#call of duty modern warfare story

[theblogs2024]

Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare IIl to obtain Time 6 In advance of MWIII Launch

Put together for an prolonged adventure in Call of Obligation: Modern day Warfare II with Time 6, bridging the hole to MWIII. Continue to be locked and loaded for fresh content material as the sport proceeds to evolve.

Get in touch with of Responsibility: Contemporary Warfare II, the motion-packed shooter title from Activision, proceeds to get updates whilst gamers eagerly await COD 2023. With the impending launch of COD 2023, the builders are established to help keep gamers engaged by including more articles to the game.

In the latest news, the rumors about Modern-day Warfare II acquiring an additional time happen to be confirmed by the game's builders. Inside of a weblog submit saying Time 5 Reloaded, the developers hinted with the arrival of the sixth time for Modern Warfare II.

The weblog said, "Year 05 — and Time 06, to be introduced — could be the golden possibility to put together for contemporary Warfare III." This announcement causes it to be crystal clear that Modern day Warfare II will not be limited to the standard five seasons, breaking the norm for the franchise in 2023.

As enthusiasts eagerly await the Year 5 Reloaded update, which guarantees to carry new weapons, modes, maps, and Operators to equally Multiplayer and Warzone, Most are still left pondering what to expect from Period 6 of recent Warfare II. While specific particulars about Season six are still beneath wraps, It truly is anticipated to deliver a prosperity of written content that could seamlessly direct into the release of Modern Warfare III.

One can speculate that Time six will attribute a major in-recreation event, location the stage for your extremely expected Present day Warfare III inside a spectacular fashion.

As for this 12 months's COD installment, it promises various surprises, such as the Carry Ahead element, the return of vintage benefits, and familiar motion mechanics. Sledgehammer Video games is the primary developer for this calendar year's FPS entry, with help from renowned studios like Infinity Ward and High Moon Studios.

Simply call of Duty: Modern-day Warfare II is available on various platforms, like PS5, PS4, Xbox Collection X/S, Xbox One particular, and PC.

Check more info. here: Mw3 campaign

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓

Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

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

I was only going to post these when I finished writing and everything but I'm just... SO FUCKING EXCITED 😭😭

spoiler: Johnny and Kyle are the ones managing Price's account (took covert pics of the captain) but they ask Ghost how to answer the questions and DMs in order to have "the right tone of voice" LMAO

I'll post the actual drabbles soon!!! 🙏

If you'd like to be tagged when this comes out, lmk! (via dm, question or even here) THE TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED, not accepting any more requests! (I'm sorry, there's just too many people on it)

[Read the FIC]

[reds-skull]

Needed to see this man beaten and bruised, but in pink this time

(Also hey I actually have free time again)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

baking a pie/cookies/sweet pastries for the boys!!! maybe even extra decorated or heart shaped!!! or wonky failures!!!

52 / 246 words / what i thought of lol

...

"Baked an absolute dogshit cake."

You rant and rave, bustling around with paper plates. Behind you, Ghost and Price stand where you've told them and wait to be served.

"Just completely fucked up. I can't believe I forgot the--" You turn around and see Ghost with his pointer finger conspicuously in his mouth, staring straight ahead into the middle distance. Price clears his throat. Then you notice the obvious smear right through the cake's lumpy frosting.

"Simon."

"Mm." Mumbled around finger still in mouth.

"Did you even see what I wrote on it?"

"Hm." He runs his tongue along the front of his teeth and cleans his hands matter-of-factly with a napkin. It does not help him save face. "Course I did."

"It's crooked. And I forgot to add butter. Do you even care? Did you even notice?"

"Course I didn't." He lifts the two plates and forks out of your hands, kisses your frown, and sets to work cutting himself an enormous slice. Price doesn't even bother with a knife, just scoops in with a spoon.

You grumble. But yeah, they probably couldn't give two shits about how it looks. They're guys, right? Don't they rarely notice that stuff? "I guess that's for the best--"

"You misspelled 'Task Force,' though," Price observes. He gestures down at what's left of the message--don't die --- 141, with a crooked smiley face at the end--written in frosting with the misspelled portion now smudged. "Not a word on the whole cake more than five letters and you almost got 'em all right. Impressive."

