research and experimental log, observation record, and other similarly interesting tidbits created up to that point. And among the data I found in these documents, I had plenty of options as to what I wanted to be more horrified by. Alviar bit off more than one could chew with his entire work, because the virus that subverted humanity was too fast-changing from the beginning to even be able to make a vaccine against it. Although it became obvious after the appearance of I.H.L.s that the human body is also a suitable host for the pathogen, my dear colleague soon realized that he wouldn't be able to achieve results different from the original course of the infection if he tried to play with the virus itself. And even I can't deny what a brilliant idea it was on his part to use multigenerational mutants, because the changes of the infection in their genetic material remained stable enough for the doc to be able to work with it. The doctor made an amazing breakthrough, but it doesn't change the fact that only a full-blown idiotic fool would do something like that if he knew there was even the slightest chance of shit hitting the fan. And it did hit the fan, big time. "According to the test records, their physical strength and endurance is similar to that of other infected lifeforms, but in the case of hybrids, their cognitive abilities remain completely intact." I continue my not-so-rosy explanation, laying out the most important pieces of information in broad outlines, because I have a feeling that no one is interested in the exciting scientific details, but rather in the shit we are sinking deeper and deeper into every day.

As the shock on the faces of the two men freezes for a frightening moment on the projected image, it occurs to me that maybe technology is playing a cruel joke on us, and the connection with the home base has been lost. It's only then that I realize that only my little presentation has been too effective, when Garrick pushes himself away from the table with some colorful curses rolling off from his tongue, running his palms over his head in an angry motion, as though he wanted to test that he was really in reality and not just in some morbid dream. And I can sympathize with the existential crisis he must be going through, because even my brain had a hard time accepting that there are indeed such ambitious but extremely single-minded people who are willing to risk the fate of the world for the sake of their powerful friends and a fat credit or two.

"Bloody hell..." Garrick mumbles his insults under his breath, slowly clasping his hands behind the back of his head, directing his dark eyes to the ceiling, maybe looking for an answer there to those troubling doubts that are surely already filling his consciousness with ever-increasing enthusiasm. "But why?" The very legitimate question emerges from him, as he finally turns back towards the conversation and spreads his hands wide, channeling all his frustration in this one movement.

"They want to replace us." Riley also joins the conversation, and his voice reaches such dangerous depths that I can almost feel the poison raging inside him, hidden behind his mask of indifference, on my skin. His anger is understandable, because we were faced not only with the fact that my colleague cooked up a catastrophic new danger in the darkness of his basement, but also with the reality that with this thoughtless experiment, they also wanted to reshape the system that had been standing on an unsteady ground, to begin with. "There aren't enough of us, and there are more and more of the I.M.L.s."

From this one statement, the face of the Hunters on the other side suddenly turns into something quite scary, and the somber mood creeping into Price's features inevitably awakens the instinct of flight in me. Even though we are separated by thousands of kilometers, even through the image from the communicator, I can feel every single spark of hatred burning in those pair of bright eyes, which tells me that the doctor is almost lucky that someone else blew a hole into his head, because I suspect it was a still kinder death, than what the bearded man would want to give him after what he had heard.

"Based on the research data, they wanted to create artificial soldiers akin to the Hunters. But since they had no luck synthesizing the DNA of the Hunters, when they saw that during the new evolution of the virus, humans could also survive the infection, they thought they would give it a shot." I attach my explanation next to the masked Hunter's grim comment, briefly outlining the quite logical, but no less spineless and immoral solution, with which Alviar wanted to remedy the problems that have arisen in recent years. There is no doubt that the doctor started his work along a very real and pressing issue, no matter how much he went astray on a path full of dangers and moral questions. I also don't argue with the fact that with the spread of the virus and the interbreeding of the I.M.L.s, the amount of beasts to be exterminated has greatly multiplied, compared to which the Hunters, unfortunately, didn't manage to be born in sufficient numbers, of course. Several decades ago, with highly questionable reproduction experiments, the government already tried to create Hunters in a natural way, practically forcing both male and female Hunters to mate with each other. Of course, they realized the problem very quickly, because sadly both the Hunter and the Healer genes showed recessive inheritance, so although, with a sour taste in their mouth, the authorities were forced to leave the right to create their little butchers to nature and luck. And it seems that after many years the attempts have started again, first with the DNA of the Hunters, then after the failure, with that of the mutants. The goal was obviously to increase the number of people fighting against mutants with this new invention, and to create a species with whom there is no need to fear that they erase half a colony without regeneration. And this would indeed have been a very tempting solution if Alviar hadn't completely ignored the fact that the basic properties of the virus include not only the boosting of physical strength, but also aggression for its easy spread. Of course, this didn't stop my colleague from trying to make the new superweapon since the appearance of the first I.H.L.

