Welcome, everyone! I’m your local enby. I simp for fictional (but mainly Mandalorian) men and sometimes I write stuff about them.
I try to keep my fics and one-shots gender neutral and the descriptions of certain body parts -as well as skin color- as minimal as possible, because I feel like us nonbinary folk and trans people in general are often forgotten when I comes to fanfiction. Don’t get me wrong, I personally love the whole Sweet Girl thing, but I really want to keep it neutral here. For clarification: I am white, able-bodied, but mentally ill; so of course I can’t write from every single perspective there is. I do try my best to keep things as accessible as I can around here.
Of course there will probably be the occasional gendered fic. Information about that can always be found at the top of the fic in question.
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"I- I am not a torturer. I'm just a soldier," he tried to assure her with that climbing voice. He was shitty at concealing his uneasiness. The man was completely flustered.
"Then why did they assign you with this… task," she demanded to know. It was yet again laughable: as if he was the one being grilled here. He wouldn't answer, and she cocked her head to the side.
"Ever interrogated with your dick before?" She blurted.
His hands were trembling. Slightly, but they were.
"Negative," he said, voice tight.
Was this guy….
Was he a virgin?
Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.
Category: Smut, angst, fluff
Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, mildly dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), angst with a happy ending. The reader is mentioned to be smaller compared to König (serving size difference kink), fair haired and is named in later chapters. Also König will be named in later chapters.
A/N: First of all, König is just a huge puppy with anxiety disorder in this fic. KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi.
Part 1/3 of Valkyrie
Read on Ao3
A Brute, An Angel...
"You're always yappin' about how ya can make prisoners talk. Now here's ya chance."
König tried his best to stand tall while Conor spat at him with a gruff accent he couldn't quite place. He could tell the man got off on this: getting a chance to order him around and making him uncomfortable. He concentrated on looking down at him — knowing perfectly well that it only pissed Conor off when he did that. As if König could will himself to be shorter.
"But she's a… She's a girl. Sir."
"She is an enemy, and we need that intel."
I highly doubt that, sir.
"What do you want me to do with her?"
"Make the captive talk. Ya don't have to do the usual. If y'know what I mean."
"Are you suggesting that I rape her, Conor?"
The fact that he used the Lieutenant's name to appeal to him on a more personal level should've spoken volumes. But it had little effect on the man everybody in the KorTac was more or less scared of.
"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm giving you an order."
If Calisto or Stiletto were here, Conor would be on the ground by now, begging for mercy. König found himself thinking what stopped him from gutting the man right then and there.
"Does the team leader know about this?"
“Never ya mind about that."
"Permission to speak, sir," Zero pushed in.
"Go on."
"This goes against the protocol-"
"Did ya give two shits about the bloody protocol when we were in Adal?"
The abrupt outburst almost made König flinch. Almost.
Zero didn't turn the slightly disgusted gaze away, but snapped his mouth shut.
"I - I can't do it," König muttered.
"You sayin' you refuse to obey an order?"
König straightened upon hearing the word 'order' but otherwise remained in confused silence.
"I suggest you carry on unless ya wanna get demoted to a fuckin' desk job. It's your call."
And with that, Conor turned and marched off. Zero followed suit, sparing a pitiful glance at König as he went.
He was left alone in the bunker hallway, illuminated by a lamp that produced an unnerving buzz.
Conor was only doing this because he liked to bully him. Somehow, somewhere, Lt had lost his humanity, but it wasn't supposed to be his problem. Not until Conor made it his problem.
Something in him made the Lieutenant tick. König didn't know whether it was because he was a relatively fresh recruit or whether it was the fact that he was a foreigner. Hell, maybe it was the mask, how could he know?
"Fuckin' jerry."
And he wasn't even; he was Austrian, but Conor didn't care, which meant that it was something else about him that got under his skin. The man had vehemently decided to hate him, and he could do nothing about it.
König turned to the door leading to the interrogation room, grabbed the doorknob, inhaled deeply, and went in.
The girl was tied to the ceiling with a grey paracord that bit into her wrists as she hung there, barely able to stand. The bastard had bound her unreasonably tight. An ugly sight, that.
But she wasn't.
The thick braid was messy, her arms were more or less bruised, and her face had dirt on it, but she was, by far, one of the loveliest beings he had ever seen. She looked like heaven and hell, an angel of war who had fought for days against overwhelming forces and only wanted to sleep.
He swallowed, glad of the hood making the blob of his Adam’s apple invisible. She stirred and looked up, eyes dark with the burned out wrath of a cornered wild thing. She looked dog-tired, and scared. Beaten. And no one had even struck her yet. Not that he knew of, at least.
She pulled herself to her feet by the rope, although it was long enough to allow her to stand, and raised her chin.
"So you're the one they sent to break me."
-----
It was him.
The man that had gotten her in this situation in the first place.
She had been stupid enough to freeze for a few moments, the crucial little moments that meant the difference between life and death, escape and capture. And for what? To watch how this beast raged on the battlefield like it was his playground, to watch how he plowed through her mates while bullets showered around him. Seemed to evade him even though he was the largest possible target in the whole damn skirmish.
It didn't really help that his gear was gone. He was still one of the biggest men she had ever seen. If not the biggest.
The black hood was still in place, though, making him look like an inquisitor. Or an executioner.
She suspected he was here to make her talk. He could probably make anyone talk... But there was a particular threat present here. She was a woman in a helpless state, and she had a hunch that this mountain of a man wouldn't shy away from any methods that would humiliate and destroy her. He probably enjoyed it: getting a little treat after a nice day in the field.
The man strode to her, and it seemed that the only thing that moved as he walked was his hips. But the sound of his weight, the sheer mass that met the floor through combat boots, made her draw back in a futile attempt to disappear somewhere between her raised arms.
He stopped a generous few feet away, crossed his arms over his chest, then unraveled them again to his sides. He was all corded muscle beneath that black shirt, the fabric barely concealing the curves of a well-built chest. The poor textile stretched from the swell of his shoulders.
She didn't say anything. She expected a punch in the face, a knee to the stomach. Something to get things started.
He walked behind her, much more slowly, the thumps against the cold, hard cement causing the hair on her neck to stand on end. He stepped close, so close that she could feel his body heat against her back.
"Listen to me." She flinched at his voice, far more high-pitched than she would've suspected from such a beast of a man.
"I'm going to help you. But you have to assist me here."
The 'here' sounded more like german for 'hier'. Through her terror sweat and confusion, she found herself wondering how odd it was that the KorTac had some German guy working for them.
"We have to…" he cleared his throat from the falsetto his voice was climbing to.
And she only now realized that he was nervous.
The soldier was fucking nervous.
"We have to have intercourse," he continued, his accent bleeding thick through her senses like some goddamn ASMR she used to calm herself with. A guilty pleasure she succumbed to when she tried to reach sleep after a mission.
