#konig codmw2

[vilsoo]

𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑮𝑨𝑺𝑴.𝑪𝑶𝑴 ⌇GHOST, KÖNIG

ghost x fem!reader x könig || WC: 3,852

𖤐 SYNOPSIS. the dark web was a place every sane person stayed away from. too many horror stories and dark content that barely a few dared to venture in. but you’d rather not be anywhere else than in the hands of two masked strangers…

𖤐 WARNINGS. dubcon, kidnapping, drugging, sadism, voyeurism, bondage (blindfolding, ropes, torture), sex toys, livestream sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, forced creampie, mind break, double penetration, mask kink, impact play.

HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

[HAUNTED HOUSE ANNOUNCER] You are now entering the Deathgasm live venue. This haunted house attraction depicts scenes of violence, intense loud audio, special effects, and content warnings posted. For a fun and safe experience, please follow our code of conduct: no touching live performers and decorations, no flash photography, and no eating. Do not block passageways, or this will result in expulsion. Smoking and drinking are permitted for our haunted houses only. We hope you enjoy.

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The last time you ever saw broad daylight was ripped apart before your eyes.

It was just a relaxing morning stroll. You were always, always aware of your surroundings, especially during the night. But you shouldn’t have underestimated what happens in the day. Things became unsettling when you noticed a white van lurking in your peripheral vision, feeling your skin crawl and your body tense up with paranoia when the doors opened.

At first, you thought you were overthinking about it. Stop being so fucking paranoid, you scolded to yourself. Maybe they’re just contractors or something. Nothing sketchy at all.

You just kept walking that day continuing to embrace the warmth of the sun, sometimes looking over your shoulders just to be sure. But that unsettling, turmoil gut-feeling just couldn’t go away. As if you really were being followed. As if that van parked all the way out here for you.

“Quickly.”

It wasn’t until in just half a heartbeat, a brawny, masked man clung his arm around you, rendering you motionless as he presses a cloth over your nose and your mouth. With all your strength you tried to fight back and escape his grasp but your struggle was to no avail. Your screams were muffled and your vision grew hazy, causing your eyes to flutter as your numb body was pulled backwards, backwards, and backwards... And that was when your world was swallowed away by darkness.

“Shh, shh… We got you now. We’ll be taking care of you now...”

“…Told you she’d be easy, Ghost. We’ll have her all to ourselves…”

On that sinister day, you were the one with the shiny price tag. A beautiful woman walking all alone near a remote area, suddenly kidnapped by two masked men in a white van who had special, ominous plans for you. You could hear their conversations reverberating in your head, trying to register what the hell even happened. With your body temporarily limp and weakened, you could still feel the sensation of their caresses all over you.

Usually kidnappers would be so aggressive handling their female victims. At least, in the movies you’ve seen. The men would rush and scamper out of impatience and impulse as they tie their victims up, desperate to get down to business like it was their last meal on Earth. And even though your brain was foggy, you could register that you were being downed by a drug and abducted. Yet, it all felt… oddly tantalizing.

There was no rush. No sign of impulse nor rough treatment from these mysterious masked men. Instead of this predator-prey dynamic, instead of fear and terror seizing every fiber of your being, the men handled your motionless body like having a cupped hand of water, that not a drop would enter gravity's pull. In the back of a van, you laid on a blanket as gloved hands roamed about your skin, your waist, your face, your thighs… The men cut off your clothes with scissors, ever so gently trying not to hurt you. With your hazy eyes drifting side to side, you caught glimpse of one of them holding rope and the other holding your arms above your head.

“Look at her. So fucking cute when she’s all spaced out like that…”

“She’s so obedient for us already. You’re gonna be a perfect little pornstar for us, aren’t ya’?”

…Pornstar?

Before you knew it, your heavy eyes started to sulk. You were slowing down while the world around blurred, completely losing your coherence as the masked men moved you around like a lifeless doll. You couldn’t stop sighing, babbling nonsense, and whimpering when their large hands just couldn’t keep off of you, hanging your wrists on some metal hook attached to the van’s ceiling so they could caress your body. Your numb legs were then spread open, revealing the soaked fabric of your panties that you heard one of them coo in your ears. You whined when one of them slid their hand down to toy with your slit, aching and so swollen, out of your own fear and arousal. It was futile to even try and close your legs from this violation, yet the heat pooling in between was saying otherwise…

“Fuck, she’s already so wet just by being tied up. Makes me wanna take her here right now.”

“…We have to go now, König. Just keep playing with her clit until she falls asleep…”

The anticipation from such a forbidden desire worsened the ache in your cunt. At this fleeting moment you didn’t know what exactly you wanted anymore; how to choose what was good or what was bad for you. Your foggy brain couldn’t even articulate anything except this writhing sensation, this urge to submit yourself and melt onto the man’s chest just to let him use you. Encircling his fingers on your throbbing clit that you were bashfully moaning and whining, knowing that they were getting off to a pathetic, brainless, helpless woman who’s good for nothing but a fuck…

It was too bad that before you could even build up your orgasm, you were already passed out…

“… And we’re live. Wake her up.”

You had no idea how long you’ve been out. At least your coherence was starting to gauge, but your body was still weakened and frail from the drug. You struggled to open your debilitated eyes, vision hazy and blurry as if you hit your head. And when you tried to move, your wrists were still bound above your head.

Your breathing grew rapid, eyes darting every corner as you were scanning the new environment. Tied in a darkened room with red lighting, followed by a camera on a tripod right in front of you. Your mind immediately thought of this setup as a sex dungeon, hence the chains on the walls and a bed neatly made behind you. Recalling what had happened earlier, you tried to look for the men in masks, creating noises by dangling the metal hook above you and whimpering to let them know you’re awake. But as far as you could tell, you couldn’t make out any other presence lingering in the room…

Your heart was a pounding loud drum in your chest. Panic scorches in your brain, but your touch-starved body betrays your inhibitions… You were completely naked, exposing yourself in front of the camera. In your mouth, a red ball gag pooling with drool that dripped down to your stomach and on the floor. Your legs were free from the rope, however, you were on your tippie toes— the rope holding your wrists were too high that it was a struggle to relax them or you’d injure yourself. Dangling on rope, gagging and drooling on a ball, naked in front of a camera that you assumed to be recording already… how much more lewd could this be?