"Nothin' is enough for these fuckin' bastards." MacTavish hisses from between his clenched teeth, shaking his head resignedly, and his voice is filled with such bitter anger that it makes me feel sorry for him for a fleeting moment. He feels betrayed, and even I can admit that he is right. He and his companions have put their whole lives on the line so that the people can live out their days in safety within the walls of the colonies, without having to worry about a beast gutting them alive. The same peace is enjoyed by the upstanding member of the government, who rest in the warmth of their offices, behind their desks, in the peace that their loyal dogs create for them by wading in blood. All this so that they can reach for the first solution, weak even as a hypothesis, with the greatest peace of mind, which may bring even more tamed fools to their feet to serve them. One might think that they do this out of love for their people, but only morons are so naive. The government knows too that a new tool is needed against the growing threat, so why not create something whose mental stability is not tied to conditions and can be sacrificed, because they can produce a new one to replace the dead at any time? They don't have to spend years and huge resources on their training, but with a tiny ampoule of miracle medicine, they can turn anyone into a weapon. It's just a bonus that they managed to get a large number of subjects for the experiments from the many law-breaking prison inmates. How fucking smart.

"And what about the I.H.L. from the city? Is that a hybrid too?" Garrick suddenly speaks up, thus diverting the conversation to another interesting component, which caused me quite a headache at first. Because the hybrid found in the morgue and the mutant-rider I.H.L. have very visible differences between them. While our friend observed in the city remained surprisingly human, it was disfigured in the same way as the rest of its species, although it hadn't turned into a grotesque, lanky creature, as unsuspecting victims do after being bitten. But the hybrid... It's a different story. Alviar produced a spitting copy of a full-grown, at least S-class Hunter, except for the abnormal sharpness of the teeth, the characteristic whiteness of the eyes, and the sickly paleness of the skin. That creature, with one or two negligible differences, is a human, not a degenerate monster.

"Oh, no. That one was bitten by a hybrid." I give this very simple answer, and as a wry smile makes its way to my lips, my two friends appearing on the hologram know as well that this isn't a joke. "The bite of the hybrid only affects humans, and the infection creates a less intelligent lifeform. Smart, but just enough to obey the hybrid and be able to attack in an organized manner. Only an improved I.H.L." I further elaborate on this subtlety, deepening the gloom of our companions listening to us in our small home, because this is certainly a fact that brings the mess we've fallen into full circle. If the existence of the hybrid itself were not enough, which according to the data easily rivals a Hunter in terms of physical strength and endurance, then we also have to face the fact that the bastard is also able to make its own little minions, thus creating an entire deformed army for itself. And the icing on the cake is that, unsurprisingly, the hybrid gets along very well with the other members of its little mutant family, and is able to play the role of the leader if it feels like it, thus bringing the diverse multitude of infected lifeforms under its power.

"If the hybrid was in the research institute, how could it bite anyone?" Garrick continues his quizzing, leaning on Price's desk with his palm, and it seems that his brain, stimulated by stress, is pouring out better and better insights, one after another. And I'm not surprised, because my little fan boy's mind is sharp as a knife, and he immediately put together the rather small detail that I couldn't grasp with my mind either, until we found the embarrassingly simple answer to it. "And how did that I.H.L. get this far?

"Easily. Because the hybrid was made-to-order." Riley answers, spitting the words with contempt, and although he seems to be a model of composure and coolness even after such serious discoveries, I only need to observe the furrows slowly appearing around his eyes and the strong line of his jaw clenching under the material of the mask to know that it's not as easy to restrain his anger with an iron fist as it seems.

"What are you talking about?" Price frowns in confusion, and it seems that this statement fills him with a sufficient amount of foreboding to hold on to his desk and look for a way to ground himself. Although I suspect he guessed as well, that Alviar didn't choose this very interesting field of research out of pure passion, after we learned that the new threats were created by the hands of humans. With many years of experience behind his back, he knows all too well that in this wretched world, only the things that the authorities know about can be executed in the greatest secrecy. Because it's in their interest to hide problematic elements.

"I found Laswell's report in Alviar's office." MacTavish gets to the juicy bit of information he found in the doc's extravagant grave. As it turned out later, I was indeed not mistaken about the poetic sense of fate, because Alviar was executed in his own neat hole of an office. Based on the Scottish man's clever reconnaissance, the intruder probably killed the good doctor with a well-aimed shot after he conjured up the serum hidden in his safe. And I could pat myself on the back for my flawless intuition again, but it would be tasteless to make fun of the dead. His pathetic death is shameful enough for him even in the afterlife. "They wanted to deliver the final product to the customer a month ago, but a little whoopsie happened on the way and the bastard got out. Before he was captured, he bit two guards, one was killed on the spot, and the other was brought home so that the doc would have somethin' to examine."