Only after she got past the fact that the enemy soldier's voice made her feel tingly, she understood what he had said exactly. What he was proposing.
She knew that nerves and adrenaline were a fucked up thing. You could get turned on during the most absurd situations when the survival instinct kicked in. Those situations could include getting a target on sight and pulling the trigger, or getting hit and receiving care under fire.
Turned out that it could include the prospect of getting tortured by a 6 feet something enemy merc who whispered in her ear with a thick German accent, gently like a lover.
Perhaps this whole set-up was just another kind of torture. A good cop, bad cop routine, in which he was both of the cops. He tried to tear her walls down and make her trust him, and when she refused to tell him anything, he would get to work. Tear her nails off, dislocate joints, rape her bloody.
"I'm not going to speak."
She announced it with a far less stern voice than she would’ve preferred, and heard him swallow. Either he was damn good at acting, or he was the most socially anxious soldier she had ever seen.
He rounded her and stopped only an inch or two from her face. Which only reached the man’s chest, broad and lean, covered in that black shirt and smelling of battlefield along with his sweat - the combination hitting her nostrils as an undiluted, masculine scent. He reached a gloved hand to prop her chin up, to force her to look at him.
It was her turn to swallow, and the angle he forced her neck caused the sound of her gulp to echo in the bunker. The tactical glove had cut-proof padding on the knuckles, and it scratched the delicate facial skin, even though his touch was more of a coax than a yank. But that wasn’t what caught her attention so vividly that it nearly made her knees buckle.
It was his ice-blue stare. The eyes stood out from the holes of his mask, from among the heavily applied black facial paint like two beacons. And they were gentle. Bordering on puppy eyes. The thought alone nearly made her laugh hysterically.
Even with her faltering knowledge of human character, she could’ve bet all in that this man would not hurt her. That he was far from a torturer.
And the knowledge made her even more confused. If he wasn’t the torturer, then who was he? What the hell did he want?
“You have to co-operate.” His voice was strained with something akin to despair.
“I can only help you escape if you co-operate,” he whispered, his voice so low it went straight between her legs.
Jesus, this was not okay.
He released her chin, but she didn’t turn her gaze away. Her eyes roamed his face, or rather, the black hood that covered it. She wondered why he wore it when other soldiers didn’t bother to hide their identities. The only other man she had seen wearing a mask was Lt, with the top of a human skull attached to his balaclava. And even he wasn’t this big. Albeit menacing and shrouded in mystery that came from all things danger, death, and pain, the man before her now intrigued her far more than even Ghost did.
Why did he hide his face? Why was he so… jittery?
And why did he try to escape her gaze?
He looked like the whole situation was too much for him. To say that the man was distraught when she merely looked him straight in the eyes when he told her that they needed to fuck, would be an understatement.
If she were to choose a man to torture someone with his dick, this would be her last choice.
“What’s the escape plan, then?” She asked, still not believing for a second that he would help her, even if he didn’t strike her as intimidating anymore.
"I, uh…"
"You don't have a plan?"
"Well, not yet."
"Why am I not surprised," she murmured into the stale, dusty air of the chamber. "Why would you even want to help me?"
"I don't hurt women," he said and took a step back as if to confirm that statement.
This was so fucking ridiculous. He was a mercenary in a filthy bunker with a bound prisoner, assuring that he was a gentleman. Was she on candid camera or something?
She had never been in a situation like this. She had never imagined being in a situation even remotely close to this. She would have laughed over the absurdity of the whole thing but couldn't, because her lower lip started to tremble.
He noticed it and instantly shifted weight from one leg to the other. He tried to direct his anxiety into the leisurely movement, and it caused his hips to sway from one side to the other, making her think of all kinds of stupid associations, such as lapdance and snake hips.
With those rather tight khaki pants, it was impossible to prevent her eyes from darting to the bulging thighs and the evident package he was delivering between them.
Jesus fucking Christ, pull your shit together…
"I'm going to get you out of here," he promised.
"That's cute of you," she tiredly threw in, getting far too much satisfaction out of the reaction her words managed to pull out of him. He blinked a few times, and the colossal chest heaved as if the man was trying to catch his breath. "Funny that you need to fuck me to be able to do so."
Another switch from side to side, a sway of those goddamn khaki-covered hips.
"I'm almost positive that the only surveillance they have on this room is that camera over there. The screen is in another room," he told her, sounding stupidly proud of his debatable skills in spying. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "But the guys there are usually watching tv," he hurried to add.
"I doubt they will today if your orders are to rape me." Again, he looked abashed, eyes darting to the floor and back to her. Was this guy thick in the head or something? "Probably got their beers popped and their pants down by now…" she said, and the man let out something close to a squeal.
"That is exactly why we have to… provide them with something until I come up with a plan."
She looked at him and almost smiled. Like one would smile at a daft dog that was far too eager to please.
"You just said you don't hurt women," she said.
"That is why I very much wish you would co-operate," he answered.
"You are the weirdest torturer ever."
"I - I am not a torturer. I'm just a soldier," he tried to assure her with that climbing voice. He was shitty at concealing his uneasiness. The man was completely flustered.
"Then why did they assign you with this… task," she demanded to know. It was yet again laughable: as if he was the one being grilled here. He wouldn't answer, and she cocked her head to the side.
"Ever interrogated with your dick before?" She blurted.
His hands were trembling. Slightly, but they were.
"Negative," he said, voice tight.
Was this guy….
Was he a virgin?
The twisted concept of some romantic chivalry, the nervousness, the respectful distance he kept, and the fact that his hands started shaking when she said a dirty word, all pointed to the possibility that he very much might be.
She thought he was picked because he was big, because his obvious blessings in the crotch department also held a promise of pain. But this guy certainly didn't know what the heck he was doing. And not only because he wasn't a torturer or because he didn't want to hurt a lady. She could almost swear, hand on Bible, that this man had never been with a woman. Not much further than the first base, anyway.
"Well, get on with it then."
She told herself it was only because it was useless to postpone the suffering that would eventually come anyway.
She told herself it was not because she was trying to break a Guinness world record of developing Stockholm Syndrome to this guy and his adorableness. She told herself it was definitely not because she kinda sorta wanted to see how he would act when he had to actually pull that cock out and touch her with it.
He stared at her, eyes wide beneath that oversized hood, and she could swear it was his heart, not hers, that made that thumping sound.
"I am going to touch you," he informed her. Like the dumbest moron.
If she ever got out of here, and if she ever, ever told this story to someone, they wouldn't be able to believe it.
He took his gloves off - why would he even bother to do that? - and let them drop to the ground.
His fingers were long, the fingernails meticulously cut. There were a few scrapes and scratches here and there on his palm, indicating his lack of coordination. Clumsy boy.
When he reached for her, she assumed he would go for her tits, or her waist, or grope her ass. But he didn't. Fingers cupped her face, trembling still, before they slid over her neck and grabbed her throat, not to choke, but to revel. Like she was a sculpture or something, and he wanted to know how the material felt. How soft she was.