A gloved hand emerging from the shadows makes you flinch as it caresses you from behind. Your skin tingled when you felt the man’s body heat transmit onto your back, hearing him breathe deeply. You were able to study him up close— an alluring, mysterious man wearing a balaclava with a skull design, recalling him being called “Ghost.” Another pair of gloved hands greet you by massaging your breasts, your body immediately succumbing to this white-hot wave of sensation, desperate to be handled like this that more heat pooled between your legs. You turn your head and meet his gaze; piercing, forest green eyes and a draped mask, the other man with the German accent known as “König.”

“You’re not gonna struggle and try to resist us, are you?” Ghost teased, his voice so intoxicating than any alcohol you’ve ever consumed. He had this husky, sultry British accent; something you’ve never expected coming from a stranger like him. It only turned you on more.

You shake your head at him meekly, replying with a faint moan when he suddenly grips your ass. Ghost immediately catches the doe-eyes you gave him, the right kind of heat and lust pooling in your eyes. This was all so, so wrong… to be abducted and chained in the dark, to be turned on by strangers in tactical gear who drugged you and had sinister plans for you… But yet, you couldn’t fight this brain-fazing sensation from the anticipation quivering inside, wondering what was going to happen to you as you were in the hands of these men. And your aching cunt couldn’t stop furtively pounding and throbbing, having to hold back a whimper from how needy and slutty you really were...

“Good girl,” Ghost praised as he held your face with one hand. “Tonight, everything we do to you is gonna be livestreamed. You’re not here just to please us— you’ll have to please our audience, too. You like being shown off, pretty girl?”

“Mhm.” You nodded like you were already made for this, allowing what your body was secretly ravenous for. A little enthusiasm, but also bashfulness— the epitome of submission. Perhaps deep down, you adored being showed off; basking in the limelight of being a free use in front of thousands of strangers…

König’s hand slithers down your back and onto your ass, yelping when he spanked it so abruptly that it left a throbbing sting. Your back involuntarily arched and when his fingers just fit right in between your thighs, chafing your swollen, wet cunt that it was hard holding back your pathetic whines and moans.

“Getting off to this already?” he coaxed, now increasing the speed of his fingers teasing your folds that you threw your head back on his shoulder. Immediately writhing on his fingers playing with your swollen clit, unable to respond properly when Ghost wrapped his hand around your throat.

“They wanna hear you scream,” Ghost muttered into your ears, slightly smirking under his mask. “You can’t be enjoying all this without a little bit of pain.”

As much as you wanted to resist, you couldn’t. The panic and anticipation spiraled into shameless arousal. Without warning, König eased two of his fingers knuckles deep inside your wet cunt so easily, thrusting insanely fast that your eyes fell half-lidded, convulsing around his fingers hitting that spot that made you squirm. Shamelessly spreading your legs as Ghost kept playing with your tits, squeezing both of your nipples so tight that your loud squeal reverberated off the walls of the room.

That mix of pleasure and pain; you’d be lying to yourself if you truly enjoyed it… It was torturous, it was too brutal to endure, but your skin was flashing hotter than ever, your clit throbbing erratically with a heartbeat of its own. König felt his cock stirring in his suit, getting off to your helpless state that he thrusted his fingers so hard, curling them to abuse your g-spot. Denying your own orgasm was painfully inevitable. The two men could see it pooling in your eyes like it was unobtainable, watching your body constantly squirming under their touches.

“You think she deserves to come?” taunted Ghost.

“We’ll make her come as many times as she can. Even if she can’t handle it.” You could feel König’s other hand slithering down to your inner thigh as if he was about to grab it, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “And we’re not gonna fucking stop no matter how many times you beg. You’re our little fucktoy now and you’re gonna be treated just like one.”

Lust speared through you from their words. The men were unpredictable in their own sinister ways; it caught you off guard from the way König abruptly lifted your left leg and held it in the air as Ghost takes a vibrator onto your clit. Fingers still fucking into your cunt and your sensitive clit getting overstimulated had you yanking the rope, your body writhing and squirming that they tell you to “shut the fuck up and take it,” and forced you in place. Electric sensations skyrocket through you before you could even register it all, your glossy eyes welling with tears and your face all ravished and wanton beyond comprehension.

Never have you been so turned on you couldn’t see straight. It was a fleeting second after you realize your orgasm had already washed over you, your hips stuttering like a riptide from this delirious torment. Knowing that there were thousands of strangers getting off to this, getting off to a helpless slut tied up and tortured by masked men that can’t do anything except enjoy it, you basked in it. Forced multiple orgasms, stinging pain, lewd noises, and loud screams… this was all related to the dark web you’ve been hearing recently.

After collecting yourself, a wave of clarity hit you so suddenly that things were starting to make sense. There were recent kidnappings of women who were found later on a livestream website called Deathgasm.com, where numerous videos of gangbangs with these women and masked men in tactical gear are recorded live. They take place in either the back of a van or in a dark room, which viewers assume as a sex dungeon.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. As sick and twisted this was, your body couldn’t help but succumb to this indescribable feeling of pleasure and torture. There were even times out of curiosity you’d search the site and realize how attractive the men in masks and tactical gear are. Toying and playing with a tied up woman who also secretly succumb to this, their quivering fear and terror surrendering into arousal and tantalization. Having no choice but to orgasm over and over even though it’s too much, looking into the men’s faces with lingering dark anonymity and their brawny, large bodies looming over them just to fulfil their filthy, dark plans. And you would not trade this for anything in the world.

Perhaps you adored being showed off. Basking in the limelight of being used like a fucktoy and watched by strangers online that are fucked up in the head, like an exhibitionist. Or maybe you’ve been brainwashed to even think this way— maybe you just have little, fucked up fantasies of your own... It didn’t even matter anymore; your thoughts became mush when Ghost and König suspended you up in the air this time, your wrists and ankles bound behind you with your legs also tied apart. The gag was finally off but a blindfold had covered your eyes, not being able to tell who’s who and what the men plan to do to you now.

You were already a mess; strings of saliva and drool hanging off your chin that dripped onto König’s cock, slowly easing it in your widened mouth. It was Ghost’s turn to play with your pussy and ass, moaning and yelping when he spanked your cheeks so harshly. Nothing could compare to this amount of excitement pounding in your pussy, practically whining on Konig’s fat cock in your mouth as Ghost kept teasing you.