"Thanks a lot."

...

more Ghost / masterlist

[cod-dump]

Ghost knowingly buys a haunted house because he needed a place to live and by this point he didn't care if it was haunted. But, instead of harassing him or making living there hell, the spirit actually is very helpful. It does the dishes, helps find things that Ghost had misplaced, is far better than any guard dog that Ghost has ever owned, and is a decent companion. Though there was a messy incident involving the dishwasher overflowing with suds, which led to the affectionate name Ghost gave the spirit.

Soap.

[konigsblog]

Yandere!König Alphabet.

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, YANDERE, KIDNAPPING, FORCED IMPREGNATION (AFAB!READER), FORCED AFFECTION, NONCONSENSUAL TOUCHING, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. STRICTLY 18+ ONLY

AFFECTION: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

König will force his affection and adoration onto you, whether you like it or not. He doesn't care for the way you sob out and wail, or how you wriggle and attempt to free yourself from his painfully tight grasp. To König, you're everything, the love of his life. He won't hesitate to beat some sense into you if you continue to misbehave.

BLOOD: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As a soldier, König is willing to get pretty messy with his darling. He fantasises about carving his name into your skin, to mark and scar you. So that no matter what happens, you'll always have a memory of him.

He wants people to know that you belong to him, are his beloved, his captive, and his one true love.

CRUELTY: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

König tries to be gentle when it comes to you. He understands that you're probably in hysterics, distraught that you've been abducted. He tries to put himself in your position, imagine what it would be like to be kidnapped and forced away from society, isolated inside of a stranger's dirty basement.

König's ‘love’ is nothing but sick and perverse. It's illegal and immoral, a violent and cruel act to keep you to himself. He's trying to protect you, and that's all that matters. Not how uncomfortable and terrified you are, but how safe you'll be with König by your side.

DARLING: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

A lot. From allowing you to leave the house, to rape and forced impregnation. König knows exactly what he wants from you, and that's what's between your legs. He denies you access to society and keeps you locked away downstairs in the chamber.

Against a 6’10”, 250LB+ male, you're weak. It's pathetic to see you fight back. König pities you for how desperate you are to escape. It tugs at his heartstrings, but he's trying to show you how far he'll go for your babies, to start a family with you. Can't you see how badly he wants you? How he needs you?

EXPOSED: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

König can become pretty vulnerable with you. He's not afraid to use his emotions to get whatever he wants. He's scarily skilled at manipulation and guilt tripping. When you squirm away from him in an attempt to hide yourself, he'll begin to scream at you. When you refuse his love, he begins to weep, his fingernails leaving indents along your skin from his grasp as he cries into your chest and wails about how heartless and callous you are.

FIGHT: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He's surprised, honestly. König didn't think you'd ever attempt to fight back against him, especially when you take into consideration his size and strength, how he isn't afraid to do the most vile, traumatising, and disturbing acts to you.

At first, he's furious. Not because he's physically hurt, but because of how you've betrayed him. How many times does he have to go over the rules before you listen? How many times do you need to be beaten and raped before you obey? Give in, Maus. He knows you're exhausted.

GAME: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

To König, this isn't a game. He's pretty serious and expects nothing but obedience from his beloved. Although, he can make it a game if that's what you need. But, it won't be enjoyable – not for you, at least.

He'll drug you up, to then interrogate you and spank you for every incorrect response. You don't know any better, but that's what makes it amusing.

HELL: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being impregnated by that bastard would have to be the most traumatising and memorable experience you've had with König. You didn't expect it. Usually, he'd wear a condom, or pull out at the very last minute. But, not this time.

König made sure you knew exactly what he was going to do. He drugged you up and left you feeling almost lifeless, practically unconscious on the cold, filthy concrete ground. You could feel the familiar splitting sensation between your numb legs that would always bring tears to your glistening eyes. You could shake and tremble, gargle and mumble a string of incoherent pleas to König, but it was fruitless.

He wouldn't stop, not until he was positive that you'd be pregnant with his offspring. God, your reaction was painful yet entertaining to watch, how you plead with him for mercy, falling to your knees at the shock.