She looked into his eyes, because eyes told everything; they would betray a flash of sadism or whatever else she still expected from this strange man. They roamed all over her, darted across her face, every now and then to her eyes, but mostly avoided her stare like the plague. He wouldn’t hold a gaze for much longer than a glimpse of a second. And there was still no sign of lust for inflicting pain. Only perplexed wonderment.
Her hands and arms were numb because of the position she was in, hands tied above her head, blood flow inhibited. But she paid it no mind as his hand traveled down her neck, caressed her collarbones, and then stopped right before he reached the gap between her breasts, free game in the white tank top she had been left with, along with her cargo pants and boots.
“Can I… May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice muffled and so thick that it was difficult to untangle what he had said.
It was such an odd request that her words left her, and she could only produce a whimpering sound at the back of her throat. He took it as a yes, and raised his hood, only enough to reveal a pair of thin lips among a light brown stubble. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, then opened again, as if he didn’t know how to proceed.
He bent down like the giant he was, not hinging at the hips but hunching over towards her, probably trying to appear smaller but ending up looking like there was a tower falling on her. The smell of gasoline and sweat hit her as his lips met hers, parted, and a shy flick of tongue swept across her bottom lip. She tried to remember how to breathe and ignore the rush of wetness that told her she would have no problem whatsoever with him parting her nether lips too. He captured her lip, sucked, then opened his mouth wider and hers with it.
She answered his kiss - just a little bit, and he instantly deepened it and moaned into her mouth. She fluttered her eyes open and saw that his were squeezed shut. He pressed a hand against her back and pulled her against his overwhelming body. All she could feel was muscle… and then some more. He was hard, the thick erection colliding with her stomach all but seductively. She went completely stiff, eyes wide and lips tight.
The man went even more rigid, if possible. He released her mouth with a grunt and buried his head in her neck.
"I can't -... I can't do this, I'm gonna go and tell him they need to find somebody else," he said in a strained voice, riddled with pain.
No. No.
The fuck he would.
If he would be replaced by somebody else, some crazy, blood-drunk soldier with cold eyes and a knife, some jerk-off who hadn't had a go with a woman since their last leave, she would fucking die.
"Please don't," she hushed and swallowed against him, the place where his hood and the collar of his shirt revealed skin.
"I want it to be you," she continued to whisper in his ear, meaning to say If it has to be somebody, let it be you, but choosing to deliver a sentence as persuasive as possible. As inviting as possible.
So that he wouldn't leave her in the hands of someone with no mercy.
"Scheiße…" The hot air brushed against her skin, even through that hood.
"If only I could touch you too," she said, regretting it immediately. She was acting a little too enthusiastic in the midst of her panic. Trying desperately to prevent him from leaving.
But the hand on her back moved down a bit, and long fingers splayed over the small of her back, pressing gently.
"Don't tease me," he huffed, panting although they were both quite still.
Jesus Christ… at this rate, the KorTac could hire her to do the interrogations.
She wondered whether the surveillance team was looking at the scene, which was far too intimate and loving to be an interrogation. What kind of a man would try to pry information out of someone by embracing them gently? Kissing them hesitantly?
In a way, this was torture: she didn't know what would happen to her after… whatever this was. She didn't know what procedures would follow when the others found out he had no intel for them to tell.
Let's get this fucking over with.
"What's your name?" She asked, hoping that the puppy boy wasn't naive enough to tell her his actual name.
"They call me König."
King in german...
"König…-"
She meant to ask him to touch her so that this horrible, awkward mess would come to at least some sort of an end, but couldn't find the words. His name on her tongue seemed to do the trick, though. He ground his hips against her, and had she not been tied to the ceiling, the movement would have toppled her. The hand on her back went behind her knee and raised it to his hip. Then another hand slid down to do the same to her other knee, pulling her from the ground like she weighed nothing at all.
The strain on her arms was released, and the relief was heavenly. For that alone, she could've let him do whatever he wanted to her.
"You're so klein… small," he commented with her raised to straddle his lap and her face finally on the same level as his. "Small people make good snipers," he declared with a hint of longing in his voice.
She had a terrible urge to sling the bundle of hands over his head. And not for self-defense reasons.
"I'm not that small, you're just big," she said, like a beauty to the beast, like it was a cute scene in a movie where everybody was nice to each other. Her gut feeling of the man being a virgin only increased by the minute. He was so… blameless. It was downright unintelligible that he was a soldier.
But she had seen how brutal he was on the field, how he had struck holes in her teammate with a combat knife like he was playing tag and didn't quite know the rules. Didn't know that one stab in a well-picked spot would have sufficed.
She had seen him haul a grown man with 100 extra pounds of tactical gear on him up like the poor man was a barbell, and bring them down over his knee. The sound of a breaking spine would probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. She had simply gawked at the display of utter, brutal violence before her. Normal men, even soldiers of a special forces tactical unit, simply didn't do stuff like that. Hands-on, down in the mud, barbarian kind of stuff from medieval times.
And now the same man was fondling her like she was his sweetheart. Like he was about to carry her in the bedroom full of roses and other syrupy valentines shit.
"And what do they call you?"
The accent was really doing things to her, along with the few german words tossed here and there, absentmindedly like candy. He was an enigma with his colossal body, croaking voice, and gentleness that surpassed even the violence.
"Valkyrie."
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, astonished.
"My team found out I used to do fencing, and I'm blonde, so…"
It was silly and the swords weren't even that big. One could hardly call them swords at all, the pointy little things they were.
But the situation indeed had taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.
She stifled the urge to shake her head, to snap out of where this was spiraling into.
Affection.
They barely even knew each other's codenames. She was in a modern version of a dungeon, lit by a single light bulb, about to get raped by some edgy, mentally unstable goliath, she reminded herself. While perhaps psychologically interesting, he was not okay. This was not okay. She had been trained for situations like this.
Except that she wasn't. She was trained to withstand torture, battering, spending days in a cell where the lights never went out. She knew methods to draw the mind away from constant pain. But she hadn't received instructions on what to do in a situation where she wasn't even being questioned. Not even on the sly. Her call sign wasn't much of a secret. They probably knew who she was before they brought her to this room.
"There are many stories of valkyries in my Heimat," he prattled on enthusiastically.
"Yeah, I know the Nibelung saga," she said.
"Very heroic, very German tale."
"You ought to know."
"No no, I'm not German, I'm Austrian," he said.
This was turning into an odd conversation.
"König." She said in an attempt to bring his attention to the present moment. He fluttered his eyes, long lashes batting over that innocent-looking stare.
"Don't. Just… don't," she tried not to stutter.