To describe the comments in the live chat as obscene is an understatement— the men were greedy, ravenous, filthy. Shamelessly admitting their own raunchy, fucked up scenarios with you tied up like that. Degrading you like a worthless whore, admiring your body and pussy that’s good for fucking, or sending money to get Ghost and König to fulfill their requests:

[ $20 ] both of you fuck her pussy and ass at the same time. stretch out that tight asshole

[ $25 ] carve the word “slut” on her thigh i want that bitch bloody and screaming in pain

[ $22 ] make her squirt i wanna see that pussy juice all over the camera lens

And though you couldn’t read the comments or see the camera, you just indulged into this and presented yourself as a horny, free-use slut that’s made for fucking. You can feel Ghost’s cockhead brushing the folds of your cunt, coating it with your juices. König thrusted his cock straight inside your throat that it was too much for you to handle, gagging and moaning pathetically as Ghost kept teasing you it felt like utter torture. But that blissful feeling blossoming in your stomach was saying otherwise…

You were so desperate for more friction; Ghost took sick pleasure in seeing you like this, writhing and bucking your hips for him to slide inside your cunt already. When he finally eased his cock so deep, you were given no warning as he pounded so hard and rough into you. The sensation of your cunt getting stretched out from his size, grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth on his cock... You were a wrecked mess already; your face streaked with tears, your chin dripping with drool, and your skin all slick and sweaty. The thought of being reduced to a free use fuck-slut that thrives off from only cock and orgasms as you were suspended mid-air… you could no longer think for yourself anymore.

“Look at you. Getting all dumb and brainless over our cocks,” Ghost cooed, harshly spanking your ass. “You like being our little pornstar? Knowing that a bunch of strangers online jerk off to you being used like this?”

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as the men kept pounding and thrusting, hearing König pant heavily and Ghost grunt when you kept squeezing ever so tightly around him. In just a minute, another orgasm. But that didn’t stop Ghost mercilessly pounding into you like an animal gone wild and König fucking your throat so relentlessly. Your screams and moans form into gags urging out, drips of precum and drool seeping on your chin that König smeared all over your glossy face. The more they sensed that you were taking pleasure from all this, the more brutal they were with you.

It felt like you were in the air for hours as the men switched around and took turns. Your cunt was becoming overly slick with the copious amounts of cum that was being pumped into it, some left on your ass and some dripping onto the floor. Even when they weren’t inside you, the continual pounding and the oozing cum throbbed in your walls. You still couldn’t see anything and you were still bound. It wasn’t until your eyes started feeling heavy again and your body fell numb; the men didn’t like that.

“We didn’t say you could fucking sleep,” König chided as he harshly grabbed your face and slipped off the blindfold.

“That drug is still hitting you, huh?” teased Ghost as he messing around with the ropes that held you in the air. “For that, we’ll make her do the work this time. Untie her and get her on top of me on the bed so she’ll ride me. Leave her arms tied only.”

You couldn’t protest, for your words started to slur and your mouth was only used for moaning pathetically. Once König brought you down from the air, he shoved you onto the bed, holding your legs in the air as Ghost laid underneath you. There was another camera facing the bed that you noticed, the light burning into your retinas as you stare into it. Although you were half awake, a weak smile stretches on your lips, wanting to the viewers know how prideful you were of this and how good Ghost and König make you feel.

When Ghost slowly settled inside your ass, you’ve felt a stirring sensation in your stomach. Never have you thought about losing your anal virginity so soon, but it had you throwing your head back and whining. He had the ball gag from before in his hands and wrapped it back around your opened mouth, telling you to keep staring into the camera and ride him like the dirty, messy slut that you are. With your feet on the bed and your legs spread, you slowly settle down on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and your body contorting from how intense it all felt.

You knew that you didn’t wanna go painfully slow; you wanted Ghost to feel good as well. To the point where he’d finally hold your hips in the air and fuck his cock into your ass and König can finally slide himself in your pussy, overstimulating you so greatly. It was hard to keep balance with your hands bound behind your back and your staggering strength. But you kept telling yourself that this was all that you wanted, grinding your hips and bouncing your ass up and down, emitting juddering grunts from Ghost.

“Keep your legs spread open for me,” König ordered. “Show to the camera how good you take two cocks inside of you.”

Before you knew it, you were sandwiched between the two masked men, filling your holes and stuffing you harshly. Sitting on Ghost’s cock as your legs were wide open, letting them both pound into you… You lost the feeling of stability in your entire body, your inhibition being taken over by the desperate sensation of cock. It broke your mind, but that was what you craved for. It was pure euphoria, rapturing you in a burning enticement that you were bound in. Nearly knocked out of air, your vision becomes hazy as Ghost and König fucks you through your third orgasm, past the point where you're crying two octaves higher than you're used to.

such a hot fucking slut taking both dicks

i wish i could fuck her cunt and put that dumb bitch in her place

how many times did she come already 😂

You enjoyed it. You enjoyed it all. The mind-wrecking, the overstimulation, the humiliation, the pain, the thought of being watched and masturbated to by perverts… It felt as if your life had been reformed. You were now a slutty whore that was good for nothing but a fuck. A depository for cum, just holes for fucking and a toy to torture. Your cunt was now battered and bruised, ass stinging and throbbing from being slapped multiple times, and both of your holes stretched and aching from how deep and rough they fucked you out. All those sensitive, velvet tissues that should never see the light of day, for they were property of Ghost and König only. Your poor cunt couldn’t stop flexing over nothing, yearning for that feeling of fullness again.

The next few hours after you were done being used, you were tied up in a strappado position with a vibrating dildo tied to your cunt. Left alone in the dark with the camera still on and recording, still blindfolded and gagged. Forced orgasms over and over, stranded like this throughout the rest of your days and nights until they felt like using you again. From what Ghost told you, the viewers seemed to favor you. They wanted to see more of you on Deathgasm, never to return to your old life and remain a free-use.

“Next time, I’ll make it hurt real good for you,” he forewarned before. “They can watch and cum as many times as they please, but you… You only cum for me now.”

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. art by duskidraws ♥︎

𖤐 TAGS. @kyumimii @aft0nsimp @crysugu @atinystaypixie @rinshoe @cran-berry-vodka @apwing @daddyzzlittlewhore @kimekioo @mqfuyuu @strawberrymilk4k @strvwberrymilk @maidenssymphony @shycoffeetaco @zippertwat @killzenin @titantears @migueloharacumslut @hayati17 @palefuckinghost @maddietries @nanananamiiii @bookmark-anon @blackhoodlea @bru1sedclavicle @dollicries @hehehehesthings @oneofthesevensins

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

whiskey and wanting

john 'soap' mactavish x fem reader smut

tags/warnings- the scottish, Public Teasing / Exhibitionism, power play, praise kink (good girl), dirty talk, light degradation, clothed sex, public sex, gentle dom, sub reader, inspired by art i saw on twitter

Johnny teases you all night at the pub by wearing a kilt with nothing underneath

word count- 2273 words

The pub was warm in the way only old wood and whisky could make a place feel. It buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of an off-key cover band attempting in the corner. You sat in a cozy booth near the back, sipping from a glass of cider, the amber drink kissed with cinnamon.

