#Konig mw2

[falltoodeepinmymetaphor]

LIKE A PRAYER

i dont usually write like this anymore but i was feeling nostalgic so! ill release better stuff soon nuff

könig is a barren field.

there’s nothing alive under his hands. nothing that breathes, nothing that blooms. the shape of his palms doesn’t cradle, doesn’t hold.

only takes. only presses.

his fingers curl wrong, like they’ve been broken and pieced back together too many times, always in the wrong places, always in the wrong ways.

they look like something trying to be gentle but not knowing how.

and yet here you are.

gods have mercy, here you are.

the light finds you first. it always does.

it slides through the curtains, a crooked benediction, and stretches itself thin across your arm, the soft slope of your shoulder.

the light knows. it must. it bends for you, trembling at the altar of your skin. it searches for the place where divinity lives- just beneath your clavicle, deep inside the cathedral of your ribs.

könig understands. he understands.

your spine curves to meet his chest, and it feels like prayer. not the kind they teach in holy books. not the clean hum of hymns in a whitewashed chapel, but something raw.

something bloody.

something with teeth.

something that begs.

and you give. god, you give.

you stretch in your sleep, your breath steady and deep, your heartbeat thundering beneath the fragile cage of your ribs. it feels like an offering. it feels like forgiveness.

he doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t know how to hold it. doesn’t know how to hold you.

he only knows how to ruin the things he touches. love had always been a kind of violence, and now he does not know how to want without carving himself open in the process.

he asked god once, “why me?” he said into the floorboards of a house that swallowed him whole.

he wanted a reason.

something better than 'you are an unlovable, wretched thing, i wish you were never born, you ruined my life-'

he wanted more than cruelty.

and now here you are— the answer.

you, spelled out in the exhale against his neck, in the way your hand drifts to find his without asking, in the heat of your breath and the fragility of your sleep.

you. you. you.

you, curled here in his bed like a truth he isn’t holy enough to keep. like the answer to a prayer he’s been screaming into the void his whole life.

the atoms of the world rearranging themselves,

saying: i’m sorry.

saying: this.

saying: stay.

he thinks of it often. the way his hands once trembled, empty. the way they tremble now, full. how everything soft feels like a wound.

it embarrasses him, the hunger. the way he’s built his life on loneliness and now he is nothing but ruin in the face of your turning.

how you have undone him by simply being here, sunlight pooling at your feet, half-lost in his blankets.

he wants to tell you. wants to wake you, wants to put his mouth on your name and say: you are all there is. you are all there ever will be.

wants to ask, how do you do it? how do you look at me like i’m not broken?

wants to promise, i will learn to be gentle. i will learn to love without breaking.

but he doesn’t.

he presses his lips to the crown of your head, his hands to the ghost of your ribs, and stays quiet. quiet, and ruined.

alive only in the shape of your breath against his spine.

when his hand finds your waist, he doesn’t expect you to move. but you do. shifting, turning, pressing your hand to his cheek with a tenderness he cannot bear.

he leans into it, heart fracturing, and presses his lips to the center of your palm.

“good morning,” you murmur, voice heavy with sleep.

he wants to say it back, wants to give you something ordinary, something small, but the words that fall from his lips: “i love you.”

you blink, nose wrinkling the way it always does, and it nearly destroys him. his heart lurches, aching in a way that feels like the first crack of spring against a frozen earth.

“that’s not ‘good morning,’” you say, your voice soft, teasing.

his lips curve, a small, crooked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “no,” he says, his accent wrapping itself around the words, “but they say it is good to start the day with truth.”

you laugh, and it is sunlight breaking through stained glass, filling the hollow places inside him he thought would always remain empty. he feels it settle, warm and aching, in the spaces he has spent a lifetime trying to forget.

when you pull him closer, your mouth finding his, it feels like something inevitable, like gravity, like falling.