He had lied to her about not being a torturer. Chatting with her like they were on their first date, discovering that they were actually intrigued about one another... It was insufferable. Although she was the one who had started it by asking his name…
"Right. Getting on with it," he said like he had been given an order. Her heart stung. Tears were welling up from the absurdity of this whole situation, from his silliness, from her having felt rather comfortable and safe in his hold. Fucking safe.
She should quit the army when she got out of here. If she got out of here. She wasn't right in the head to continue with this job.
"I've been an idiot," he told her.
You're damn right.
An idiot she could imagine herself falling in love with in another situation, but an idiot nonetheless.
"You should put on more of a fight, and…" he trailed off.
And you should be rough, you dumdum, she thought. Again, in another situation, she would've probably loved him to be rough.
"Roger," she said to him and heard him chuckle, saw how a few wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. He lowered her down to the ground, and she hissed when her arms extended against the rope again. He let her go, gently, like it was his fault that she was attached to the roof.
"I would help you, but -"
"It's ok." She gave him a weighted look that told him to stop speaking. To get on with the action so that she wouldn't get attached even more than she already was.
He grabbed her by the throat again, doing a shitty job at trying to make it look like he was manhandling her. His eyes landed on her chest, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, thinking about whether he should tear her top. Apparently deciding against it, he went for his trousers instead, pulling the belt buckle open with a click.
It had been a while, what with all the stress and the sleep deprivation not being an ideal combo to get her juices flowing. But nothing could prepare her for the surge of wet heat when the front of those light brown pants practically gave way for what must’ve been the largest bulge she had ever seen. It was almost vulgar, even more so when the fabric of his boxer shorts stretched at the sudden throb.
She realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she closed it carefully, but her lips parted again when he continued to shove both of those pants down. He didn’t even bother to take them off, and they were left somewhere mid-thigh, with belt buckle dangling in the air.
And God, he was huge.
It wouldn’t even stand up properly, even though there was no doubt that he had a full-on erection. It jerked between them like a threat, or a dare, but mostly it was just a long, thick, veined baulk that couldn’t support itself because it was just so goddamn big. He was uncut, but the foreskin had drawn back from the arousal, and the tip of his slit glistened with precum.
And he was flustered again, misinterpreting her stare as a sign of fear instead of awe.
"I promise I'll be quick," he whispered, and the first thing that her mind chirped back was Please don't. And not because it would probably be painful. But because she desperately wanted him to slide that monster in inch by inch and take his beautiful time with it.
"Uh-huh," she managed to say before the man codenamed King stretched his fingers toward her pants.
With trembling digits, he opened them and started tearing them down before realizing she could not spread her legs without him taking the pants off. And then he realized he couldn't take them off without taking her boots off.
So what happened was that her panties and pants were halfway down, and the Austrian hulk kneeled in front of her with his hooded face in level with her pussy. He turned his head to the side and leaned a bit on her thigh to unlace her boots, but she was pretty sure he did it mainly because he was embarrassed to look straight at her cunt.
She helped him as much as she could, raising her feet one by one for him to take the combat boots off. He tossed them somewhere to the side and tore her pants down, all the way down, and over her feet, leaving her in her tank top and socks.
He rose, his cock brushed her thigh, and she jerked like she had been scraped by some sharp object. It bounced at the contact, bumping against her again, sweeping a wet streak over her skin.
"Sorry," he mumbled like it was somehow worse than what he was about to do next. When he would shove… that thing inside her.
He picked her up again, almost in a hurry. Her heart was ramming against her ribcage and her mouth was dry as her feet left the ground. He was hard against her belly, flesh hot and throbbing and slick with precum that pushed out from the tip and left wet stains on her top.
This time she did raise her hands over his head and let the arms come down to rest on his shoulders. Her intuition told her she would soon need the support.
He moved her around like she was a doll, letting the erection drop between them to position himself against her slit. Her folds parted without effort as he slid against them, once, twice, before halting.
Don't comment about it, don't…
"You're wet," he grunted with delighted surprise.
"Yeah?" She said like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Just fucking do it, she yelled in her mind, lips drawn into a straight line so that even a dumbass like he could see that this was not the moment for hesitation.
And he didn't hesitate.
He searched, adjusted himself, adjusted her, spread his stance, grunted…
And it was pretty clear by now that he didn't know what he was doing. Her nipples brushed against his chest as he searched for the right spot with her in his arms, and she hoped he would've taken his shirt off so she could feel skin instead of cotton.
"There," she helped him with a whisper as he hit the right spot. He returned, probed, and she guided him. "Now up…", and he bent his knees while raising her slightly. The angle was right, and he finally drove in, slowly but surely.
The stretch was phenomenal. It hurt more than a bit after he had passed the entrance, and the delicious feeling turned into a burning sensation.
"Wait.." she begged, and he stopped immediately, panting like a runner.
"Back up a bit."
He did, pulling out almost completely before she bucked her hips to let him know he could push back in. And when he did, she gasped, and he moaned, so tight and so glorious that the sound that erupted from him was laced with pure need.
"Ach, you're tight.. soft…"
She clenched around him at his shameless commentary, and he let out another broken sigh.
Of course it's tight when you're so big..
He wouldn't go fully in, and she doubted whether he ever even could. She had never been this filled. But more was coming.
He withdrew again before thrusting back inside, deeper still.
"Oh Jesus," she gasped, "yes, just like that.." the words escaped her lips and she noticed his eyes were directed at her, drunk and half-lidded.
"Yeah…" he echoed, his voice shivering like a leaf. "Das gut?"
If her hands were free, she would've torn that hood away, buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled until he would expose his fucking throat for her to kiss and lick.
He began thrusting with a steady pace, shallow but intense, going deeper every now and then when he slipped. His hands shifted, one by one, to grab her by her butt to glide her up and down his length. It was fucking hot that he didn't need his hips to fuck her, that he could just move her around with his hands and slam her against it if he wanted to. Her ankles hooked around his waist on reflex, and her fingers flexed in the ties, trying to grasp onto something but finding only air.
"You feel so good," the short, agonized 'good' coming out more like 'gut'; and her pussy tightened, pulled, and sucked him like he was the best thing ever.
"Sch…shit," he breathed laboriously, taking a moment and thrusting even deeper, eyes closing like he was on the brink of losing consciousness..
He hit a spot that was both familiar and unfamiliar, and she was pretty sure that if someone was looking at the surveillance material, they couldn't tell whether the look on her face was of pain or pleasure. She couldn't keep herself in check, couldn't seize control anymore. She was so soaked at this point that the evidence of her arousal was heavy and loud. So audible that it made her cheeks hot.
"I wonder what you taste like," he mused, his hood shaking in sync with his thrusts. "Honey and raindrops, eh?"
"Mh," she sobbed, her thighs quivering. She wanted to spread them more, to let him see her and have a taste, to present herself for him to do as he pleased. But she couldn't move much in his grasp. It was like she had been propped up on a machine, buckled to a seat reserved just for her.