IDEALS: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A future where you're his pretty little housewife, pregnant with a pair of twins after already having three kids together. Truthfully, that's all he desires in life. Kids with his captive, who's been conditioned to believe that this is a life you want.

JEALOUSY: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Absolutely. Jealousy is König's #1 issue. Before he abducted you, he'd stalked you. Seeing you hang out with your friends enraged him. He couldn't stand how you were so independent, how you had free will. König couldn't bear the way men would admire you from afar, how they'd grope you.

König doesn't find a healthy coping mechanism. The way he copes is by making ‘love’ to you and forcing you to say you love him, even if it isn't true.

KISSES: How do they act around or with their darling?

Possessive. Creepy. Touchy. He can't keep his hands off of you, or his mouth, or his cock outside of your holes. He's desperate to be inside of you, soothed by the familiar and comforting warmth of your slick cunt around his shaft. He has wet dreams about you choosing to make love with him. The thought of you initiating something with him drives him utterly crazy. He just prays that one day, you'll fall head over heels with him and offer your body to him as a gift.

LOVE LETTERS: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

König stalked you before he selfishly took you for himself. He watched your every move, with cameras and following you everywhere. He'd occasionally leave hints, like love letters, which you brushed off as a prank. Looking back on it, you wished you'd taken them to the police.

MASK: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

König doesn't show his vulnerable side to anyone but you. Not his mother, or his oma. They've never seen a violent, merciless, and ruthless side of him that you have. His soldiers have seen him end other's lives, but they've never witnessed the inhumane acts of torture like you have.

His true colours are that he's a crazy, ill bastard. He can act kind-hearted and forgiving, or murderous and vindictive.

NAUGHTY: How would they punish their darling?

Rape, beating, sensory overstimulation, deprivation, etc. He isn't afraid to see blood drip from you, or cover you in welts and aches. Only after his rage and frustration does he feel guilty and shameful for what he'd done.

You grow numb to it eventually. You grow used to the feeling of his broad, muscular hips smacking and battering into your rear for hours on end. Or the splitting and agonising sensation of his belt across your lower back and behind.

OPPRESSION: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Everything. From your right to freedom, to your right to speak. You don't get a choice, really. Since you're living under König's roof, you'll live by his rules. Whatever he says goes. Oh, you want to go outside? Who gave you the right to speak? If König isn't feeling kind, he'll restrict you from talking, unless you're spoken to first.

PATIENCE: How patient are they with their darling?

Although he loses his cool way more than he'd like to admit, he's extremely patient with you. König knows you're heartbroken and traumatised. He knows you refuse to accept your fate. So, he waits. He waits for you to develop stockholm syndrome and give in to his kisses and love. He'll dote on you, obsess and gush over how adorable you'd look stuffed full with his meaty, sweaty cock and pregnant with his children, until you finally agree and spread those pretty, bruised, and scarred thighs for him.

QUIT: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

König managed a large chunk of his life without you, but now that he has you, he can't imagine a life without you.

If you were to escape, he'd never stop looking. It's inevitable for poor ol’ you... You only exist to serve him. This is your purpose, to breed with König.

If you were to pass away, König wouldn't be able to go on anymore. The heartbreak would either take him, or he'd do it himself. You'll never escape him, Maus.

REGRET: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Of course, guilt is what comes with abducting someone. He feels disgusted with himself for depriving you of the sunlight, of hearing your loved one's voices. But, at the end of the day, he wouldn't change it for anything. Your misery is temporary, while a life with König is permanent.

STIGMA: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

König grew up feeling isolated. He grew up as a loner, a social reject, an outcast. To most, he was nothing but a freakish loser, too large and intimidating to be loved. Only a poor, cursed mother could love König unconditionally. König couldn't imagine a life full of loneliness. He needed someone.

König was never properly romantically loved, so he doesn't know what love is supposed to be. He's delusional – he knows it's illegal, but he doesn't understand why he can't have you like this.

Being in the Military only worsened his anxieties. He knew how dangerous and violent this world could become, and after laying his eyes on you, he knew what he had to do.