“tell me,” you whisper, your voice so close it doesn’t sound like a question, more like a promise. “what are you thinking?”

it feels like every prayer he’s ever whispered into the dark, unanswered and aching, has come back to him all at once. in the shape of you. you. the heat of your lips, the way your hands tangle in his hair like you’ve always known the way, like this was always supposed to happen, like it was written somewhere before either of you were born.

his hands shake when they settle on your waist, not steadying you but steadying himself.

he leans his forehead against yours like he needs the contact to stay tethered, like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“you,” he says, and it’s the only word that fits in his mouth. “just you.”

you smile, soft, dangerous, and kiss him again, deeper, slower, until his breath catches, until his fingers dig into your hips like you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

he shifts, pulling you over him, his touch hesitant, reverent, careful in a way that makes your chest ache.

you laugh, your fingers tracing lazy patterns against his skin. “you don’t have to be so careful.”

“let me anyway.”

when he lowers you back onto the mattress, his weight pressing you down, he doesn’t move for a minute.

just looks at you like he’s trying to figure out how you exist, how he ended up here, how any of this is real.

his hands skim your body, slow, deliberate, memorizing.

“you’re staring,” you murmur, voice quiet, lips curling into something soft.

“i am.” his voice breaks at the edges. “i can’t stop. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to this. to you.”

you lift your hand to his face, fingers gentle against his jaw, pulling his gaze back to yours. “then don’t,” you say. “love me new everyday.”

he exhales, shaky, uneven, like he’s been holding it in for too long. the words come out before he can stop them.

“i love you.” his voice cracks, raw, like it costs him something to say it, like it leaves him open and exposed, bleeding out.

you don’t answer.

instead, you pull him down, kiss him like you’re stitching him back together, and he kisses you like he’s unraveling, like it’s the only way to keep himself whole.

when he takes you again, it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to say everything he doesn’t know how to put into words.

your name slips out of him like a prayer, his breath warm against your neck, his hands shaking as they map the curve of your body.

he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes shut tight, like he can’t bear to look at you and can’t bear to look away.

“you make me feel…” he begins, but the words catch, refusing to surface. his voice fractures.

“it’s alright,” you whisper, your hands running down his back, anchoring him. “i know.”

and isn’t that it?

you know.

you know better than he does. than he ever will.

[amagialp]

COD Headcanons: Quiet Moments with them

As always MINORS DNI, also requests open, please go ahead and request im bored n running out of ideas lol:p

mix of soft/sfw/nsfw headcanons

!!warning grammarly used, might detectd spelling mistakes pls lmk!!

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Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost hates being called soft, but when you two are alone, he’s a different man. He’ll tuck you into his chest after a long mission, running his gloved hand through your hair in silence. It’s his way of grounding himself and you.

He won’t admit it, but he loves the way you look in his hoodie. Seeing you wrapped up in his scent makes his chest tighten in the best way.

His kisses are slow and deliberate, savoring every second like it might be his last. But if you push his buttons, he’ll pin you against a wall, letting his darker side take over.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is the type to pull you into the rain just to dance. "C'mon, love! Don’t be shy," he’d laugh, spinning you around like it’s the best day of his life.

He’s surprisingly touchy, always finding excuses to sling an arm around you or pull you close by your waist.

In private, he’s a menace. He’ll whisper the filthiest things in your ear, his accent making every word even more sinful. But it’s all balanced with his playful smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz has a subtle but sweet protective streak. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’ll slide closer, resting his hand on your back as a silent warning.

He’s the king of subtle flirtation, quick winks, passing touches, and compliments disguised as jokes that leave you flustered long after he’s gone.

He loves late night talks with you, his voice soft and low as he shares stories from his past. If you fall asleep on him, he’ll carefully wrap you in a blanket and stay awake just to make sure you’re comfortable.

Captain John Price

Price is the dad friend of the group, but with you, he’s all warmth and charm. He’ll make you tea after a mission, his quiet way of showing he cares.