After the Scottish Hunter shared the content of the report with us in the car, several of our burning questions were answered quite easily. The I.H.L. was able to travel thousands of kilometers undetected to the neighbor of Colony No. 17, because they were traveling there with what was able to create our mutant-riding friend in the first place. Alviar believed that after much effort, he had finally succeeded in creating the perfect specimen, which he could finally show off to his customer. However, he was quite ignorant about how sophisticated the hybrid he created was able to communicate, and he forgot to take into account the very small detail in his big experiment, that the mutants are also able to contact each other with pheromones. So why shouldn't a hybrid be able to perform such a magic trick? So, when the mutant intended for a weapon released its small chemical signals in the wild and the rescue army arrived in the form of monsters, the well-laid plan was overturned. Although the threat was defeated, the hybrid broke free and gleefully munched on two guards, who underwent a transformation so rapid, compared to what had been observed so far, that it was quite impressive. Under normal circumstances, it would take a few days for the changes to kick in, but here the two victims began to mutate very quickly in a matter of minutes. One was shot dead immediately, but Alviar insisted that the other to be saved, so that his sneaky hands could get closer to him. So the tattooed man survived the entire ordeal to turn into an experimental subject, and the one, who was believed to have been left behind to die, easily healed himself with the abilities he developed from the virus and set off to the nest where we later met him. It's a real fucking bedtime story.

"Who was the customer?" Comes the question from Price, and by the sinister curve of his mouth, it's quite clear that although he wants to hear it with his own ears, he has a candidate who is so reckless as to commit such a despicable act. And before, I would have made fun of the man for so blindly ignoring the many small steps that led up to this point. Because there could have been a whole series of subtle little signs that the sharp-eyed captain should have noticed much sooner. But the fact that fate has once again confirmed another theory of mine doesn't fill me with joy, because my soul aches from the bitter lines of betrayal slowly settling between the Hunter's features.

"Shepherd." Riley shares the name that rests next to Alviar's signature on every single research document, his deep voice filled with a piercing loathing that makes it painfully obvious how much he feels stabbed in the back. It's impossible not to notice the way his broad shoulders tense up as his hands clench into fists, as if he wanted to keep chaining his body to immobility with this, before the anger that burns beneath the surface with the heat of slowly bubbling lava erupts.

The masked man isn't the only one who is disturbed by this development, because the room is enveloped in stunned silence as the two Hunters on the other side of the hologram fall quiet upon hearing the shocking information. And I suspect that the fact, that the hand of the leader of Colony No. 17 reaches so deeply into this slow-boiling, bloody upheaval can be enough to make anyone sick. The very person who decided to manufacture disposable replacements was the one who entrusted the unit with the noble task of cleaning up his dirt. Of course, it makes sense why the colony leader entrusted the small team with the task of eradicating the nest, and why he wanted to end the case as quietly as possible. He probably knew what made the I.M.L.s befriend their humanoid counterparts from the moment that wretched footage of the merchant's attack surfaced. He was well aware that the frenzy of his new toy had created the fuckup into which he was most happy to send us to erase, along with every little trace of his crime. The only thing the old man didn't consider was what would happen when his loyal subjects started asking questions, when they found themselves face to face with the terrible mess he had managed to create with the doc. Shepherd was conceited enough to think he didn't have to fear the bites of his loyal dogs. And most of the time it's this presumptuous stupidity that causes the fall.

"That fuckin' scumbag." Garrick snaps in disbelief, filtering the words between his teeth as his expression slowly turns into a snarl of rage. And he isn't alone in his indignation, because I suspect, that the only thing that keeps the Scottish Hunter and his threatening bosom friend in a transient state of calm is that it wouldn't be their own equipment on which they would vent out their anger, should they decide to let the ire pulsing through them in sure waves take control over them. But unfortunately, it's not the time for legitimate resentment, because we have to face a much more urgent complication than the grievances of Unit 141 against the colony leader.

"The hybrid was eliminated after that because it was found to be too dangerous. But the serum was very much preserved. And someone found it long before us." I sprinkled this tiny little nothing that gives me far more cause for concern now than Shepherd's and Alviar's questionable business dealings. For although there is no evidence that the serum was stolen by those who turned the whole facility upside down with such great enthusiasm, it doesn't take more than a few working brain cells to realize what could have been so terribly valuable, that made them visit the facility at all. This drug contains a myriad of horrible possibilities if it falls into the wrong hands, and surely the person who ransacked Alviar's nice home was aware that there was a market niche that he could serve with it.

"We need to find out who took it." Price states almost immediately, formulating the obvious next step for our little team. Because there is no doubt that the culprit needs to be found before they have a chance to pass on the goods. Once we lose the trace of that serum, I have a feeling that the next time we have a chance to catch up with it is when someone has already destroyed half the world using it.

"The bastards tricked the security system, but they weren't thorough enough." Alejandro joins the discussion of the clues, who has been following our increasingly tense discussion silently from a small corner of his office. With determined steps, he gallops closer to our little trio to conjure up from the depths of his pocket the one small object what's existence equals the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. "We found this." He raises the insignia in front of the hologram, on which a rather morbid skeleton-like creature announces the sign of the organization whose brave members have wandered into the research institute for a bloodshed-filled holiday. Although the perpetrators were resourceful enough to temporarily disable the security system in some clever way, they probably didn't have enough brainpower left in the middle of the rampage to not leave one of their dead comrades behind with the clear marking that Alejandro can now show off from his gloved hand to the two men on the other side of the call. Very stupid from the scumbags who had time to play tag with the poor staff of the research institute.