TEARS: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

A part of König absolutely hates it. He can't stand seeing you in such agony and pain. He hates the sound of your pained screams, how you wail out and sob, pushing König away and neglecting yourself.

On the other hand, König is aroused by the sight of your tears. It makes him feel like a bully. He sees himself in you, looking down on you, a sick grin on his face. König found himself in your position often, and now, he felt as if he had control and authority.

He hates the thought of you crying, but it gives him power and control over you.

UNIQUE: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Not really. König is just as obsessive, protective, and perverted as most yanderes.

VICE: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

König's emotions. He's easy to convince, honestly. Oh, you want to sit upstairs and listen to music? Alright, I guess, under his supervision. You want to look outside? ... Well, if you really want to.

Sometimes, he struggles saying no to you. It may give you a chance at freedom when König allows you outside for a minute.

WIT’S END: Would they ever hurt their darling?

To the point where the damage is permanent? No. Or at least not physically. The trauma is 100% permanent, that's for a fact.

König won't hesitate to put you in your place with a classic spanking, or emotionally hurt you. It drains him to do so, but it has to be done. He'll slap your face when you attempt to speak back, or pull your arm behind your back so that you're defenceless against him. He doesn't appreciate being slapped, Liebling. You know better...

XOANON: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Anything for his beloved. He will worship the ground you walk on, shower you in kisses, compliments, and gifts just to earn himself a small smile.

YEARN: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

For years before he finally abducts you. He can't resist you any longer, or control his sick urges for control and ownership. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you belonged to him.

ZENITH: Would they ever break their darling?

Mentally? Absolutely. You'll develop stockholm syndrome and will grow comforted by this cruel treatment. You won't be able to remember a life without König. You'll cling to him for love until you're sobbing and begging to be held for hours until you're falling asleep in his arms, accepting your fate.

[deathblossomm]

neil posted a new story in his instagram

[toxooz]

🍔 borgir 🍔

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

JADE Origin Story - a Call of Duty OC Short Comic (PART 1)

Warning : violence, blood and gore.

This comic was made for my final assignment for a comics class I attend for college. Since the theme is free, I decided to make a comic about Jade! It's not an origin story per se 💀 It's basically a showcase of my technical skills in drawing, paneling, and comic-making in general. With the time I had I only managed to finish 12 pages, but I'm proud of every single page! It features the story of when Jade was still in MI6 and a glimpse of what she did as a black agent; how she got things done back then and what her motivation was.

Have a look and hope you love it! 🥰🌹

PART II

[tanked-up]

Price and Makarov going through all the shit that happened on MW3

They both look so done

[witchthewriter]

𝑻𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘/ 𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒐𝒂𝒑

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓

Summary:

While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Pairing:

141 x Reader

poly!141 x Reader

The Beginning:

Teaser

Legend:

Red - Johnny

Orange - Kyle

Blue - John

Purple - Simon

Green - All of them

Chapters:

Prequel

1 - Kyle

2 - Johnny

3 - Simon

4 - John?

5 - GETTING LAID?

6 - John.

7 - Getting Laid!! 😈🌶️

8 - Awooga?

9 - Drinks?

10 - SIMON?!

11 - Excuse me?

12 - A date?

13 - Yes, and?

14 - (B)romance?

15 - Mo leannan

16 - Teeth.

17 - Guard dogs.

18 - Picnic.

19 - Slippery Slope. 😈🌶️

20 - Control 😈🌶️

21 - I BEG YOUR PARDON?

22 - What is it about you?

22.5 - Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, Tel Aviv. 😈🌶️(mini chapter)

23 - Kiss and Tell?

24 - Pokémon

25 - Soap..................?

26 - Smart mouth 😈🌶️

Pre-27 - Away (mini chapter)

27 - Peace and Quiet

28 - How in the-

29 - Taking Turns

30 - Playing House.

31 - Uh-Oh.

32 - No Harm Done.

33 - Do You Think?

More chapters - COMING SOON!

Click here to see some fanart of "it's a match" chapter 14 "(B)romance)?" by my lovely moot @xxshadowbabexx.