And Johnny MacTavish was up to no good.

You knew it the second he walked in.

The door swung open and a rush of autumn air blew in with him—along with the unmistakable cocky strut of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

He was wearing a damn kilt.

A proper one. Dark tartan, pleated, crisp. His broad chest filled out a tight charcoal sweater, sleeves pushed up to show the veins in his forearms. His undercut was styled just messy enough to look casual, but you knew the effort he put into it. The cheeky glint in his blue eyes was aimed straight at you.

And you? You already felt warm before your second sip.

When he reached your booth, he didn’t sit down right away. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he leaned forward, resting one thick forearm on the table while the other casually adjusted the fall of the kilt at his thigh. The movement was subtle… calculated.

Your eyes flicked downward—just for a second. Just a second too long.

No boxers. No briefs. Just thigh and shadow.

Your breath caught, and Johnny’s lips curved into a smug, knowing grin. He leaned in closer, voice low and warm against your ear.

“Catch a peek, lass?”

You sipped your drink to hide the way your thighs pressed together beneath the table. “Didn’t realize it was that kind of party.”

“Oh aye,” he said with a wink, finally sliding into the booth across from you. “Told Gaz I was goin’ regimental. He nearly choked on his pint.”

You shook your head, cheeks warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Especially not with the way his hand found your knee under the table a moment later, fingers trailing just a little higher than polite.

For the next hour, Johnny was relentless.

He played the part of the doting boyfriend to a T—getting your drinks, pulling your chair closer, wrapping his arm around you possessively. But beneath the charm and the light flirting was something more wicked. A smirk just a bit too sharp. A hand that lingered on your lower back, fingertips dipping just beneath the waistband of your jeans. Whispered words in your ear like, “You keep starin’ at my legs like that and I’ll bend you over this booth, love.”

He was playing with fire. And you were happy to burn.

At one point, he stood to grab another round, and purposefully dropped his napkin. He bent to retrieve it, turning ever-so-slightly in your direction.

Your jaw nearly hit the goddamn table.

Firm. Bare. Glimpses of toned skin between pleats. You saw just enough to know he was being very bold tonight.

When he returned, he slid your drink toward you and gave you a smug look. “Enjoy the view, sweetheart?”

“I’m going to kill you,” you muttered through clenched teeth, though the heat blooming between your thighs told a different story.

“You’d miss me too much.”

He wasn’t wrong. The man was a menace—but he was your menace.

The band switched to something slow and sultry. Johnny took a sip of his whisky, then leaned over with a wicked smile. “Come dance with me.”

You gave him a look. “You hate slow dancing.”

“I hate bad slow dancing,” he corrected, tugging you gently to your feet. “But I like holdin’ you.”

That line might’ve melted your panties if they weren’t already halfway there from the visual buffet he’d been serving all night.

He pulled you to the open floor near the band, one hand warm and wide on your lower back, the other twined through your fingers. The smell of smoke and wood and whisky clung to him like a second skin. You let him sway you gently to the rhythm, leaning into his chest as he pressed closer, hips flush.

The kilt brushed your bare legs.

You felt everything underneath.

“Johnny…” you hissed quietly, glancing around the bar.

“What?” he whispered back, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “No one else knows but you. S’naughty, isn’t it? Bein’ the only one who knows I’m bare beneath.”

Your thighs clenched involuntarily. He felt it. Smirked.

“I could lift it right now. Show you again. Just a peek.”

You gritted your teeth. “I swear—”

“Say the word,” he murmured, guiding your hand just a little lower. “I’ll take you into that storeroom in the back. Bet I could have you whimperin’ on a stack of crates in five minutes.”

Your knees almost gave out.

He knew it, too.

You were this close to dragging Johnny into that storeroom yourself.

Every brush of his kilt sent your thoughts spiraling. The smug bastard didn’t just know what he was doing—he was thriving on the control he had over you. He spun you slow on the dancefloor, holding you close like you were just another couple lost in the music.

But there was nothing innocent about the way he pressed against your hip. Nothing casual about the growl in his voice when he leaned in and whispered:

“Tell me, bonnie—are you wet for me already?”

Your nails dug into his shoulder through the fabric of his sweater. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet here you are, dancin’ with a man in a kilt with nothin’ underneath.” His hand slipped down to the small of your back. “Risky, love. Tempting. I could bend you over that bar and everyone would hear how sweet you sound for me.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how much his words got to you—and you loved it even more.

He let his hand trail lower, fingers dragging just along the top curve of your ass, the hem of your jeans like a dare. You had to force yourself not to moan when he dipped his mouth to your ear again.

“I want you squirming in that booth, sweetheart. I want you beggin’ under the table. You like watchin’ me flash you? How about this—”

He took your hand and placed it against his hip beneath the kilt, dragging it slowly inward.

No barrier. No fabric.

Just skin. Heat. Him.

Your palm brushed the thick length of him, already half-hard and twitching under your fingers.

Your eyes flew wide.

“Johnny—!”

But he caught your gasp with his mouth, kissing you deep and slow, right there on the dancefloor. His tongue slid past your lips with a practiced ease, tasting like whisky and sin. His other hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he kissed you like he wanted the whole bar to know you were his.

When he pulled back, your heart was racing. He smirked.

“I’m gonna break you tonight, lass.”

Back at the booth, you could barely sit still.

Every time Johnny adjusted himself or spread his legs, you knew what was underneath. And worse, he made sure you saw it—lifting the hem of his kilt just enough when the waitress walked by, shooting you that wicked grin like, “Oops, did you catch a peek again?”

He nursed his drink while you squirmed in your seat.

At one point, he reached under the table and slipped his hand between your thighs.

No warning. No pretense.

Just firm, warm fingers against the seam of your jeans.

Your gasp caught in your throat as you clenched your legs around his hand. You looked around—no one was paying attention. Everyone too drunk or distracted.

“Already soaked, aren’t you?” he murmured, stroking you slow through the denim. “Jesus, love. You get off on this, huh? Knowin’ I’ve been free all night. Just waitin’ for you.”

You nodded before your brain could stop you.

His smirk darkened. “Good girl.”