"It doesn't look familiar to me." Garrick comments, shaking his head in confusion, after squinting at the symbol embroidered on the emblem, giving voice to the not-inconsiderable dilemma that crushed our joy in two. Because we found this precious little thing in vain, if none of my fellow knowledgeable Hunters even have the faintest idea about who it belonged to. However, it can be a very organized team if they have produced such a scout badge for themselves.

"Neither to us. But there is someone who knows everyone." Alejandro notes, bringing up the juicy bit of information he shared with us not long ago, giving us a possible way out of the rather hopeless situation in which we found ourselves. "El Sin Nombre. A lowly criminal, but might know who this symbol belongs to." He explains, and his mouth curls in such a sour scowl that it is clear that the unknown villain was involved in enough quastionable deals to establish the Hunter's dislike.

"Catch the bloody arsehole." Our captain issues his firm instructions, giving us the starting push for our next action. "Until then, we make sure that Shepherd won't have another peaceful night." He assures us, and there is an edge to his voice that I can hear from what painful threat he has in store for the colony leader. Because the dark expression that slowly spreads across the face of the bearded man instills that icy temper in his eyes, that promises nothing but revenge and suffering. As I turn my gaze to the unfriendly pair of MacTavish and Riley, I know that they are quite inspired by their captain's drive as well, because even though they can't personally approach the leader of our colony for a little chat, there is someone else they can let out their frustration on. And the poor fool has no idea what kind of storm is approaching.

⃰

Booming music fills the peace of the night, and the flashes of colorful lights from the building not far from us announce what kind of fun is taking place within its walls. And even I think, that it's quite brave that anyone dares to party so cheerfully in the orange zone, even if they are criminals. Of course, I understand that such people have to keep up the act of coolness when they are passing the time behind god's back in the middle of important business negotiations, but I doubt that these tough guys would feel so peachy in pieces if this ruckus encouraged a mutant to join in the fun. And it doesn't matter how many traps they have set up around their little hideout, if anyone can disarm it with playful ease. Although it could also be true that only my Hunter friends have such unique skills, with which they eliminated the tricky little surprises that greeted us when we came to them in a pitifully short time.

Although it must be said that the run-down building in the middle of the wilderness is, if not from the point of view of the mutants, in a perfect place for hiding from the authorities. Just far enough from the colony to avoid prying eyes, and just close enough to return to the walls for a leisurely business meeting at any time. And while one would think that the patrols would easily find a dilapidated structure in the middle of the forest, according to Alejandro's information, this misled them many times so far. Dozens of such crumbling piles of bricks lie in the jungle surrounding the colony, and these cunning little thugs move from one to another so quickly that by the time the authorities get wind of where they hide, they have already done a disappearing act, leaving behind nothing but empty ruins. So terribly sly.

And maybe that's the reason why it took Alejandro two full days to find any kind of usable clue, which told him where this scoundrel named El Sin Nombre wanted to show up again. He'd had to break quite a few noses to get the coordinates of our date tonight out of someone, but I wasn't wrong about him being able to get anything if his fiery drive pushed him to act. Because although it took time, he led us to the abandoned warehouse, where we now lurk under the cover of night like a pack of wolves on the hunt for prey.

The bass drifting away with the wind fills me with an almost nostalgic feeling, because it instantly reminds me of those carefree times, when I didn't have to kneel in the mud, behind a bush and hide without a sound, but I scouted my dinner for the day to a similar rhythm. Those were indeed the easier times when I roamed the streets of the colony as I pleased, but now that life is nothing more than a fond memory left behind. Because for some reason, I don't regret for a minute that I can indulge in the umpteenth excitement of the last few days together with my small team. My eyes automatically search for my two companions, and although I see nothing but shadows moving in the distance and the fleeting flashes of two pairs of glowing red eyes, I know that not far from me they too are following with the same intense attention as I am, how Alejandro and his men slowly sneaks closer to the building.

The Hunter and his soldiers tiptoe between the cars parked in front of the crime den with such invisibility that even I have to concentrate to spot the metallic glint when the knife of one of the men dressed in black sinks into the tires of one of the cars. And suddenly, Alejandro's teaching, which he shared with me while improvising today's action plan, dawns on me. Or there is only one way to catch pests. They have to be smoked out of their nests, so that they then voluntarily run into the outstretched arms of the predator waiting for them. And I have to admit that even I was impressed by Alejandro's slyness, with which he invented the details of our mission, after the interrogated moron finally got chatty enough to spill the info after the unit leader’s rather forceful nagging. And if I take into account that this method also works on mutants, why wouldn't it work on a couple of bandits who will flee the moment the ground gets even a little hot under their feet.

The infiltrating team eliminates the guards lurking around the building with ruthless efficiency, and their victims have no chance to defend themselves, because the soldiers ambushing them appear and cut their throats as quickly as a snake attacking its prey. And when, after a few minutes, the last guard is on the ground, they all gather in front of the entrance of the warehouse, ready to begin the part of the operation where they make the rabbit jump out of the bush, which has no idea how dangerous guests wandered to the threshold of its humble abode.