[ MY MASTERLIST ]

[FIND MY FICS ON AO3]

THE TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED, not accepting any more requests! (I'm sorry, there's just too many people on it)

taglist below the cut

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[reds-skull]

Was doing some anatomy studies earlier and figured I could practice on the 141

(not the most efficient way to do it since I struggled with Soap's face for like a quarter of it...)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

53 / 2.7k / Alejandro being a man who knows his own sex appeal (with medic reader)

kinktober keywords: medical kink, healslutting, healing sex (so-called)

...

"Excuse me?"

Alejandro pauses at the door, looking back at you blankly for a moment before repeating himself. "You're with me," he says again, slower this time as if to make sure you've heard him. "We have things to discuss in the medbay."

Typical.

You follow him with your arms stiffly crossed.

He leads you to the medbay in relative silence, pushes open the door once you arrive, and gestures for you to walk inside first.

"Sit."

You don't. "What is there to discuss?"

His voice rasps with irritation. He tries to soften it when he speaks again. "Just sit. I'm not asking again." He nods at the table. "I'm suffering too much tension. You already know how I want to relieve it.”

You stare him down for another long moment. Then you yield--just a little--and push yourself up to sit on the edge of the examination table. "Not advisable with your injuries."

"I'm fine," he says. His gaze drifts to your legs, where your skirt has exposed several tantalizing inches of skin. "I prefer your brand of medicine."

nsfw ⬇

"I know you don't care about your injuries, Colonel, but I do."

"I know. It's your job to care. That's why I'm here. And who better to give me release than you?" He lets his fingers graze your knee and lifts them up along your inner thigh. "I need your help. You're going to be a dutiful doctora for me, aren't you?"

Your heart rises into your throat. That tone of voice. You swallow to ground yourself. How can you keep letting him do this to you? How are you still this weak? You shift, wanting to squeeze your thighs together. But Alejandro steps closer, standing between them.

He runs his hand up your leg, stopping just before his fingers brush the edge of your skirt. "You need to help your commanding officer, don't you?"

"You're hardly my commanding officer.

"Semantics," he purrs. His other palm goes to your inner knee, coaxing your legs to spread apart some more. "You're my medic, are you not?

Pulling rank on you? Does he really want to play that game? "I'm not your anything.”

"You think you're the one who's really in charge here?"

"It's not about who's in charge."

"Oh?" He almost finds your snark amusing. Almost.

"You're injured," you snap.

That makes him laugh. "That's what makes you the perfect one for the job," he tells you, letting his hands drift further up your legs. "You can't walk away from a poor soldier telling you he needs your help, can you? Even if he's being a bad patient. Not that you'd ever bring it up to your superiors. Or mine."

"No, I wouldn't. But I'm not going to help you risk popping your stitches just because you want to get your dick wet."

"Always so blunt, doctora. Always so crass. But I have faith you won't let that happen." His hands on your legs press you back on the table until you're leaning on your hands to support yourself.

He pulls the crux of your legs flush against him. The position forces you to either lean back and spread your legs to ease your weight off him or to let him pull your full weight onto his thigh and straddle it. You swallow, eyes darting down to the way your skirt is riding up. You swore you wouldn't do this again. You leave the base with your team tomorrow. You’ve already gone too far with him too many times. "Alejandro..."

"Mm," he rumbles in response to the way you say his name. He grinds his thigh up against you just to see you clench around his leg.

God damn him. There's nothing worse than a man who knows his own sex appeal.

You grab his collar, pull him forward, and close your lips around his pulse point.

He leans into your touch and braces his hand on the table next to your hip, enjoying the way your teeth graze against his skin. His hands find your hips and pull you flush against him. "That's it," he mutters. "This is what I need. Give it to me."

You push off the table and round on him to shove him against it instead. "Get on your back. You're not in any shape to top."

"So demanding." But he takes a seat on the edge of the table. "I suppose if my doctor says I'm not in any shape to top, I'll listen to her."

"For once."

"For you," he murmurs. He falls back on the table and props himself up on his elbows. He lets his legs part. His eyes drag over your body, wanting to see you naked again. "Show me how you take care of a wounded soldier."