He’s surprisingly domestic. You’ve walked in on him cooking more than once, his sleeves rolled up and a soft hum in his throat. “You’re late, love. Dinner’s almost ready.”

In bed, he’s steady and controlled, every touch intentional. But he loves hearing you unravel, his name on your lips like a prayer.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro is a flirt, through and through. He’ll call you mi vida or mi amor without hesitation, his deep voice dripping with affection.

He loves teasing you in public, light touches on your arm, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, and flashing that dangerous smile when he sees you blush.

Behind closed doors, he’s both fiery and gentle, always making sure you feel worshipped. He’ll press kisses to your skin like he’s memorizing you.

König

König is shy in public, but with you, he’s a giant teddy bear. He loves holding you, his massive hands covering almost your entire back as he pulls you into him.

He’ll blush furiously if you compliment him, stammering out a flustered, “Danke.” But he won’t stop smiling for hours afterward.

When he’s in the mood, he gets possessive. He’ll lift you off the ground with ease, his voice dropping an octave as he whispers, “You’re all mine.”

Phillip Graves

Graves is smooth and confident, the type to open doors for you and pull out your chair like a gentleman. But don’t be fooled... he’s got a cocky streak a mile wide.

He’ll call you “darlin’” in that slow, Southern drawl, watching the way it makes you shiver. He knows exactly how to get under your skin.

In private, he’s all about control. He loves seeing you surrender to him, his lips trailing over your skin as he murmurs, “Good girl.”

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requests open for anything! (legal)

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

Konig x Reader

Title: A Planned Out Break In

Synopsis: the warnings say it all.

Warnings: ooh boy. Gun play, PLANNED noncon, roleplay (of Konig breaking in), fear play, lots of manhandling, rapeplay, bondage. This is basically a porn fic, let's be honest.

@machveil thank you for the idea <3 this was an awesome piece to write

It was almost impossible to go to sleep last night. You knew that tomorrow, at 4 am that you'd have the time of your life.

So when you finally fall asleep (thank the lord for warm milk + melatonin), you're curled up, an excited grin on your face.

Then you hear *the* bang.

You startle awake, your entire body tense as you get up, grabbing the bat beside your bed you know damn well you won't be using.

You hear the thudding through the house of his heavy, steel-toed boots, heart beating out your chest. Then you see him, it's almost like those found footage films of seeing urban legends.

He stands tall, wearing all his gear, his gun--unloaded--in his hands, his eyes dark, lust filled.

"O-oh..." is all you breathe out, and he lets out a growl of sorts, starting to charge you.

You run, trying not to scream so you don't startle your flat's neighbours. He grabs you, pushing you against the wall, making you groan in pain.

He growls, leaning in, his dirty, grimy sniper hood brushing against your skin. He shoves the head of his rifle against your stomach, hands moving to give you just enough time to *bolt* across the room.

He whistles out "Ring Around the Rosy" as he bangs on various things through the kitchen, your heart practically palpitating to the beat.

You're under a table, one leg purposefully left out. You hear that sly, wolfish laugh, his demonic chuckle ringing through as he runs, the thuds growing louder and louder until he grabs your ankle, pulling you out in one fell swoop.

You yelp out--unplanned, causing Konig to pause. You give a small shake of the head and he keeps going, literally holding you upside down.

You look up at him with wide eyes, tears filling them. It makes him smirk beneath the mask, he throws you over his shoulder, trudging through the house, slamming into walls occasionally.

He throws you on the bed and you're up *again,* trying to back into a corner, or climb under the bed, something- anything to get you away from the man about to devour you.

That's when you hear him grab his gun, training it on you like he'll shoot.

"Take it off. All of it," his low voice growls out, "or a bullet's going through your head."

You whimper out, not really in fear, and start to strip.

"Faster," he shouts after a good moment, making you squirm and start to take your clothes off faster.

Once you're naked he pushed you down onto the bed, climbing onto you. He pushes the cool head of his gun onto your cunt, sliding it up and down your folds as his other, rough hand grabs at your tit, kneading and groping it as your head throws back and you groan out.