"Victor 1-1 here. We're moving in " Comes the announcement of the head of the unit on the radio, and my hands automatically wrap tighter around the grip of my pistol, as the adrenaline awakening in my body prepares me for action. The two soldiers hiding not far from me ready themselves for the fun as well, and through the scope of their weapons, they are looking for every small opening that serves as a possible exit from the building, so that they can immediately pounce on anyone who dares to show up from there.

"Copy. We're ready." Riley answers, and as the cruel calmness hiding in his voice creeps into my ears, the excitement in my stomach also stirs up. I could have gotten used to how quickly the man gathers his cool composure, but I'm more and more impressed by the icy purposefulness that fills his thick-accented baritone when he takes on the role of the fearless Hunter. And that makes my heart rate go up, and excitedly pumps the energy ready for action in my body, which makes all my senses suddenly become a thousand times sharper. Because now that I finally don't have to fight for my survival, and I don't have to worry about my own bodily integrity, I can enjoy this adventure a little more.

Alejandro only hesitates for a minute, and in the dull light coming from the building I see him slowly counting down on his hands, so that when he gives the starting push with a wave, he opens the huge door with a single kick to throw the smoke bombs into the crowd inside, and taking advantage of this sudden surprise, pushes into the warehouse with his men. The sound of gunshots mixes with the melodious sound of music, almost providing an undertone to the rapidly developing chaos. Loud shouts penetrate the noise, as the flash of the firing weapons breaks through the colorful dance of the rhythmically changing lights, and the startled members of the crowd caught in the act appear as dark silhouettes on the dirt-obscured glass of the windows. The leader of the unit was indeed right, because although one or two of the more reckless gang members start to fight the soldiers, the others decide to escape ridiculously quickly. As soon as the first window is broken, and a figure dressed in a tacky shirt jumps out to start running toward the depths of the forest, then a rifle is fired from among the trees, and the man falls to the ground, like a sack of flour. This part of our plan may even seem cruel, where we take down all those who try to escape one by one, strictly avoiding to cause a fatal wound if possible, but I have no doubt that if the roles were reversed they would be more than happy to send a bullet into the skull of any of us. We need only one person, and only she must stay alive.

"Take down everyone except the woman!" The noise of the slowly unfolding disorder is interrupted by the yelling of the masked man on the radio, reminding everyone of the most important task of our small group waiting in ambush, and upon hearing the order, the soldiers kneeling next to me aim at the figures rushing out of the building without hesitation. It seems that we may have disturbed a very important party, because each of the thugs, emerging from the structure like frightened birds, are loaded with jewels and weapons that are way beyond the reach of ordinary people. And they start a headlong rush immediately, taking off with pathetic terror for being big-shot criminals. There are a few halfwits among them who jump into their cars to try to get away, but they soon realize that our sly team deprived them of the chance of this escape route a long time ago. And when they become aware of this, they decide to seek cover behind the vehicles and try to target us with their guns instead, but all in vain, because they cannot find any of us, hidden by the protective cover of the bushes and trees.

"The target has disappeared! She left the building!" Alejandro's infuriated yelling disturbs my tense observations, and this is enough information for everyone to get nervous all at once. It's no wonder that everyone tenses up in the blink of an eye, and I hear my Scottish friend's angry swearing in my ears, because this is not good news at all. Because the criminal, which we threw this whole party together for, according to the plan, should have been caught inside by the intruding team already. Since, according to Alejandro, the woman has a bad habit of fleeing as soon as there is even the slightest chance of escaping, and she vanishes again and again just when she is within arm's reach. And if we lose sight of her, we lose the chance to find out who stole our serum.

And this fills my body with just enough adrenaline to turn towards the firefight unfolding in front of the warehouse with intense concentration. But slowly it becomes impossible to make out which new unknown thug burst out of the building, who are the ones who are running and speeding towards the thick of the forest, or who are the ones who are bold enough to try to fight back against their invisible attackers. Suddenly, everything turns into a cavalcade of raining bullets, inarticulate yelling, and shadow-like figures, and it becomes more difficult by the minute to make out anything in the upheaval.

Maybe it's due to my sharp eyes, or the universe is finally smiling at me, because as my gaze darts around in the madness of the fight, for a moment I catch a slender figure on my periphery sneaking almost imperceptibly between the barrels lined up behind the warehouse. A single cry is heard in my brain almost immediately, and it echoes in my skull that I must not let the lowlife escape. My body moves on its own, and almost without thinking, I jump up to back away from our hiding place, ignoring the soldiers who look up in confusion from their weapons, keeping my eyes on the target. Someone is throwing rushed Spanish words at me, probably trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing, but it's muffled by the sound of gunshots. They don't have the chance to react, because I start running with such hasty steps that by the time they come to their senses, I'm already gone.