But you don't bother stripping your clothes off--just skim your underwear down your legs and climb up onto the table to hover over him. Your eye falls to the stitches disappearing down the neckline of his shirt and running down his right pectoral. You instinctively check it for inflammation or discoloration, but it's clean. Just fresh and tender.

He watches you go through the motions of checking his stitches. He knows that you wouldn't be coming onto him if you didn't think he could do this. But it’s still irritating how focused you are on the state of his injury rather than letting yourself get carried away with his body in other ways. You leave tomorrow. There might not be a next time.

“You always so thorough, doctora?” he asks, a bit of an edge to his voice. “Or are you just stalling?”

"I'm exactly as thorough as I should be," you snap, grabbing the button and zipper of his pants and undoing them with quick, rough movements. "Regardless of what other rules you have me break."

His eyes darken as you take the initiative, but he can’t deny that he likes watching you get demanding. He lifts his hips to let you tug his pants partway down his thighs.

“You break the rules for me and I'll make sure no one can touch you for it.” His hand snakes up to your hip. “You want this? Go ahead. Take it.”

You let yourself sink down on him and hold in a breath as he fills you. You fight to keep your wits about you and you don't quite succeed.

He lets out a low, guttural moan. One hand grips the edge of the table as if he’s trying to hold onto control of himself, but then he gives up and lets his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. "That's it,” he hisses, letting his head fall back against the table. “So warm.” He rocks his hips upward, pulling you down at the same time as if he can somehow get you any closer than you are.

You flush as he pulls you forward and runs his tongue up the side of your neck. But when he starts to pump his hips against you in earnest, you push yourself up and force him to lay flat on the table again. "I told you to lay here. Don't move or you'll pop your stitches and we'll have to stop."

"Don't threaten me, doctora," he growls. But his hands fall away from your hips. He lays them flat on the table to show that he's not going to move them. "You both know you couldn't stop him if he wanted to take charge.

Still, he does like the way you're sitting on top of him. he'd just like to do something about the fact that you're still fully clothed. "Lose the shirt," he orders.

"No."

His jaw clenches. "Don't push me. You make me lie here at your mercy, and I'm not used to being controlled like that.”

He knows perfectly well that he can't command you to do a single thing. You, as his doctor, are the one calling the shots here. And despite the fact that being ordered around in his own base annoys him more than anything, you're still breaking the rules to ride his cock.

And you're slipping past the point of no return.

You pump up and down slowly, fighting to keep your breath even. You tell yourself this isn't for you, it's for him. As demanding as he is, as much of an ass he can be, this behavior is an expression of frustration. Of need.

But you make the mistake of looking down at him, and your hips stutter at the heat in his eyes.

He watches you with a need you rarely see in a man.

“Dios, doctora," he mutters. He wants you. Needs you. He runs his hands up your thighs, but he doesn’t try to take over. He lets you keep the control. For the time being, you’re the one calling all the shots. But that doesn't mean he'll be nice. "Faster," he mutters, gritting his teeth. “You can do better than that.”

He watches you as you begin to move faster, your breath coming in pants. He keeps his hands on your legs, but otherwise doesn't move. He lets you do the work--lets you take what you want from him. At least until your muscles begin to clench around him.

You bounce faster. You're still convinced you're keeping your head on straight when you jolt and gasp in a sudden fit of pleasure. An orgasm washes over you. You didn't expect it--didn't mean to do it.

A hoarse sound escapes his throat at the sudden tightening. “Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You feel so good." The way you jerk in pleasure forces a rough exhale from him. His grip on your hips gets tighter as he fights to keep his hands there, wanting to grab you and push you down in the heat of the moment but restraining himself. “I knew you’d be good to me. You give in just as good as you put out.”

You pant wordlessly. You still for a moment, shuddering in the pleasurable aftershocks. But then a clatter in the next room reminds you there's no time to waste. You get to moving your hips again, sluggish but dogged, to give the colonel the release he needs.

"That's it. Just keep going," he says. His voice is thick with desire, his body tensing as he approaches his own peak. "No te pares," he gasps. "Please, don't stop. Just keep going. I'm close." He's not used to begging, but he can admit to himself that he needs this, and he needs you.