"Damn slut.." he growls, "enjoying this?"

He pushes the rifle on your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. It makes you whine out and he just smirks, letting out that sinister chuckle.

"Not so high and mighty anymore, huh? Not trying to run?" He asks, lifting his mask up just enough to start kissing you. You squirm again, trying to push him off, but he grabs your throat, pushing on the sides of your neck.

"You'll shut up and take it, and then you'll thank me," he says, lifting his mask up to spit in your face, it landing on your lips.

And it'd be a horrible lie if you said you weren't extremely into this, your cunt feels like a damn slip'n'slide, but also the knowledge that he could crush you like a twig? It's a little horrifying.

His mask drops again and he grabs your thighs, pushing you so you're in a mating press, prodding and poking you with his gun like a child would with a stick to some roadkill.

He drops his gun, still holding your knees. Then, he grabs zipties from his pocket.

They're secured around your ankles, and that's when he starts to take his belt off. His pants drop and you start to squirm again, before you get a firm slap to the ass and your legs are held up again.

"Stop squirming," he growls into your ear, slapping your pussy with his cock, it making a lewd sound. He slides himself through your folds, letting slick collect on the tip. Then, once he's deemed there to be enough, he grabs your hair and shoves you forward.

"Look at my cock, covered in your slick. Aren't you scared, little thing?" He asks, his tone demeaning, it brings tears to your eyes.

He shoves your head back down, spitting in your mouth, shoving his cock into you. You mewl out desperately, eyes wide as he does this.

He lets out this animalistic grunt, starting to pound into you like a damn jackhammer, making you cry out at each thrust.

He just keeps going, your orgasms meaning nothing to him as he just keeps going, your cunt sopping wet, the sheets soaked, juices and sweat flying everywhere.

By the time he's actually came, you're in tears, drooling on yourself. It makes him chuckle harshly, slapping your ass.

You'd never admit it, but that was the *best* orgasm of your damn life

[zghost333]

Mini Konig! 😍

[bluedrizzle82]

Long distance

Long distance relationships were never your thing, you didn’t like the idea of someone not being able to be there for you when you needed them most. Well after meeting König it all changed, he was antisocial but he was sweet to you.

You met him at a Christmas party your friends dragged you to, you and König both sat in the quiet corner watching everyone else. He made a joke about something and you found it funny. His dark humor, he wasn’t used to anyone laughing at them let alone a girl.

During the rest of the party, you guys talked here and there. Which ended up leading you to getting his number because he enjoyed your company. You didn’t hesitate to give it to him, tall, funny and handsome of course you were eager to give him your number. After leaving the party you texted him almost immediately and it dragged out til later in the morning.

Which brings us here now König is joining the military, it’s breaking your heart because he’s going to be so far after being so close for 2 years. He promises to visit as many times as possible but it doesn’t help, you’re happy for him but still sad. You support him and his decision so decided to not tell him about the child you’re carrying.

[ayothepizzahere4]

To all the COD writers, please make platonic fanfics/hcs,,, like headcannons about YN/reader being practically adopted by the TF-141 or KorTac because they were abandoned 🙏🏽 @ me...

[konigisking]

[ramerooni]

Margaritas

[cheeseatlantic]

i don’t like him but i like his eyes

COFFEE AND COMFORT

The café was small and cozy, but König seemed impossibly big sitting across from you, his broad shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to make himself smaller. He kept fidgeting with the hem of his jacket sleeve, his fingers restless, occasionally brushing against the napkin on the table. You’d noticed his eyes darting toward the counter, then quickly away, over and over again.

“König?” you asked softly, leaning forward to catch his gaze. “Everything okay?”

He froze for a moment before nodding, though the stiffness in the motion gave him away. “I’m fine,” he murmured, but his voice was quieter than usual, almost like he was hoping you wouldn’t press further.