My legs nimbly carry me through the ground of the forest teeming with roots, and I don't pay attention to the attack of the twigs cutting into my face, because the momentum of the stress hormones raging in my muscles drives me forward instinctively. And as I emerge from the underbrush and bolt forward, avoiding the thousand and one rust-gnawed junk lying on the edge of the battlefield, left behind by the people who worked here perhaps decades ago, then I continue to sprint, embraced by the background noise of the gunshots, like a predator that has caught a scent. Maybe the enemy also sees me, and I feel something whizzing past my ear, but luck seems to be on my side, because not a single bullet hits me, and suddenly a cold determination takes over me that allows me to focus on just one thing. On the woman heading toward the trees, who rushes forward without caring about the turmoil unfolding behind her, leaving each of her accomplices to their fate, like a real cowardly scumbag. But I won't let her disappear.

As soon as I get close enough, I aim my pistol at the gangster who reaches the tree line, and even though I know that my skills are nowhere near sophisticated enough, I pull the trigger before I can talk myself out of it. And I'm even amazed at how close I came to hitting her, because it was only because of the woman's sudden movement that the bullet pierced the trunk of the tree instead of her shoulder. But unfortunately, this is enough of a warning for her to realize that she is caught, and when she flashes her irritated eyes at me, I know that I have to hurry, because from now on I won't be able to surprise her. I start firing again, taking advantage of the opportunity while I still find her in my field of vision, and when she suddenly disappears in the darkness of the forest, I only suppress the colorful words that climb to my tongue and increase my already fast speed.

Without hesitation, I throw myself between the trees to immediately follow the woman's trail, but I can hardly get inside, when suddenly out of nowhere a stick the size of my forearm swings towards me, and it hits my hand clutching the pistol with such deadly accuracy that my fingers involuntarily release their grip due to the force of the blow. I halt with a gasp, as the pain radiates through my arm, and I know from the slow throbbing ache in the back of my hand that I will collect a nice little bruise from this. My gun lands in the leaves with a soft thud as it slips out of my grasp, and I don't have enough time to get over my surprise and reach for a new weapon, because my attacker steps forward from behind one of the thick tree trunks, and unlike me, these few seconds were enough for her to prepare for the fight.

The hunting knife clutched in her gloved hand glints metallically in the light that penetrates through the foliage, and it's only thanks to my sharp reflexes that she doesn't slits my throat as the blade swings towards me, when she charges at me without further hesitation. But she doesn't let up, she strikes again almost immediately, and I thank Price for every punch, kick, and injury, because it's only due to his skillful and consistent teaching that I have any chance of escaping the woman's onslaught. Perhaps it's this muscle memory that allows me to parry her attack long enough to understand that she is far too practiced for me to compete with her abilities. Her movements are like those of a cat, light but deadly, and each of her moves can be the result of years of hard work, which she probably showed off successfully even against more professional opponents than me. And as I hastily back away from her, it becomes painfully obvious that this confrontation can have two very simple outcomes. She either slips away or kills me. And while I'm able to patch myself up, if she manages to drag me off my feet here for long enough, then she will vanish without a trace. And I can't let that happen.

And my brain goes through my options in a minute, and it soon becomes clear that I have only one option to get close to her and handle her with my own technique. And the fiery energy raging inside me doesn't allow me to doubt even a little bit that my plan will work, because I don't have another shot. It's either now or never.

My enemy seems to sense that something is wrong, she takes advantage of my hesitation almost immediately, and when she lunges at me, thrusting her arm forward, I prepare myself for the counterattack, grounding my feet. The knife cuts through my vest like butter, and as the blade sinks into my stomach, only the sensation of dull pressure reaches my brain. I don't give myself time to be shocked, but I suddenly grab the woman's arm holding the weapon so that my free hand reaches towards her with the speed of a venomous snake. And it seems that I finally manage to startle her too, because she doesn't have a chance to react when my hand clamps down on her face and my dull nails dig into her delicate skin. The energy surging inside me rushes along my hand with impatient speed, and as it reaches her, her eyes almost roll back into her skull in surprise. It takes only a moment, and I let go of her arm to let her fall limply to the ground like a rag doll.

When I realize that I have succeeded, the adrenaline racing through my veins begins to dissipate, and suddenly the fact that a blade punctured my stomach reaches my brain. Blinding pain pierces my insides, and I stagger backward groaning, as my body slowly sinks into the shock caused by the agony. All of a sudden, all the strength escapes from my legs, and I fall to my knees, panting, as every single nerve gets paralyzed by the suffering spreading inside me, and my hands just manage to support me, before I too fall face forward in the dirt next to the woman. The quiet little voice in my brain cuts through the screams of misery buzzing in my head and warns me that I need to signal where I am before I even attempt to treat myself.

With trembling hands, I reach for the many devices resting on my vest, and when, after a few moments that seem like decades, my fingers find one of the signal flares trapped in a narrow little loop, I yank it out, crushing the ache that ripples through my body as I pull the blasted thing out of its place. I clumsily snap off the small cap, and gritting my teeth, I push myself off the ground to sit on my heels to keep the signaling device away from me before I even collect a burn injury on top of my existing torment. And as I pull out the cord, and the bright red, sparking flames burst out of the tube, I throw it further away and, taking a deep breath, gather all my remaining concentration to find my radio to inform my little companions about my fruitful private stunt.