You do as he says, slamming your hips down onto his over and over to jar him loose. The pace is brutal and that’s how he needs it. This is his medicine. He lets out a string of unintelligible Spanish at your pace, his hands squeezing your hips as the fire in his lower abdomen burns hot. He grits his teeth and locks his eyes on yours.

“Madre del Dios, you’re going to kill me,” he mutters. “You’re going to have me bleeding all over again.”

"Don't you dare," you growl. You keep a sharp eye on his stitches to watch for signs of strain.

Alejandro is too far gone to notice. “Or what, doctora?” he asks. He reaches up and hooks two fingers into the neckline of your shirt. The weight of his arm alone threatens to pop the button wide open. “Are you going to punish me?”

You grit your teeth and let him open up your uniform top to see your body as you bounce. You even help him along with undoing the buttons. To shut him up, you tell yourself.

He falls silent. His eyes fix on your chest, on every square inch of skin. "Oh, you are beautiful." He's rapt at the way your body moves. "Teasing me like that. Teasing a wounded man."

Wounded, your ass.

You keep it up, knowing he's close. But before you can stop him, he pulls you against him again, teeth at your chest, pulling a cry of protest out of you at the sharp pain. His hips buck hard. You struggle a little, but you let him pull you close, letting him nip and bite at your skin. He wants to mark you as his, even if you’re only his to own for the moment.

���Take it,” he growls, his voice rough.

"Alejandro-!"

He lets out a guttural, feral moan as his climax washes over him. 

He rocks your hips together slowly, riding the waves of his release. He doesn’t let go of you, even though it’s over. You shiver, unable to do anything but let him move your hips for you. He just needs this a bit longer.

Finally, he releases you and lets his head fall back against the table. His eyes flutter closed. His teeth leave indents in your skin. Nothing major, but there will be marks all over you that will be there for a while. Proof of what you've done here with him.

“You wear me out.”

"Good. You need more rest," you mutter, easing off him.

He lets out a huff of almost-laughter. He lets you sit back on the table next to him and swipes a sweat-damp lock of hair out of his face.

“I have to admit… you’ve got an interesting bedside manner,“ he says.

"And you are the worst patient I've had the displeasure of encountering on this base. That's a high fucking bar, too."

“I never liked to stay still for the doctor.” He props himself up on the table on his elbows and looks over at you. “You’ll have worse patients in the States, surely.”

You stand up gingerly, testing your shaky legs before you walk. "You need to watch yourself. No drills. No resistance training. Only physical therapy. You got that? If you tear your stitches again, there will be hell to pay."

“I can handle it,” he insists, a note of irritation creeping into his voice now that you’ve turned the topic to his injury again. “I won’t tear any stitches, I’ve done this before. I’m plenty tough. I can handle a drill or two.”

You round on him and jab your finger into his chest. "No. No drills or else. I'll ban you from training altogether if I have to."

"You’ll ban me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Try it. I'd like to see you try to keep me in bed with your panties on."

"It won't be me. It'll be Rodolpho. He's just as worried about you."

That gets him. He knows damn well that every other Vaquero wants him to heal up. "Fine. No drills. But only because I don't want to spend the next few weeks with those pendejos lecturing me. They're a bigger pain in the ass than you are."

You scoff and turn away. "You were singing a very different song a minute ago."

"And then you start going all doctor on me.”

"Yeah, well. You've clearly demonstrated you're capable of taking orders when it suits you. You're just choosing not to."

The corner of his lips curve in a smug little smirk. “I take orders I'm willing to follow,” he says. “I don’t do well with people telling me what to do. You just have a way of making me forget that.”

Of course. He'll let you get away with ordering him around when he feels like it. And when he's not in the mood, it's a hell of a time getting him to listen to you. Typical.

"Do whatever you want, then," you tell him, buttoning up your uniform. "But don't come crying to the next medic when you bust a stitch. If you're so self-reliant, if you know everything, then you fix yourself."

"Oh, I will, doctora." He lets out a little huff as you leave the room, rolling his eyes. Of course you’d get pissed at him, just like that. He doesn’t bother to call you back and apologize. He’s not the sorry type. Not even if this is the last time he sees you go and it's you going off in a huff.