You tilted your head, watching him for a moment. “You don’t like ordering, do you?”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes wide with surprise and a hint of embarrassment. He quickly looked away, his voice dropping even lower. “It’s… not easy for me. Too many people. Too many chances to… mess up.” His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the table, like he was holding himself in place.

Your heart ached at how vulnerable he looked—this mountain of a man who could hold his own in the most dangerous situations, yet struggled with something as simple as ordering a coffee. “Hey,” you said softly, reaching across the table to place your hand over his. He stilled immediately, his eyes flicking back to yours. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do it. I’ll take care of it.”

His gaze searched yours, as if looking for any trace of pity. Finding none, he gave a hesitant nod, his shoulders sagging with relief. “You… you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” you said with a warm smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, then quietly said, “Just a coffee. Black. And maybe… one of those muffins. The blueberry ones. If it’s not too much trouble.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how carefully he worded his request, like he didn’t want to ask too much of you. “Got it. Coffee, black. Blueberry muffin. Anything else?”

He shook his head quickly, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile. “No. That’s all, liebe.”

You stood and headed toward the counter, casting a glance back at him. He was watching you, his hands resting on the table now, his posture a little more relaxed. When the barista handed you the order, you made your way back, setting the coffee and muffin in front of him with a flourish.

“Your royal feast,” you teased lightly, sliding into your seat.

König’s laugh was soft but genuine, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. “Danke,” he said, his voice warmer now. “You’re… very kind.”

“Anytime,” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink. “But next time, we’ll try it together, yeah? No pressure, just baby steps.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “Next time,” he repeated, like he was committing the words to memory.

And for the first time since you’d walked in, he didn’t seem quite so big and out of place. Instead, he seemed like he belonged—safe and understood.

idk anything about him, but i heard somewhere he had social anxiety? me too babes.

@thechaoticcheese here, cheese to cheese…

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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[ichliebedichnicht]

Вежливо просим секса, все учимся у Валеры

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3

ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✨ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrast🤔 he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💢 bonus!!: surprise ;)

@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl

[amagialp]

Lingering (COD FIC)

!!!HINTS OF NSFW MINORS DNI!!! my request are open! feel free to request <3

(gender neutral reader edition)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Simon "Ghost" Riley Ghost wasn’t one for weakness, but tonight, he couldn’t help it. Your laugh still echoed in his mind, sharp and bright, cutting through his defenses like a blade. He sat in the darkness of his room, your voice his only company. His fingers gripped the edge of his mask, the fabric damp with sweat. What would it feel like, he wondered, to hear that laugh up close, unguarded? His hand drifted lower, trembling as he whispered your name into the void, craving the warmth he knew you could bring.

John "Soap" MacTavish Soap leaned against the doorway to your room, arms crossed as he stared at the mess you’d left behind. A smile tugged at his lips, a soft chuckle escaping as he shook his head. You’d never know how much he’d memorized every detail, your favorite book "dog eared"on the nightstand, your hoodie draped across the chair. It all felt too personal, too intimate, and yet here he was, running his hands over the fabric you’d touched, his breathing uneven as thoughts of you, of having you, overwhelmed him.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Gaz was better than this... or so he told himself. But as he sat on the sofa you’d occupied hours earlier, his hand trailing over the cushion where you’d leaned, he knew he was lying. The warmth of your body lingered in the fabric, the scent of your perfume subtle yet intoxicating. He closed his eyes, his hand pressing into the cushion as if he could conjure your presence there. The tension coiled tight in his chest, a bittersweet ache, as he let his mind wander to the what ifs and the almosts.

Captain John Price Price wasn’t one to indulge in fantasies, but the quiet moments after you’d left were a different story. He sat at his desk, your forgotten scarf draped over his hand, its softness a stark contrast to the rough calluses of his fingers. The scent of you was faint but undeniable, stirring something deep within him he thought he’d buried long ago. He closed his eyes, the room silent save for his steady breathing, his thoughts consumed by visions of you walking back through the door, giving him something more than just a memory to hold onto.