He took a wider stance as if hearing her thoughts on wanting even more of what he had to offer, and she held on to him as he shifted like the continental plates beneath her. He proceeded to fuck her while leaning his head against the side of hers, and she held on to him as he breathed into her neck. The occasional moan sounded more like a sob as his cock slid in and out, in and out, slick with her wetness.
"You're what they sing about in Rheingold," he kept talking that romantic bullshit in her ear while stuffing her with that long Austrian cock that would make most women squirt if he kept at it long enough. "Und Walküre…"
It was so good she wanted to cry. She thought about letting a tear or two slip and saying it was just for the show if he asked. Virgin or not, König was doing a pretty decent job in making her a writhing, weak mess. He was not too quick, not too slow, but set just the right, rigorous pace that would send her into oblivion. He became the fountain stone, the buoy in the storm. He was the man that would send her over the brink and the man to hold her unwaveringly as she fell.
"Not much longer," he informed her light-heartedly, like he was in the middle of a mission about to be completed. Completed to the fucking full.
She couldn't even begin to tell him that she was already there, because everything suddenly coiled and burst, and she was arching her back, making him reach even deeper, almost fully inside her, the heavy balls slapping against her ass as her toes curled and her body went completely rigid…
The sound that broke out was not a yell, nor a scream, it was a violation of her vocal cords. She had never sounded like this — like someone falling and meeting the ground with a strained, lewd groan. Like someone who had the orgasm of their life.
He startled, almost quailed from her. Not because of the screaming, nor the sounds she made after… but because she came, hard, while he was banging her like a battering ram.
"Genau so…" König rasped, taken aback but trying his all to cover it. He slowed down on instinct, letting her greedy pussy suck on him like it was giving him a blowjob, telling him he was a good, good boy… because her words had left her.
He moved a little, and she could see the flash of those eyes from within the darkness of the hood, knew that he was watching her intently as she swam in ecstasy with an open mouth and pinched nose and eyes that wouldn't focus.
"Schön," he continued, sounding fragile. Weak. Vulnerable…
She couldn't for the life of her look at him, look in those eyes that must've told her things she wasn't strong enough to deal with at the very moment.
Her head dropped and her thighs went slack, but König held her, steadfast like the most gallant knight. He resumed his earlier pace with caution and care, breathing distinctly with his mouth open under that black mask. She was limp in his arms, trying to hold on as best she could while listening how the cock drove into her again with moist, sloppy sounds.
The moans that followed didn’t suit a man of his build at all. She had expected brute strength and hoarse grunts, not pinched, needy sobs and a head softly pressed against her. Forehead against fucking forehead. And he probably didn't even know what it was doing to her because he was such a stupid, adorable little — ugh, big dumbass.
She wanted to grasp his shoulders, slide her hands under his mask and raise it, kiss those moans straight from his lips, and run her fingers all over his stubble, the chiseled jawline she had seen only once. She wanted to feel him, all of him, not just his hands and his cock, even though they were good. Or fucking best. It almost made her cry; the post-orgasm need to cuddle for a bit but not being able to do so because her hands were bound to the fucking ceiling of a fucking dull grey bunker.
"Can I… cum..?"
Was he asking her permission to…
"Can I cum inside… Please, I'm close," he panted.
"Yeah… Yes.."
He slowed down the pace as he drew out his own upcoming release, relishing the last thrusts like he was sampling the finest cuisine. She finally dared to look at him and saw that his eyes were open and full of naked, helpless adoration. Devotion, even.
She must have been imagining: they were only the eyes of a man who was about to nut good. But damn if that fevered, helpless stare didn’t succeed in touching her very soul. To her horror, he wasn't shy this time, but held her gaze, held it, held it — until his lashes fluttered and he went over the brink with a cry.
It echoed from the damp concrete walls, just a single, prolonged wail that eventually broke and ended in miserable panting.
She could feel his cock throbbing, shooting the load inside, emptying the whole magazine in her. How the seed welled up, unable to go anywhere before he would decide to pull out.
König laid his head on her shoulder and pulled her against him, and she was not suspended only in rope but in time and space as well. His shoulders moved up and down with the heavy breaths, and she pulled her tied hands to awkwardly brush his neck as he came down from heaven.
He was shaking. Shaking, and let out a whimper against her skin, and for a fleeting moment, she was sure he was crying or on the verge of doing so.
"König?"
He shuddered a sigh, taking a moment to himself.
She felt hollow. Not raped, not assaulted, not abused. Just hollow, knowing what had happened between them would not be a recurring thing. That there was no 'them', not really. Not in the real, actual world.
"You can let go of me now," she whispered, although that was the last thing she wanted him to do.
But he did as she proposed, lowering her down and sliding out of her only after her feet had met solid ground. He pulled out carefully, gently, like he was leaving his beloved. Warm fluid descended down her left thigh in a streak, indicating that it had been a while for him.
Her head was full of dumb thoughts, such as whether he had a girl waiting for him somewhere back home. In Germany perhaps — no, in Austria. And if he had, just how lucky that person was.
She wondered if he had found someone here, and if they were in the military or not.
She wondered if there was no one, if he was alone, and if he curled up in a fetal position every night before he fell asleep in some bed that was too small for him.
And whether he would get into trouble for violating orders.
"You were," he started, eyes directed to the ground, "magnificent."
Was I your first, King?
"You weren't that bad yourself," she complimented him back, and he huffed.
"You liked it?" He asked in a way that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest.
"Wasn't it obvious?" She couldn't help but smile. Couldn't… Wouldn't.
"Ja," he chuckled while looking down at his boots with an interest that was totally born from shyness. "I'm glad I could please you," he said before tucking himself demurely back into his trousers.
She wondered if he was as aware as she was of the fact that neither of them had played out the part they were supposed to. It had all gone out the window the moment he had touched her again. Practically thrown out, as if they were defying death itself together.
He gathered her boots and helped her step first inside her panties and then the cargo pants. He had to go around her back and reach from behind to zip her up and put her belt on, and it was such a mundane, cute act that she thought that this was indeed the cruelest form of torture she had ever witnessed. He hovered over her after he was done, and stole a brief caress of her waist before crouching to lace up her boots.
He rose, and came back in front of her, and the silence between them stretched to a short eternity. There were so many things she wanted to say, things he probably wanted to say, thoughts buzzing in both of their heads like bees as his seed cooled down on her thigh and made her pants stick to her skin here and there.
She thought about thanking him for being gentle, but what was she really thanking him for? Raping her tenderly? With the attentiveness and passion of a lover?
Was it rape if she had enjoyed it? If she had had one of the most powerful orgasms of her life?
He was… she had no words for him. The way he had unraveled her in mere minutes was shocking. Devastating, to say the least.
"I will find a way," he promised for the thousandth time. "I will not let them hurt you."
She nodded slowly, continued to do so while looking at him, her eyes welling with tears.