As a matter of principle, he won't give you the satisfaction of crawling back.

But you’ll still come around. You always do.

...

more Alejandro / masterlist

[inactivegaz]

i’m scared to see the ending, why are we pretending this is nothing?

[mesu-senshi]

Title: “Be Still, My Giant Heart” part 1

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Pairing: Konig x Reader

Theme: Comedy, Romance, Fluff

Trope: Arranged Marriage

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König wasn’t sure how he’d gotten himself into this situation.

It started with his mother calling him during a rare moment of peace. “Schatz,” she’d said with all the sweetness of a baker dusting sugar on fresh strudel, “it’s time you settled down.”

Fast forward a few weeks, and here he was, standing in his sparse quarters at the base, waiting for his soon-to-be-wife to arrive. A stranger. An arranged marriage. He had a knot in his stomach the size of a grenade.

When the door opened, König had to crouch, his towering figure casting a shadow over the entrance.

And there you were. Tiny, warm-eyed, and smiling up at him like he wasn’t a giant of a man capable of taking down an enemy in three moves. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t so much as blink. Instead, you stepped closer, craning your neck to meet his gaze.

“Hallo!” you chirped, your accent like music to his ears. “You must be König. I’m so happy to finally meet you!”

He blinked. Twice. Words jammed in his throat like a traffic pile-up. “Ja, h-hallo,” he managed, his voice a low rumble.

Your smile only grew brighter, which, he realized with a pang of terror, made his heart stutter.

______________________________________________________________

Living with you, he quickly learned, was like trying to balance on a knife’s edge. Not because you were difficult, but because he was terrified. Terrified of saying the wrong thing, of breaking something (you), of waking up to find you’d realized how mismatched the two of you were and decided to leave.

But you? You settled into his space like you belonged there. Your wavy hair swayed as you walked around the shared quarters, your hums filling the silence like the promise of spring. You left sticky notes on his fridge—“Have a good day!” and “Drink water, you giant mountain!”

And the affection. Oh, the affection. He’d never known anyone to touch him so casually. A pat on his arm as you passed. A playful poke to his side (he almost jumped out of his skin). The way your hand lingered on his forearm when you’d laugh at his dry humor.

“Do you like it?” you asked one evening, holding up a plate of schnitzel you’d made for dinner.

He nodded, taking a bite, his voice coming out quieter than he meant. “Sehr gut.”

“Gott sei Dank,” you teased, winking. “I was worried I’d have to bribe you with dessert.”

The flush started at his neck and climbed like a wildfire.

______________________________________________________________

The breaking point came two weeks in.

You’d decided to surprise him by baking something “just like your Mutter probably makes.” He walked in on you standing on your tiptoes, trying in vain to reach the top cabinet.

“Ach, here,” he said, his voice gentler than he thought possible, easily grabbing the jar you’d been reaching for.

You turned to him, wide-eyed and soft. “Thank you, König.”

And then you did something dangerous.

You stretched up and kissed his cheek.

He froze. His face felt like it had been doused in lava. The kiss was innocent, sweet, but it packed a punch that nearly knocked him over.

“Y-You don’t mind?” he stammered. “Me being here. This arrangement…”

“Mind?” you repeated, tilting your head like he’d asked if the sky was blue. “König, you’re amazing.”

He blinked down at you. “You… think so?”

Your laughter filled the room. “You’re a gentle giant. You’re sweet, thoughtful, and…” You paused, letting your eyes rake over him in a way that made him swallow hard. “...very, very attractive.”

If he wasn’t beet red before, he was now.

“Besides,” you added, reaching for his hand—tiny in his massive one—“I like being near you. You make me feel safe.”

Safe. The word echoed in his mind. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve you, but for the first time in weeks, his anxiety melted into something softer, warmer.

Maybe, just maybe, this arrangement wasn’t a mistake after all.

______________________________________________________________

Later that Night

König, lying stiff as a board in bed, replaying the moment you called him “attractive.”

You, snuggled into your pillow, dreaming sweetly of your gentle giant.

Neither of you realized how quickly the trial before marriage was turning into something real.