Your pulse throbbed in your ears. You were dangerously close to losing your composure in the middle of a crowded pub. But Johnny didn’t care.

“You want more?” he asked, voice gravel-low. “Say it.”

“Y-Yes,” you whispered.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want you.”

“That all?” His hand slid higher, fingers teasing the button of your jeans. “Want me to take you right here? On this table? Let everyone hear the noises you make when I slide inside you?”

You bit your lip, hard. “You’re evil.”

“I’m devoted,” he said, dipping a finger just behind the waistband. “To making you lose it.”

You stared at him, breath heavy, eyes pleading.

He leaned closer and nipped your lip with his teeth. “Get your arse in that storeroom. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

The back hallway was quiet—dimly lit, tucked behind the kitchen and lined with crates of supplies. You barely had time to step inside the storeroom before Johnny closed the door behind you and pinned you against it.

His mouth was on you instantly—hot, claiming, teeth scraping your neck as his hands yanked at your jeans. The sound of your zipper filled the room, followed by the brush of cool air against your thighs.

“Been teasing you all bloody night,” he muttered, lips dragging along your throat. “Want to feel what I’ve done to you.”

You whimpered as his hand found your soaked panties, pushing them aside.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” His fingers slid between your folds, slow and savoring. “This all for me?”

“Y-Yes—shit, Johnny—”

He pressed two fingers into you and you arched, head hitting the door with a dull thud. He moved slow at first, curling them with precision, his palm grinding against your clit just right.

“You wearin’ those tight jeans just for me, huh?” he asked, curling his fingers again. “Knew I’d tease you into a mess.”

You tried to answer but your voice caught in your throat.

His free hand slid up under your shirt, palming your breast through your bra. “Gonna make you come just like this,” he growled. “Back pressed to the door, dripping all over my fuckin’ hand.”

The pace of his fingers quickened, scissoring inside you, and your knees buckled. He held you firm, mouth finding yours again. The kiss was filthy, tongue deep and possessive, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You were so close. The tension curled tight in your belly, your hips grinding into his palm.

“Come for me,” he said, voice rough and low. “Be a good girl and come.”

Your climax hit hard.

Your back arched off the door, a cry ripped from your throat as your body shook around his fingers. He caught you, braced you, held you through it—his name a prayer on your lips.

When your vision cleared, he was licking his fingers clean.

“Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours.

You stared at him, chest heaving, legs barely holding.

“You’re insane,” you said breathlessly.

“You love it.”

You did.

You really, really did.

He didn’t stop there.

He pushed you further into the storeroom, toward a stack of crates covered with an old linen cloth. He turned you around, bent you forward over them.

“Still need more,” he said, lifting his kilt.

You heard the rustle of fabric, the clink of his belt.

Felt the blunt heat of him against your entrance.

“Say it,” he growled, hand gripping your hip. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it, Johnny. Please.”

He didn’t wait.

He pushed in with one long, steady thrust, filling you to the hilt. You moaned—loud, unfiltered—as the stretch stole the air from your lungs. He groaned behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other braced on the crate beside you.

“Fucking hell, love,” he hissed, hips rolling slow. “Tight little cunt wrapped around me like this—been dreamin’ about it all fuckin’ night.”

He set a brutal rhythm, hips snapping against you as the crates creaked beneath your weight. His kilt brushed your thighs with every thrust, the soft fabric a filthy reminder of how this all started.

“Wanted to fuck you senseless the second I saw you sittin’ pretty in that booth,” he growled. “You look so sweet when you’re flustered. So fuckin’ wreckable.”

You were already halfway there.

Every thrust knocked the breath from your lungs. Your hands scrabbled for purchase on the crates, legs trembling, core clenching hard around him.

His hand reached around, fingers finding your clit again, stroking you in time with his thrusts. “Come again for me, baby. Want to feel you squeeze me. Wanna fuck you through it.”

You didn’t stand a chance.

Your second orgasm hit harder than the first. Your vision blurred, pulse pounding in your ears, body shaking under his relentless rhythm. You cried out his name, voice cracked and desperate.

“That’s it,” Johnny groaned. “Fuck, that’s my girl.”

A few more thrusts and he was right behind you—grunting, cursing, spilling deep inside with a low, guttural moan. He didn’t pull out right away—just stayed there, pressed against your back, breath heavy and warm on your neck.

“Jesus,” he muttered, finally pulling out, careful as he did.

You both stood there a moment—sweaty, wrecked, panting.

And then you both started laughing.

The kind of breathless, post-orgasm giggle that made your knees shake all over again.

He kissed the back of your neck, arms wrapping around you from behind.

“Best bar night I’ve ever had,” he mumbled.

You turned in his arms and kissed him—slow, lazy, completely content. “You’re still insane.”

“Aye,” he grinned, kissing your nose. “But I’m yours.”

[soullessdianthus]

Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

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

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

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

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

━ What were you thinking?

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

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

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

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

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

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts! 

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

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

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

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

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

[dreamness-vp]

A bit shy Colonel 👉👈

[yawnderu]

MW2 KorTac and 141 Twitter | Part IX

giggling

ATSV/COD MWII Twitter AU Masterlist

[wetsocksinbed]

shit people need to hear about COD:

Ghost isn’t some broken uwu boy. Infantilising assault victims is demeaning and disrespectful

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, König is extremely overrated for a character that only appears as a playable operator and not as anything in the campaign

You’re allowed to ship whoever you want, it’s a free world, but throwing a tantrum when people say they don’t ship GhostSoap or Korangi, and calling them homophobic (I’ve seen this too many times at this point) is disgusting and you’re essentially stereotyping us LGBTQ individuals as aggressive and pushy when it comes to queer ships. The characters of Ghost and Soap are canonically coded to be like brothers, and you need to stop thinking that a headcannon is the same as real cannon

Stop replacing Gaz with König, it’s giving ✨racism✨

Alex, König, Farah, Alejandro, Rudy and Horangi are not part of TF141, stop including them in it?????