“Hey, kleine Süße, don't worry.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, soft and sweet. "I will be your Siegfried."
She didn't have the heart to remind him that both Siegfried and the valkyrie died in that story.
Part 2:
Part 2 of Valkyrie
(Part 1 here)
He did nothing to stop her as she grabbed the hood and started to lift it. His vision went black with the
Because I'm board here are all the NSFW audios of the CoD boys I know of, if you know of anymore please let me know. 18+ Minors DNI.
Tagging @honeymoon-ss @hearts-for-mason @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ashiscool10 @ask-the-virtual-council and idk who else to tag, I just thought you guys would like to have this list cause i know i do 🤤, if I tagged you in this and you didn't want to be tagged I'm sorry, forgive me 😭
Unless @kristopher-1105 if you want to check these out
Ghost audios (by Badjhur on Reddit)
Caught by ghost.
Zero hour.
Ghosting the party.
Testing the perimeter.
A specialist's touch.
König audios (by badjhur on reddit)
Doktors orders.
Soap audios (by ScotsLibrarian on reddit)
Late hours.
That's all the ones I know of! If you know anymore please feel free to share and I'll add them to the list.
Königs whimpering and whining is muffled by you. His hands grip the flesh of your thighs, encouraging you to rock and grind against his face as he laps up all your juices. Ghost is panting behind you, his quiet grunts and moans as he ruts into König. “S’good.” He growls as König moans into your cunt. Gripping the headboard, the bed rocking as you white knuckle it. Feeling another orgasm build as you work yourself against his face. His grip tightens around your hips, you can barely hear his muffled, “Keep going Schatz.” Feeling some tears well up as the orgasm tears through you, your thighs suffocating the giant under you. Ghost grunting, feeling his thrusts become more rapid. Turning your head and through weepy eyes, watching as he wraps a gloved hand around König’s cock and starts pumping him. You feel his tears leak down the side of your thighs as he cums across his stomach and chest. Getting off him, you pet his sweat soaked hair. Telling him how good he did as Ghost runs a bath, walking in and pressing a kiss to both of your foreheads.
König had a crush on both you and Ghost, but he would be surprised to learn that the two people he was practically infatuated with were married. Lucky for him, the two of you want him as well.
WC : 3K
Warnings ~ Oral {F&M} | PiV | Anal {M} | Toys | Masturbation {M} | Threesome | Unprotected Sex | Sub!König Switch!Reader Dom!Ghost | Descriptions of violence (just a little not a lot) | Creampie |
No use of Y/N (i don't think, there isn't supposed to be)
Not proofread (yet)
When König joined the 141, he was terrified. He knew of Price's habit. Picking some of the most lethal men in the military.
So he was surprised when he met you. The notorious 'Asylum', greeting him with a smile and a hug. Talking about how she had seen his file. Really impressive work.
König knew about your file as well. Knew that most of it couldn't be seen as it was marked as 'confidential'. So, why were you called Asylum?
When he asked Soap about this, the Scotsman merely laughed, telling him that he'll find out soon.
Find out soon he did. You were on a mission, and the team had a guy kidnapped for questioning. Nobody could get anything out of him.
'We should send her in' Price stated, lighting a cigar.
Ghost merely chuckled while Soap went white.
'Put König in with her. He should see what she's capable of' Ghost suggested.
Price nodded and motioned for you both to head into the room.
König followed you closely. Curious as to what you would do.
The man tied to the chair lifted his head, smirking when he saw you.
'And what are you gonna do pretty girl?' He asked.
You merely got closer to him, leaning down in front of his face.
'Listen, you could tell me what I need to know, or you can be in a world of pain' you said quietly.
'Fuck. You. Whore.'
You sighed, getting up and exiting the room, before coming in with a duffel bag? König stared at you.
Watching the way you dumped the bag on the ground. Grabbing a hammer out of it.
You gripped the hammer tightly before slamming it into the mans left kneecap. The man screamed out in pain, the sound of his knee cap breaking making König shudder slightly.
'Are you gonna tell me anything yet?' you asked, almost kindly.
the man kept his mouth shut.
you shrugged, reaching back into the bag, grabbing pliers.
'I'm gonna pull out your teeth one by one, until you give me an answer. If the answer you give me isn't worth my time or untruthful, I'm ripping out a nail' you said grabbing his jaw.
By the time you had gotten your answers, the man had only 4 teeth and 3 fingernails.
König understood why you were called Asylum now.
And he hated to admit that the scene had him feeling things. Watching you make this man who was at least twice the size of you break and cry, had him thinking.
But what felt most unsettling, you were back to smiles and jokes almost immediately after the ordeal.
König had a crush. He hated that word. He had a crush on you...and Ghost. But he couldn't help it ok? Ghost had this voice that drove him crazy, and your lighthearted personality compared to you on a mission had König's head spinning.
And what was worse? Soap knew.
'You haven't got a chance lad' he laughed.
'W-what why? I-I think I'm nice enough' König spluttered
'because they're married-'
'really? Wonder what Ghost's type is'
'-to each other'
'oh'
God that did not help König in the slightest. His mind now swarming with images of the two of you fucking. You pressed against a wall, Ghost fucking into you hard enough that picture frames were falling off the wall.
Images of you giving Ghost the most soul sucking head, Ghost fucking your face, tears streaming down your face.
Images of Ghost biting your thighs before shoving his face into your cunt. You gripping his hair like a vice. Bucking your hips, practically riding his face.
But his mind crossed into new territory. Something he hadn't thought of before.
You and Ghost fucking him, together.
You grinding on König's cock as Ghost fucks him. Ghost grabbing your hair, pulling your head back to spit in your mouth.
You sucking König's cock, leaving a sticky ring around the base of his cock from your lip-gloss. Your ass in the air as Ghost fucks into you from behind, causing you to moan around König's cock, creating a vibrator effect.
The idea of you and König tying Ghost to the bed, teasing him, using a vibrator all over him, except the part he needs it most just to have his hard exterior crumble.
'König! Mate!' Soap yelled.
'Sorry, got distracted' König sighed
'Can tell' Soap chuckled.
Thankfully, Soap didn't bring it up again. Merely throwing a glance when König would stare at you and Ghost for too long. To which König could feel himself burning up under the mask.
But one day Soap told König that you and Ghost were sparring. One of your guys' infamous sparring sessions. Everybody on base talks about them. Especially Soap.
As König and Soap walk in, already seeing the two of you in the sparring ring, König whispers to Soap.
'This is hardly a fair fight, they're gonna go easy on each other because they're married'
Soap just cackled, slapping König on the back.
König was so, so wrong. As soon as Soap said the word, you and Ghost were kicking, punching, König even thinks he see's you bite Ghost at one point.
König watched as you pulled Ghost's head down towards your raised knee. hearing the crack of Ghost's mask. Holy shit.
König hated how turned on he was. Watching you smile down at Ghost, before landing a punch on his jaw.