"This is Viper... I caught the target." I speak up as soon as I find my voice, focusing with every cell on the movement of my mouth, instead of the heat of the blood soaking the fabric of my shirt. "I'm at the signal flare..." I add, suppressing the painful moan that is bubbling up in my throat, because I don't need the whole team to witness my torture, which I voluntarily caused to myself.

Even if there is an answer, I can't understand it clearly, because I can't make out the crackling hum that comes through the radio over the noise of my ever-accelerating heartbeat drumming in my ears. I can feel how the shock is slowly taking over my limbs, and I, falling back into the dust, try to gather all my remaining strength, because I have to overcome the pain that paralyzes my muscles. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take one deep breath after another, but with each breath, the tension of the blade penetrating my stomach only grows stronger, and I have the stray thought that I should finally start healing myself before I bleed to death here after the successful completion of the mission.

"Woods!" The roar of a familiar voice penetrates the fog that has descended on my head, and the pounding of heavy footsteps only faintly reaches me, with which the one who came to save me gets closer to me. And as I feel a large, warm palm on my arm, my eyes slowly open to look to the side, and it takes a few seconds for me to recognize MacTavish crouching next to me, his face distorted by worry. "What the hell..." He would begin his speech, as his eyes glowing in crimson find the weapon wedged into my stomach, but before he can sink into his shock, I weakly gesture forward with my head.

"Take the woman... I'll handle this..." I hiss clenching my teeth, trying not to let too much of the pain radiating through my every nerve ending leak through. Because even through my greatest suffering, I know that there is no need to give way to my weaknesses, because they only draw the attention of those around me to the fact that I'm vulnerable. And even though my hazy consciousness is aware that the man would probably not take advantage of my defenseless situation, it's difficult to overcome old habits, especially when my survival instincts guide my every action.

The Scottish Hunter only spares one glance at the woman lying unconscious not far in front of us, but instead of doing as I tell him, he just wraps his fingers more firmly around my arm, as if to help me find my balance. And I don't have the strength to argue with him anymore, so I surrender myself to the action and search for the handle of the knife with my hand, finding the courage to pull it out after a few shaky breaths. No matter how hard I try to stifle the scream that creeps up my throat, a tortured whimper escapes from my pursed lips, making me look like a wounded, whining dog. Dark spots suddenly swim in front of my eyes from the burning pain, and I try to blink away the dizziness that slowly settles into my head, when finally the last inch of the blade leaves my body. The knife falls out of my hand, but it doesn't bother me, because with an almost instinctive urge, I smooth my palm over the wound, my fingers carefully digging under the material of the torn shirt. Closing my eyes, I look for the panicked energy pulsating in me, and it obeys my pleas and starts its slow journey towards my injury, so when I feel the first cooling waves, as they begin to weave together the torn tissues, I can let out a relieved sigh. It takes a few minutes for my clever little ability to restore my body to its undamaged state, but with each moment my head becomes clearer, and when the last mangled layer of skin closes, I push myself up onto my knees.

"Woods, ya scared the livin' shit out of me!" MacTavish breaks the tense silence, and now I have the free brain capacity to study how his eyebrows are furrowed in disapproval, and the reprimanding curve at the corner of his mouth, which makes it look like he's considering congratulating or scolding me after my stunt. And I'm quite moved by the knowledge that I managed to arouse such concerns in the Hunter, even though I know that I should be ashamed of myself after my little performance. Although I don't think that anyone who throws themselves, without thinking, in front of the enemy for the sake of protecting others has the right to look at me in such a reproachful way.

"As long as they don't aim at my head, I'm fine." I soothe him, putting a small sly smile on my face, graciously allowing him to finally help me up to a standing position. "Don't worry, MacTavish, I won’t kick the bucket so easily!" I assure the man that, contrary to appearances, it's not nearly as easy to send me to the afterlife, merely noting to myself as a side note that our target would have managed to come close to this if she had had a little more time to show off her skills. And as I turn my gaze to the woman immersed in her beauty sleep, I realize that we didn't come across a simple criminal, because I doubt that she would have acquired these amazing moves during the mandatory school training. And something tells me that she didn't manage to hone her skills so effectively during his illegal games either.

"It's not me ya have to convince." The Scottish Hunter announces, gesturing behind my back with his head, and it would be impossible not to notice the line of the faint nasty smile appearing on his mouth, with which he leaves when he finally decides to comply with my earlier request and collect our prey.

And I, confused, tear my eyes away from the man slowly gathering the unconscious woman into his arms, to turn around to find who the hell he could be referring to so mysteriously. Almost immediately, I find Riley standing in the shadows with the stiffness of a statue, his gaze fixed on me almost motionlessly, not paying attention to his companion, who just saunters past me with a wide grin, patting my shoulder absent-mindedly, as tough he wanted to wish me good luck. And for a moment, I don't really understand what the problem could be, because my brain is unable to find a fault in the series of actions that led me up to this point. But as the masked Hunter stalks towards me with measured steps after we are left alone, like a cat about to break the neck of a small bird, I understand that my stunt did not please him nearly as much as I thought. And suddenly I can't understand what got his knickers in a bunch, because for once I didn't disobey orders, I may have improvised a bit, but I did exactly what I was supposed to do.