König and Ghost are canonically enemies and wouldn’t have each other on speed dial just tag your fics as OOC at this point

the entirety of the Call of Duty franchise was coded for straight white “alpha male” boys who live in their mothers basements, stop acting like it’s anything more than that. You won’t find the representation you’re looking for in it and honestly with the way it’s headed at the moment, I don’t think you ever will

we can tell if you’ve never played the games based on how you write the fics. You don’t have to be a game fan or player, but at least do your research on the characters you’re writing about before you hit “post”

Makarov and Graves are terrible people and shouldn’t be idolised. Before you tag me with your “let people do what they want” let me remind you that Graves is canonically racist. @mockerycrow made a good post about why Makarov is a shit person and I recommend you read it

All of the characters have their flaws. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, they all have done bad things. Price is known to commit war crimes if it means getting the mission done

König having social anxiety doesn’t mean he’s a broken husk. You can function completely fine with the disorder if you can find a way to distance yourself from who you are as a person. Say, like, constantly wearing a mask? I promise you that the Austrian soldier wouldn’t be a sobbing mess because he got looked at funny

Also, he is only obsessed over because of his mask and the weird obsession people on this app have with infantilising people with trauma and mental illnesses (see first paragraph regarding Ghost)

The way some of the fans obsess over the actors is uncomfortable and genuinely creepy. It’s like this generation thinks that anything behind a screen isn’t real and can’t feel anything. They’re people who act. They’re not the characters you play.

feel free to add more to this, I’m tired and sick and wanted to rant

notes:

don’t attack me with the “yeah but not me” shit. Obviously I don’t mean everyone.

this doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the games the way you want, it just means don’t fucking police it and gatekeep it and expect everyone to accept your interpretation of it

[marixadxo]

Workout bang

cw: Size mention, pet/nicknames, public sex?, fingering

You and König both worked on base and had a small apartment near. Your shift ended early but he was still training the rookies so he sent you home early, that was about 6:57pm. It was 11:30 pm when you called, but to no answer. You got in the car and drove back to base, checkin in and heading to the gym space, to see what was up with him.

You normally don’t see him workout without his compression shirt, but DAMN did he look good without it. Since he was alone, he figured he was fine to workout without his top. You watched him for a few minutes before knocking on the door. “H…Hey Konig?” you spoke out sheep-ishly. He turned his head and chuckled. “Ah, I assume it's late now isn’t it Meine Liebe?” he asked, setting the weights down and opening his arms for you. He smiled once you walked over and hugged him, as he gave you a kiss on your head. “It's been hours, Konig ... .I even called your phone a few times..” You mumbled into his chest. “My bad love ... .but you're with me now right-?” he asked, forcing your legs to straddle him as he held your hips, looking down at you. You're caught off guard as he did this, but you nodded, glad that he’s alright. “Okay yea ... .but the base is pretty quiet, we should go home don’t you think?” you asked looking up at him, only his dark eyes giving you a certain look. That one look you knew very well, when he had a bad/good idea that involved pounding the shit out of you.

You tried getting off him, but his large frame held charge over you. He grabbed your waist and brought you closer to him, your back on his chest. “Nah ah, you're not going anywhere my dear ... .I think you're gonna like this empty gym space…” he told you, in a low rumble in his tone. Before long, his hand was tugging at your pants, pulling them down while giving you gentle kisses on your cheek, neck and shoulder. Your whimpers and whines energized him more like he was slowly becoming desperate to get to your pleasure. He managed to pull your panties and pants down to your feet. You looked up at him, he looked back down at you and pulled his mask up to his nose, smirking at you. “Such a pretty baby you are ... .my pretty girl…” he whispered, causing you to feel overwhelmed in this position. “K…Konig, we’re still in the gym….a…anyone could walk in on u-”. You were cut off by his roughed fingers rubbing your clit, slightly curling around. He grabbed your face and kissed you, keeping your moans silent. His hands started moving faster, causing you to flinch and arch, breaking the kiss a few times to moan and catch your breath. 

You were on the verge of tears of how quick his fingers were moving, his other hand in your mouth, drool spilling out your mouth along with your cries, begging and pleading  for him to let you cum. “Aw, is my little slut begging for release? Poor girl……I don’t think I should let you…” he taunted, moving faster past his limits and your’s. "I love seeing the sensitive side of my girlfriend, it's so cute... And the fact I'm the only one that can make her feel this way, makes it even better". He chuckled as he slowed down, finally letting you make a mess all over his hand. Your eyes were fuzzy and mind almost fully blank as you lay straddled on his lap, practically breathless.

He smiled at your little body in his arms. He picked up your pants and helped you get them back on and carried you out to the car. “Let’s head home, sure you don’t wanna be caught here love….” He said, settling into the car himself. It was a 30 minute drive since traffic was iffy at night, but you both made it back in one piece. When he opened the door, he was quick to take you to the bedroom, and he seemed like he was in a hurry too. “Hun? What are you doing?” you asked before you felt his bulge fighting his boxers as he pressed into you, breathing heavily. “Liebling, do you trust me…in this present moment?” he asked, leaning down on you. You nodded.

Before long, you were drooling, biting his shoulder, tears rolling down your face and his seed spilling out of you. He had stuffed you full of him from his throbbing large size to his seed filling you to the brim. He stayed on top of you, groaning and huffing as he kissed your head and looked down at you. “Scheiße...so gut für mich, nicht wahr?” He asked, finally getting off and going to the bathroom. He came back with a towel and wrapped you in it. The rest of the night, he cleaned you up, put ice on the areas where you were most sore and cuddled you.

Neither of you had a shift the next day, so you spent it in bed, with each other relaxing and watching movies. You looked up at him and smiled, “I love you Konig…”. He looked down at you, kissing your cheek  “Ich auch, meine Liebe”. 

[vasyandii]

COD PIRATE AU KÖNIG!

He's Krueger's headmaster bc pirates usually have two or more captains, and bc he doesn't trust his cousin with NOT making people walk the Plank.

[lycheedr3ams]

König Character Analysis (Part 1)

*image reposted with permission

Part 1: His Past | Part 2: König's MBTI

the first installment of a multi-part character analysis for our beloved König

to convince you guys i know what I'm talking about, just look through my blog at my könig posts. I am confident that I have grasped most parts of his personality and backstory, but I will acknowledge that some of it may be projecting. obviously we do not know much about him, which is the point of this series. i also relate a lot to him

discussion of my interpretation is welcome in the comments, and if you disagree, there's no need to be hateful. he is, at the end of the day, not real

TW: bullying, social anxiety, other mental health disorders

We have very little information on könig's life before the military. his bio includes one sentence, just one, about his past:

König suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life, often being bullied during his childhood.

while this information alone isn't striking, when put into more context of other parts of his bio, it says:

While he hoped to join as a recon sniper, his physical size and his inability to stay still made him an unsuitable candidate.