'I have to go' König mumbled
'Have fun!' Soap yelled
König got back to his room fairly quickly. rushing to lie down on his bed, his hands flying to get his belt unbuckled and fly unzipped.
Pulling out his painfully hard cock, he spat in his hand, stroking slowly, as his hand reached the tip, he swiped his thumb over the slit, causing himself to whimper quietly.
He couldn't get you and Ghost out of his head. What Ghost's cock would taste like, what you would taste like.
He imagined himself and Ghost, holding you, sandwiched between the two burly men, Ghost fucking into your ass, König fucking into the tight heat of your cunt. Your head lolled onto Ghosts shoulder, unable to hold in the whimpers.
And then his mind flew to having you sit in front of a full length mirror, Ghost devouring your cunt as you sat between König's legs, watching yourself come over and over on Ghost's tongue as König sucked hickeys and tweaked your nipples.
König was so close to his release. His eyes shut in pleasure, one more swipe of his thumb over his slit, he knew he would be done for.
But König was suddenly grabbed by his shirt, and slammed against the wall. His eye's shot open, to see Ghost, his piercing eyes, full of anger. König whimpered, he was fucking terrified, but he couldn't help the feeling of arousal that flooded through him and down to his cock.
Ghost looked ravishing. His balaclava not covering the chest that peaked from his tight fitting shirt, his chest (of what König could see) was sweaty, König wanted to lick the beads of sweat that were probably running down Ghost's face.
His cock jumped at the thought, and that didn't go unnoticed by Ghost. König was roughly pulled from the wall before being slammed back into it
'You like getting off to the thought of fucking my wife?' Ghost practically growled.
'N-no! I swear, I swear I don't! Please!' König exclaims, tears filling his eyes.
'He's right honey, he wasn't getting off to the thought of just me' you giggled from behind Ghost.
Oh fuck, this was so much worse. So, so much worse. You were here too.
Ghost huffed letting go of König
'Are you okay König? Hope Simon didn't hurt you too badly' you asked, moving in front of him.
What was going on? You should be terrified, disgusted, mad, furious. But you're caressing König's face instead.
König swallowed thickly, looking down at you.
'We know about your dirty little thoughts König' you smile.
König wanted to die. Right then and there. How? How did you know?
'You aren't very quite soldier' Ghost said gruffly. König's eyes widened as he looked between the two of you.
König couldn't get the two of you fucking him senseless out of his mind. His hand moving at an almost inhumane speed, he tried covering his moans. But some slipped through.
'Scheiße! Bitte! Asylum, Ghost please, please let me come! oh Scheiße!'
Fuck. That was a week ago. König could've sworn he heard footsteps outside his door. But he couldn't care less as his orgasm rocked through him.
'König~' you said, his eyes snapping back to you. You reached down and gripped König's cock.
And König came.
König fucking came.
From the most simple touch.
König could hear you and Ghost laughing together as he rode his high, bucking his hips into your hand.
As he came down from his (mind-blowing) orgasm, whimpering as he felt a hand stroking him still.
He looked down to see Ghost's gloved hand, König's head shot up, looking at the only slightly shorter man.
'Ha-ah~ Ghost, please~!' König cried out
'König, sweetie, you don't have to call him Ghost anymore. Call him by his real name, he'll go feral' you voiced from the bed.
'Si, Scheiße, SiMON~!' König wailed as cum spurted from his cock again.
König felt like he was gonna pass out, he felt tears under his hood.
In a surge of confidence (and post orgasmic bliss) he removed his hood. He could hear you gasp, and he saw Simons eyes widen slightly. He was gonna put it back on, worried he had ruined whatever the fuck was going on.
'Oh Köni~ you're so pretty' you smiled walking up to him, grabbing his face, pulling it down and inspecting it. Rubbing your thumb over the scar on his cheekbone.
He could feel the rush of blood go to both his cheeks, and cock.
'Isn't he pretty Si?' You asked the masked man now behind you.
'Real pretty' Ghost agreed.
You pulled König towards the bed, pushing him to lie down.
'Already hard again Big Boy?' Ghost asked. And König nodded pathetically.
'He has good stamina Si' you said, straddling König.
'God look how deep he's gonna go sweetheart, he's thick too. Have to stretch you out doesn't he' Ghost chuckled darkly.
He wasn't wrong. König stared at how you held his cock to you, seeing how far he would go. He would reach so far into you, the thought making his cock jump.
König moved his hands to your waist and moved you, so you were lying underneath him. He sat up on his knees, turning his head to Simon.
'Are-Are you sure this is all-um, okay?' he asked.
Ghost removed his balaclava, and grabbed König by his chin, locking their lips.
König gasped as Simon slid his tongue into his mouth. Moaning into the kiss.
They broke apart, a string of saliva connecting their lips still.
König could really admire Simon now, his blonde hair and sharp jawline. Something he thought he would only dream about.
König heard you whimper underneath him.
'She's so fucking impatient' Simon whispered. To which you groaned.
Simon helped König to his feet before practically tearing his clothes off. Doing the same to himself. And both men looked at you hungrily.
Fear flooded you but also flooded your hungry need.
König got back on the bed and pulled your pants along with your panties off. As Simon helped you to remove your shirt and bra. König settled between your thighs.
He wet his lips, moving forward to lick into you, but before he could he felt Simon grab his hair. Pulling him just enough so he wouldn't be able to taste you. No matter how hard he tried.
'Beg for it' was all Simon said. Staring directly into König's eyes.
'Please? Pleasepleaseplease, wanna taste her so bad, know she'll taste good, she'll taste so good. Please Simon!' König asked.
Simon shoved König's face into your dripping cunt. Almost immediately you arched your hips. König's large hands gripping your hips, pushing them down.
You writhed in his iron grip. The pleasure overwhelming as he sucked your clit, moving his tongue to lap the juices practically pouring out your cunt.
You were close. Your hands pulling harder on König's hair. Moans moving to a higher octave.
Your thighs started shaking, so, so close.
Simon pulled König up from between your thighs. König's whines being louder than yours
'Please! She was so close to cumming! Please just need to feel her come on my tongue. Please!' König whimpered.
God he needed you to come more than you did it sounded.
Simon shoved König's face back into your cunt. König whimpering happily as he lapped up your juices.
König was gripping your hips and thighs like a lifeline. Something to keep him grounded.
'What's this?' Simon asked amusedly. König's eyes shot open and saw Simon standing next to his bedside table. Dildo in hand.
'No need to be embarrassed baby. Something we can have even more fun with' Simon said grabbing the bottle of lube from the bedside table.
König focused back on your clit, sucking on it like a lollipop, and your thighs started shaking again.
König removed his right hand from your left thigh, his finger dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the spot that would have you falling over the edge in no time.
König focused back on your clit, moaning as he felt Simon push a thick finger into his ass.