"It's stupid to risk your own physical safety." He remarks, and his voice sounds unreasonably harsh to my ears, as if the fact of the extremes I'm willing to go to in order to achieve my goal would really bother him. Of course, I know that I don't reach the final destination with conventional means, but without his superpowers and experience, I'm forced to use sneaky tactics. Because these were the solutions that got me out of trouble all my life and were at my service. Obviously, my current idea wasn't very smooth, but it was the only logical step that my brain could create. If I stopped the attack she would have run away, if I continued to fight her she would definitely do more damage to me. Getting stabbed was the smallest collateral damage I could suffer as the result of the situation. "There will come a time when you won't be able to heal yourself." He informs me, and as I see his flaming eyes narrow, I sense the irritation in them, and I just tilt my head to the side in interest, because I'm seriously starting to lose track. He is undoubtedly right about this detail, which Price has already pointed out to me a couple of times as well. There will indeed be times when my sly strategies won't work, but so far they've served me well. All my life I had to take care of such unpleasant problems by myself, and every single time I solved the complications that life threw me into. And since I could never count on the help of others, I quickly learned that there are situations where you have to take realistic risks in order to succeed. Like, for example, in order to prevent the shitstorm threatening the whole world, I'm unfortunately forced to allow someone to stab me. And luckily for me, the blessed ability of my kind always supported my cunning tricks.

"Are you worried about me, perhaps?" I raise one of my arched eyebrows, twisting a lazy, cheeky smile on my mouth as I slowly immerse myself in the smoldering gaze intertwined with mine. And when he settles, just a few narrow steps from me, I feel the pulsation of heat emanating from his body, which makes the warm tingling under my skin come alive with reflexive speed, further encouraging my brave little teasing. Despite the fact that we buried our differences, and even though during our outing at the research institute, he showed me how beneficial it is for me if he turns to me with goodwill, I'm unable to resist the temptation to poke a little at his feelings swirling under the surface. Because every time I see another emotion flash in those eyes, and his undivided attention is directed at me, I'm filled with satisfaction. And maybe sometimes I don't even want to fight the feeling.

"I prefer to see you alive." He states simply, but my heart skips a beat excitedly from the breath of tenderness in his tone, and I try to guide my pulse back to its normal rhythm with a small swallow, before the stupid thoughts that start in my head divert me into questionable side streets. Even though he has already stated covertly that he cares about the fate of my survival, but now that he is finally voicing this openly, I'm unable to banish the evil little joy that flares up inside me, which settles in my chest contently. Because this terrifying man is genuinely concerned about my pretty little body, and this is a development in our relationship that I would never have been able to predict.

"If I evoke such deep emotions in you, then maybe I should get injured more." I take another reckless step towards him, almost masochistically enjoying the tiny glint of danger in his eyes. Slowly, perhaps, I could start to get over the fact that something is not right in my head, because it's more than worrying, as the burning tremble wakes up in my stomach, when he leans down and gets temptingly close to me. And I have to force my hands to stay still, so they don't reach for him, because my fingertips start to tingle almost desperately to touch him.

"You've been a good girl so far, Woods. Don't make me change my mind." He warns, and I can almost feel his voice resonating along his chest, as it suddenly deepens in a delicious way, as if a big cat were just starting to purr. But I'm much more surprised by what he wants to convey to me with his words, because I doubt that I only imagine the praise disguised as scolding, which he gifts me for the first time since our complicated acquaintance. To others, his little statement might not mean anything, but I'm getting more and more accustomed to seeing behind his dubious comments. It's almost ridiculous how my mouth dries up from these two sentences, and it's downright desperate how quickly the excitement rushes through me, as I replay in my head how guilty it was to hear "good girl" from his mouth. And I don't think he used this wording by accident. Because every little move of this man is intentional.

And this quite simply encourages me to let my guard down for a fleeting moment and give in to the damned little voice lurking in my head, which wakes up again and encourages me to play with fire just a little, just this once. And as my fingers slowly crawl up between the many holsters and pockets of his vest, and settle at the edge to look for a grip there, I only reach up on my toes and pull myself closer to him, tracing the parting line of his lips through the dark material of the mask with my hot breath.

"I'll be a good girl for you, Riley." I tease and let the intensity of the flames dancing under my skin make my voice even more lustful. And I know it's not just a hallucination when I see his pupils slowly absorb the scarlet glow shining in his eyes. "Pinky swear."

When I see one of his gloved hands move in my periphery, I just back away from him with a wicked little grin, enjoying the way a very interesting hoarse growl emerges from his throat. And as I walk past him and head towards our small group, I can almost feel his gaze burning the back of my neck. It may not be time to entertain myself in the shadow of this new threat, but sometimes I can afford to have a little fun. Especially when it's the easiest way to silence the tangled thoughts swirling in my head. Because this is really not the best time to figure out what to do with my attraction for the man, which I can no longer deny. This is the problem for future Leona.

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