focus on those words: his inability to stay still. this crucial bit of information, tied to the fact that he was often bullied, leads me to conclude that könig has ADHD. not being able to sit still is not a stereotype, it is a real fact of life for those with ADHD, me included. people with ADHD are bullied much more than neurotypicals (people without ADHD, autism, etc). while each source is different, it is estimated that children with ADHD are 4-10x more likely to be bullied.

it is no wonder why bullying would cause social anxiety, since most of könig's interactions with his peers were negative. as someone with social anxiety, it is horrible. not knowing what to say or how to act, you end up either completely misreading the social context or not saying anything. either way, you can never win.

additionally, children with ADHD receive up to 20,000 more negative messages from parents and peers in their childhood than neurotypical children. because of this, it is common for people with ADHD to also be extra sensitive to rejection, and it can be so strong in some that a new term has been coined called "rejection sensitive dysphoria." research on this issue has revealed that 99% of people with ADHD also have and experience rejection sensitive dysphoria. therefore, it makes sense to conclude that König also experiences rejection sensitive dysphoria (rsd)

an aside on rsd: this isn't just feeling hurt when you're rejected by a crush or feeling sheepish or embarrassed you're scolded at work or school. rsd episodes make you question your entire life, your personality, your worth, and for many can even lead to suicidal thoughts just from a small incident of rejection. it can also lead to the person having low self-esteem, and they are also more likely to perceive rejection even when it is not there. it is an intense and overwhelming experience that no one should have to go through, yet people with ADHD experience it often

so, we've established, based on the evidence i've provided, that König has ADHD, social anxiety, and experiences rsd. i would say that i can't even imagine what König's childhood was like, but sadly I can since i too have adhd and was bullied. being mean is never okay, and bullying is not cute or quirky or sassy. bullying is when someone kicks your books across the floor, steals and destroys your belongings, when they spread false rumors, make fun of you, laugh at you, when they give you mean faces when you ask questions in class, when your only friend is the other "weird" kid who also has ADHD. it's when your teachers constantly criticize you and you get in trouble for every little thing. it's when you just wanted a friend and everyone else knew how to socialize, but somehow, you didn't. being bullied while also having ADHD is an experience i wish on no one. yet könig went through this. just sit with that for a minute. the big scary military man we love was also a child once, and went through this.

sorry to depress you guys, but this is the reality of his character. i firmly believe that könig has ADHD and experiences rsd despite his untouchable and stoic demeanor, and you're not gonna change my mind.

so, that's the end of the first installment. keep your eyes out for more, cuz trust me, there's gonna be more. (also don't forget to sign up for my taglist if you want! link is on my masterpost)

taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss

[blingblong55]

Pride -141 + König

Based on a request:

BLING!! *runs into the askbox* Blingy, a cuteass adorable reader but then when the guys turn around she just looks this with anyone who wants to fuck around and find out with her man.

F!reader, established!relationship, soldier!reader, fluff?

Dating him is probably the easiest of tasks, he is loyal, attentive, responsible, fun, and always respects your boundaries. If another woman is giving him attention, he is so oblivious to it and thinks it's all friendly but of course, you don't. There have been times when he has had to stop you from fighting a girl because she couldn't get the message that he is clearly taken. You know he is loyal, there is no doubt in that. But what really annoys you is how those women make him uncomfortable, if he is dating someone, then his love and attention go to his someone.

"Hey, handsome, here by yourself?" a woman in her early 20s tried to flirt with him but all he did was shake his head, once more oblivious to the flirtatious look she gave him. "I'm here with my girlfriend actually." She tries to play his comment off and smiles, "But she isn't around now, is she?" He looks at her confused, did this girl not understand you were literally in the establishment? "She is, she's just talking with her boss." He always referred to Laswell as the boss lady, which Laswell hated. "Whilst, she is busy, you and I can do something~" she tries again. "Oh, well, maybe you can call the waiter? I'm sure my lady would like a drink. He isn't paying attention to me but I'm sure if he sees us both call then he'll come over." The woman rolls her eyes and walks away.

You watch the woman leave him and walk up to her. "Hi, is that guy your boyfriend?" you dumbly ask. She sounded annoyed, "No, he is stuck on his bitch girlfriend." You smile, content and once more you are his one. "That's what I thought, well maybe next time you shouldn't fucking talk to my man when he is clearly stuck up on me, you bitch." He grabs you by the waist and carries you out of the establishment. "My love, do you really want to fight that girl?" You sigh and shake your head, "No but I mean, I just think it's stupid. You clearly told her you are taken, why can't she just move on?" He chuckles and cups your face once he puts you down, "It's clear she wants what only my love has, and you my dear have my devotion, now let's go eat elsewhere, yeah?"

----

Gaz:

When you two are in the field and the enemy either hits him or shoots in his direction, you are someone else. R/N is his sweet kind and caring girlfriend. Grim is the soldier who hits back, protects her boyfriend against everyone in that room and is a mean killer. "Don't you fucking dare!" she punches the enemy soldier and then after the poor man is on the floor with a bruised face, he makes him apologise. "You say, 'I'm so sorry, Gaz.' y'hear me?!"

There have been times when he has had to physically stop you from hurting Soap after sparring. Now, you know he can fight, he is after all good at what he does but there are days when you feel extra protective. One scratch and it takes Ghost, Price, some rookie and Gaz to stop you from knocking Soap out. "Fucking let me go! I just wanna talk!" All men hold you down. "Nope, we know what you'll really do"

Soap:

He is a natural flirt, no lie there but all that flirting is to you. So when a recruit is trying to flirt with him, and he seems very uncomfortable, you walk to him, assert that he is taken and then he has to grab you by the hips. "Not, 'ere my lass." He kisses your cheek and you give the girl a clear fake smile. When she walks away, you sit on his lap and caress his face. You aren't the overly jealous type but unfortunately, because he does feel uncomfortable and these girls are desperate to become the barracks bunny, you have to take all these extra measures. He loves that about you, that you make yourself seem like the jealous, obsessive type, even though you aren't just so he can walk comfortably around the base without the women wanting to get touchy with him. "I love you, my R/N, you know that?" He whispers and kisses your neck, and you nod and smile. "I love you too, Johnny."

Price:

The first time he had to physically make it clear to the much younger and desperate women on the base that he is in fact in a happy relationship, he had to kiss you in front of the others. Made it weird for the next meeting but it worked. A time where you were the one protecting him, was during a raid in Latin America. He was bait, he was tied to a tree, and beaten multiple times and unconscious. 30 minutes is the time you all had to take down the enemy base. 5 minutes in you all infiltrated it, Ghost, being your best friend tied all the men up. For 25 minutes, you personally beat and possibly killed the men who hurt your boyfriend. Ghost alone could've found the men who hurt Price but you needed revenge.