Simon moved his finger trying to find the spot in König that would make him-
'Mmmph!' König moaned around your clit, causing you to cum all over his tongue and finger. Pulling at König's hair and hips bucking sporadically.
König was addicted to your taste. His tongue lapping at your abused cunt.
You whined, overstimulated as König kept moaning around your puffy clit.
You shuffled out of König's grip finally. and motioned for Simon to remove his finger from König.
Simon did so, and flipped König over, smiling at his red chest and face.
'More' König moaned pathetically.
'Greedy' you laughed.
Simon squeezed a glob of lube onto the toy, pushing it slowly into König's hole. König let out a soft moan at the intrusion before relaxing into the pleasant sensation.
'How close were you? Huh König?' You questioned, letting a glob of saliva fall from your lips and onto König's cock.
You leaned down licking at his tip.
'So, so close!' König moaned.
You smiled, sucking on his tip. Causing him to buck his hips into the sensation.
You pulled off him, Simon pressed a button on the toy, a loud humming sound filling the room.
König moaned loudly, and you covered his mouth.
'König honey, I love your sounds but you don't want to get us caught do you?' you asked sweetly.
König shook his head no. And you started fingering yourself with two fingers, stretching yourself out. Watching as König's eyes rolled in the back of his head.
'Sweetheart, get on his dick' Simon said.
You smiled at him, before looking at König, his eyes almost comically wide.
You moved over and positioned yourself over König's large cock, sinking down slowly, your mouth falling open at the stretch, König moaning as you slid down his cock.
'Si-Simon' you moaned, swallowing before continuing 'fuck him'
You saw König's eyes widen again and he whimpers quietly from the feeling of Simons fat tip nudging at his hole.
You started bouncing on his cock, moaning quietly, and König moaned very loudly at the feeling of Simons cock entering him.
You leaned down quickly, covering König's mouth. Still bouncing on his cock.
'We gotta buy him a gag Si' you smiled
König nodded enthusiastically at the idea.
'He's such a slut' Simon commented.
You continued bouncing on König's cock, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your lower stomach.
'Feel that Köni?~ you're so deep' You moaned.
König moaned pathetically again, and you grabbed your panties that were discarded to the bed and shoved them into König's open mouth.
His eyes opened widely before rolling to the back of his head.
'Fuck I'm gonna cum!' you moaned, reaching your fingers down to your clit, rubbing messy circles.
'Me too lovie' Simon groaned, fucking into König relentlessly.
König couldn't believe this was happening. Watching your tits bouncing in front of his face, his eyes couldn't stop glancing down to the bulge that continuously appeared.
'I think Köni has a size kink Si' you sighed softly
König heard Simon chuckle, and Simon started fucking the spot inside him that would make him see stars.
'Gonna come!' König moaned, although muffled.
'Come Big Boy' Simon moaned, and König was gone.
His vision went white, he doesn't think he has ever come this hard in his life. And then he felt you clenching around him, your juices covering his cock, he also felt Simon shoot his cum inside of him.
He doesn't know if he came again or if his last one never ended. He swears he passed out.
He actually passed out.
He woke up to feeling a cold sensation on his dick, he whined but heard your muffled voice tell him that you were just cleaning him up.
He relaxed soon after, but not for long because he felt a water bottle be pushed against his lips.
König's tired eyes opened and saw Simon mouthing something to him, no he was saying something.
'come on, you gotta drink König' he said.
König gulped down the water, and pushed it away.
He felt somebody's warm body next to him but he couldn't care less who it was, he wrapped himself around them and judging by the size, it was Simon.
He soon felt your body on the other side of him and he didn't know what to do, did he hug Simon? Did he hug you? Should he have just left? It was his room though.
'You guys don't have to stay' König whispered.
'We're not going anywhere Köni'
'Yep, not going anywhere' Simon agreed.
König felt you pull his shoulder and he let go of Simon.
He felt you hug his side as Simon hugged the other.
He could swear he was still dreaming, but everything felt too real.
HI BOZOS!!!!!!!!
Longest fic in a while goodness me
I did this in one sitting jesus.
Anyway hope ya'll liked it, lmk if you did by liking, commenting, reblogging, or maybe even following idk.
oh also that little title i did, i thought it was pretty funny
I think i'm gonna start writing more COD stuff just for funsies
cw: werewolf au, size kink, "not", religious themes, gn! reader, google translate moment, lamb used as a term of endearment, bit of role play??
you sobbed so sweetly into the thin red carpet of the church. your body was laced in a thin layer of sweat, only illuminated by the silver blue window panes. back arched, knees aching, you called out to your god, panting between cries of pleasure.
Konig's wide hand pressed your head, pushing your cheek further to the floor. "cry for your god little lamb, er kommt nicht, um dich zu retten.." ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ
the massive creature had finally cornered you. so ironic that this hellish beast had you on all fours in front of the alter. god gazed upon you, you could feel him turn his back to you when you relished in the pleasure of sin, right at his feet. the cold shun you got, no answer to your cries. none at all.
every time you would pray to the wretched gods they would simply take from you and give nothing in return. you watched as people won millions, people healed from illnesses, but you. they couldn't even spare another glance.
"what's wrong, kleines lamm? Du hast wohl die Sprache verloren.." ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵖᵉᵉᶜʰ
you felt his clawed hand creep around the side of your neck. cold claws grazed your pulse, your veins, the tendons of your neck. he pulled you back against him, your back against his broad chest. you could feel him bulging out every inch of you. his giant maw was right above you now, giving you a good look at just how big he was.
konig was pushing 10 feet if not more. the fact he fit inside you at all was a miracle. finally, one prayer god answered.
his hand rested over your stomach, pressing his claws into your flesh. "could eat you alive," he growled, hunching over until you were caged under him.
the hard church floor rubbed red bruises into your knees, your elbows. eventually you let your chest fall to the thin carpet, cheek relishing in the cool feeling against your face. konig lifted your hips with ease. you could tell he was trying to work your body open for his knot.
fuck why was he so big
konig gently licked at your spine, gathering your wrists in one broad hand. you didnt protest. you never did. since this back and forth started. you prayed for the gods to bring you something, anything to live for. maybe they worked 2 miracles. giving your body the resilience to fit his swelling knot and giving you someone who adores the way it does.
you panted, gently rocking your hips back against him. his chest rumbled, glowing eyes meeting yours. you stared into the upside down face of your werewolf partner. his woodsy scent filled your nose, his breathy growls and huffs filled your ears, his body filled yours.
your back arched a bit more, allowing him just the right angle to hit every sweet spot so deliciously. "please.." you whimpered through a breath. "konig.. i can take it."
say no more
it only took a few more thrusts before you were being split open by him. he encouraged your body with soft licks and more drool. there was a satisfied silence through the cold church when his knot finally popped
when the breath came back to your lungs your lower half was twitching and involuntarily grinding on his. he held you still with a firm hand, letting a shiver stand his fur on end.