König König felt like a giant in your world, clumsy and out of place. Yet here he was, kneeling by your bed, his broad hands brushing the delicate frame of your photograph resting on the nightstand. He didn’t mean to linger, but the softness in your eyes, frozen in that moment, captivated him. His fingers traced the outline of your smile, a quiet desperation filling his chest. If he could only touch you, feel the warmth behind that smile, maybe this aching loneliness would subside. But for now, all he had were the stolen seconds in your empty room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hope you guys enjoyed this short fic, once again my request are open so feel free!

[amaranthinespirit]

könig is determined to breed you (p!link)

his pace isn't nice, its straight mean as he pounds his thick, meaty cock into your drooling warmth, desperate to put a baby in your womb. he's not gentle about it either, mind racing and going dumb at the thought, hastily working to make it happen.

your tummy bulges with the way he sheathes his entire bulbous cock in your tight hole, spongy walls constricting around him, feeling every ridge and vein as you hug him tight. his angry, red tip punches against your cervix, ready to spurt his thick load into your sweet cunt.

he knows you'll let him, you'll let him do whatever he wants as he fucks you stupid, jackhammering deeper and deeper with relentless pace. the backs of your thighs reddening and your plush rear bouncing against his hips. his full balls slap against your clit, making you cry out into the bedding, saliva leaking from your lips.

above you, he moans incessantly, pussy-drunk and whipped as he mindlessly humps you, large, rough hands grabbing at your hips, so tight it might bruise.

he mumbles words you can't quite hear, feeling drooling saliva drip from his lips down onto your bare shoulder, running down your back. his jaw is slack, head tilted back and pupils blown.

it doesn't take long for him to fill you full of his seeds, spurting thick ropes of his white, creamy cum to fill your sweet pussy, coating your walls and leaving you full and satisfied. he pulls out to watch it drip out of you, calloused hands pulling your cheeks apart as he watches your slit leak with his release and drip onto the bed. he takes two thick fingers, smearing it across your folds before fucking it back inside you, hoping it takes.

[dmitriene]

cw: könig is a weirdo and reader match him.

könig likes pretty things, young and vulnerable dolls that bat their eyelashes prettily at him, wrapping their dainty hands around his thick bicep, trailing beside him despite his perverse touch, letting him lure them to his messed bed in some dark apartment, fuck their brain silly.

it's always a one time thing, könig ain't good for a long term relationship because of the bitter need to posses that been festering in him from the start, they just use each other, he has a lovely built body that makes girls salivate, and he packs a cock that is too thick you able to feel the ache even the next morning while trying to escape his apartment.

it's not the same with you, könig notices it by the way you cling to him while he punches his fat cock in your tight pussy, shallow thrusts of his wide hips making his thick cockhead pummel into your spongy spot, your hands clinging against his broad shoulders, walls tightening with rapid pulsing.

you ask him for kisses, enveloping his rough mug with your delicate palms and letting his tongue make out sloppily with your mouth, whining broken groans as he presses a wide palm to your tummy, feeling the bulge beneath where his girthy cock pistons in you, making your pussy squelch with each wet glide, as you coat his length in oozing slick.

you even let könig cum in you, flooding you full of creamy cum that drips out your pulsing hole, making a mess from the sheets and your trembling thighs, not uttering for once that now everything is tacky, instead, you curl against him like affectionate kitten and try to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your cramping legs around his waist.

könig doesn't even knows what to think, you don't try to escape his bed immediately, instead pressing your naked body against his beefy one, letting his twitching cock stay buried inside of you, cockwarmed by your snug walls, as you let his burly hands envelope your frame and rock you to sleep like a baby.

and when you wake up early in the morning with pleasurable ache in your body and pussy throbbing, welcomed by the sight of breakfast in bed and könig clinging to you like a pup, smothering your neck in sloppy kisses and slurringly calling you his girlfriend, you don't run away.

main masterlist. quidelines.