Ghost:

It's more than clear that people fear and respect him. However, he in your eyes is the one who at all times must be protected. You would go to hell and back for him and him only. So, when he arrived at the infirmary, all bandaged up, moaning from pain and being treated by the medical staff, you gave them all a speech after he was sleeping. "You all better hear me, this man here will be treated like damn royalty, if he says it still hurts, then you better fucking check the area he is indicating, and no, I will not leave the room. He feels safe with me there and I will stay in that room. And if I find out, one of you bitches is hurting my beloved I will make sure you understand why they call me Grim, got that?" The nurses and two doctors nod in fear.

"Good, now you are excused." You walk back into the room and turn back into his sweet girlfriend. "Hey, love, where were you?" his voice hoarse. "I had to take a wee." you lie and he gives you his usual questioning look. "The loo is over there, my love" he points at the door in the corner. "I just didn't want to wake you up if I flushed it." He nods, "Mmm, yeah, makes sense."

König:

As the tall, feared and at times awkward man König is, you only worried about one thing. That being, you are around him when out with friends in huge social gatherings. Because of the military, he was always looking behind him, checking the room for suspicious people. You always held his hand, massaged it or just had to be next to him. Giving him constant physical touch to remind him you were there. If he was bouncing his leg, you'd place your hand on it, if he became fidgety while out in the pub, you'd hold it and/or kiss it. When he has his mask on, he feels way better, he is less anxious but when without it, he has no other protection from his anxious mind but you. So, instead of verbally threatening people, you stare them down for minutes if needed. This all started when you went out with him to a pub and people kept staring at him, his accent, reddened face and the fact he was maskless all made him more awkward. For his sake, you never picked up fights but you would make a mental note to punch the person if seen again and if they kept doing the same thing. "You know, we can go back home, recharge that social battery of yours and use it next year." You rub his back and look up at him with soft eyes.

"Would that interfere with your plans tonight, Liebling?" He, again, shows respect for your time and plans. "No, not at all, in fact, I kinda need it too, so miene bär, let's go home, yes?" He gives you a small and sincere smile, "Ja, let's go home, Liebe."

Tags: @anonymuslydumb

A/N: No idea what the hell I just wrote, but hope you liked it?

[the-second-sage]

SELF AWARE KONIG x READER

Konig is ever stalking.

That feeling you get when your alone? As if someone is watching your every move?

How easy it is to win games playing him? How characters off Specgru and Kortac seem to just... vanish after you play them?

It's him.

He pulls the strings here. It took time, but the fruit of his effort eventually sprouted- he pulled his strings right and there you were; his, just like he wanted. You were his now- and it would be like that... *forever*. He'd never let you out of his sight- and want or need of your would be met without a second thought. He made sure there was no possibility of you escaping from him.

|CREDITS TO @puff0o0 😈|

[str4ngr]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 [ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 "𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐏" 𝐌𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇 ]

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒 | 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 |

cw: suggestive, teasing, establish relationship, no real dialogue, gn! reader

notes: edging is the act of someone holding their orgasm and then releasing it which leads into a more pleasurable orgasm.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 filled the room around you, even when there was only two of you present. you sat there, almost embarrassed as you stared as the man you called your boyfriends as he chuckled, deep scottish accent making him far more alluring.

his hands graced your body, welcoming you into his arms as his lips grazed across your neck silently. his figure pressed against yours, he touched an teased you like he was going to do more, even though he knew he wasn't going to.

but you didn't know that, and that was his fun.

soap loved the way your body shivered as his fingers broke past the loose shirt you were wear, touching your burning skin, raising goosebumps across your spine. your breaths intermixed, confident and nervous, both sharing an irritable lust as your eyes never pulled away.

until they did.

eyes gleaming, a grin filling his face as he winked, grabbing his buzzing phone to turn of the alarm. he patted your shoulder, sighing as he gave you a playful look. it was obvious he knew this was going to happen, soap wasn't one to just suddenly forget his evening training.

so he left, or so he started to. his hips swaying, cooing a half-hearted apology as his fingers carved your figure. you watched, feeling helpless to his relentless teasing, his ability to rile you up so much that you couldn't get yourself to come back down. god, he made you want to grab him by the shoulders and back him onto that bed, forcing him to let you fall over that bluff.

but he wouldn't, he isn't one to lose at his own game.

but he was one to make you so needy, so desperate for him, that you know just what to do when his training ends.

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

his accent...

༒︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫; 2023 ༒︎

directory

[n1ght0f-nyx]

kyle gaz garrick tries to be gentle, he really does.

but a man cannot help his size, pressing into you so gently, but he still fills you to the brim with every thrust, punching your cervix with each movement, you can feel your cunt stretching to accomodate him, the imprint of his thickness in your womb, he wishes he could stay in there forever. hopefully his cum counts.

[hallo-anon]

Gaz: Hey uh, Ghost?

Ghost: Hmm?

Gaz: I was doing a quick check on everyone's medical records, I noticed yours says "missing spleen due to assassins'"

Gaz: Care to elaborate?

Ghost: No :)

----------

Farah: I want to hear those three little words

Alex: I love you :)

Farah: That's sweet, but try again

Alex: Fine, I will behave...

----------

Soap: What if the g in "gif" is silent

Gaz: Dude, it's 3am, go to sleep

Soap: What gif I don't want to?

Gaz: I hate you

----------

Ghost: English is a hard language

Ghost: But it can be understood through tough thorough thought, though

Alejandro:

Alejandro: You need to stop

----------

Ghost: Sense has chased you your entire life, but you are faster

Soap:

Soap: What did I do to you?

----------

Gaz, after Soap proposed a rather risky plan: Are you crazy?!

Soap, pointing at Ghost: I thought he was the crazy one!

Laswell: I maintain that all of you would be helped a great deal by therapy

----------

Ghost: Ya know seven minutes in heaven, right?

Gaz, hardcore squinting: Go on...

Ghost: I want to propose a new idea

Gaz, suffering instant regret: Oh no

Ghost: Seven minutes in hell

Ghost: You go in a closet and beat the shit out of each other

Ghost: Soap's first

Soap, getting dragged away: WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?!

----------

Horangi: I'm gonna make one of those diagrams with circles

Konig: Venn

Horangi: Probably tomorrow

Konig: *Blank stare*

----------

[hollowbeanz235]

I dont even know lol, but enjoy this ig :')