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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 8 months ago

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(cw: age gap 25/41; nsfw, mdni 18+, playing catch, smut, buttstuff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

the part before: lazy evenings - also check out the "spending time with mh!k" parts which kind of happen in between <3

Going for a walk

...has become one of our usual weekend activities. At least to get ourselves out of the house for a little while, get some fresh air and not coop up inside the whole time. The little patches of forest right outside his house are perfect for that.

I put on my fluffy socks, which are pink in contrast to the all black clothes I’m wearing. König looks at them and bites back a laugh.

“What? My feet get cold easily.”, I tell him, defensively.

“Oh, I know.”, he says. “I’ve had the pleasure of warming those Eiszapfen before.” (icicles)

We put our shoes on, also getting some jackets, because there is a gentle breeze blowing today, and head out the patio door. My DocMartens right beside his combat boots, and the contrast between them makes me grin inwardly. I push my hand into his, tugging on his arm, so we start walking.

The sun is fighting its way through the clouds, the sky overcast and gloomy. It had been raining the whole night, so the path into the little patches of forest is muddy, fresh rainwater puddles sitting on the forest ground. I accidentally step into one of them, mud splashing in all directions.

“Careful, you'll get those nice shoes dirty.”, he quips, looking down at them.

“They're here to get dirty, silly.”, I clap back.

He pulls up his eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure you knew that.”

I shoot him a look. “Shut up, they’re just new.”, I explain, looking down at his worn-out dirty boots that surely have seen better days. “At least mine have been made in this century.”, I jab at him, trying to hide my grin.

“Yeah, yeah.”, he grumbles, but he also pulls me closer, lifting my hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss onto the knuckles.

The last time we went for a walk out here, I tried to climb him like a tree because my intrusive thoughts won. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna be high up? I still remember how it felt to sit on his shoulders when we were at the concert, so I just couldn't resist.

“Hold still.”

“What are you doing?”

“I said, hold still.”

“Wos wird des, wonn’s fertig is?“

“I don’t speak your language, funny big man. Just stay still, so I can climb you like a tree.”

“Like a- a tree?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, you can climb me any day, Kleine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you actually trying to climb me like a tree?”

“Yes, now hold still.”

He sighed, a laughter shaking his chest as I lifted my weight up by his shoulders, stepping on his thigh to move further up.

“That tickles.”, he grumbled when my fingers buried into his back muscles.

He finally just lifted me up, so I could sit on his shoulders which was as fun as I remembered it from the concert, but turned out to be a safety hazard because of all the tree branches higher up.

This time I’m not trying anything like that, also it would be quite daring to put my muddy shoes onto him. I mean, I’m more than sure that he can handle a little dirt, but still.

I’m taking two steps for his one, the pace making me pant. I pick up speed, taking bigger steps to keep up, but in turn he does the same until we’re both doing lunges across the forest ground, laughing like stupid.

I shake my head and slip out of his hold, darting away from him before turning around to look back at him, grinning in his direction.

“Whatcha doing now?”, he asks, a little edge in his voice.

“Can't catch me!”, I tell him, sticking out my tongue before I run towards a tree, hiding behind it.

I see his face light up in a grin, taking a few steps into my direction, and I can't suppress the little giggle that rises up my throat as I see him stalking towards me, calm and collected, no rush in his strides.

A little flurry of excitement rushes up my spine when he comes closer and I stumble a few steps back, my eyes not leaving his. He's looking at me, from under his eyebrows, the grin on his face turning into smirk, his strides getting bigger, the sounds of leaves and breaking branches under the soles of his boots, the squelching of mud accompanying every one of our steps.

I run a little bit further into the woods and I can hear him following me. Like Red Riding Hood running from the Big Bad Wolf...

Fuck, this was just meant to be a little fun game of catch, but the implications the situation has… it's getting me worked up, just thinking about it, how it would be like if I actually ran from him, tried to escape from him, until he catches me, certainly not a challenge for the big guy, and has his way with me.

I can feel the pang of need between my legs, a gush of wind making me shiver – or was it my dirty thoughts?

My panting drowns out the rest of the sounds and when I go to hide behind the next tree, a wide one, I don't hear him come round the other side and I almost collide with his chest. A little yelp escapes me before I giggle again, turning around and running the other way, but his arms are too long and he just grabs me, his hands closing around my waist.

“Gotchu, Kleine.”, he whispers into my ear as he pulls me against his chest, engulfing me with his arms and his warm scent. I still giggle while I wiggle in his hold, playfully trying to escape again, but I'm not going anywhere.

“Okay you win.”, I say then, jokingly pouting a little bit.

He turns me around, laughs while he lifts me up, up over his head, way too high up, until we're almost imitating that famous scene from Dirty Dancing which has me yelp and laugh. "König!"

He lowers me down again until I rest against his chest, my hands holding onto his shoulders, my legs closing around his hips, and he leans in to give me kiss. “Now... What's my reward for catching you?”, he asks, a spark of mischief in his eyes, not being serious at all.

But I'm also very willing to take our playful spat in that direction. And there is something that has been in the back of my mind, the last few times we had sex, something that I wanted to try, even though I'm not entirely sure he'll fit.

“You know what we talked about? Doing something different?”, I start, a little smirk stalking onto my lips.

He perks up. “You mean...” He lifts his eyebrows.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“I remember, yes. You want to try today?”, he wants to know.

I nod again. “Yes.”

A slight shiver shakes him, pulling me closer to him. “Are you sure?”, he asks again.

“Yes, König, I'm totally sure.”, I say, trying not to roll my eyes while a big grin forms on my face. It's endearing honestly how he always makes double sure of everything. I just told him that I want to try anal with him – which is a challenge considering his... size – and he is nothing but sweet about it.

“No need to get sassy.”, he chuckles against my lips, but he doesn’t get a move on. He kisses me again and I can feel the frenzy and hunger in it, even before he deepens it.

I’m trying not to squirm in his hold and failing miserably at it, grinding my hips into him which pulls a soft grunt from his lips.

“Then what are we waiting for?”, I whisper, looking up into his eyes.

A hint of surprise lights up his face, but it gives way to a simmering heat. “Your wish is my command, Prinzesserl.”, he drawls, repositioning me in his arms, taking long strides back to his house. Not hurry, but calm determination making his steps even bigger than they normally would be. He’s not even breathing harder as he almost runs, carrying me, which… I knew he was in good shape, but this is just ridiculous.

When we reach the patio, I slip out of his hold and enter the house. I quickly kick off my shoes, just letting them fall onto the floor which makes him shake his head and tut as he closes the back door behind him.

“We can get them later.”, I say, shrugging off my jacket as well, impatiently getting rid of the clothing.

He’s mumbling something under his breath, picking my boots up and quickly putting them and his own away while I run up the stairs. He can’t leave anything dirty, not even for a moment, and I sigh with a bashful smile. I should have known better, the big man and his love for keeping everything cleanly.

He catches up to me a few seconds later, his arm closing around me as he spanks my butt. “You’re lucky you’re this cute.”, he grumbles, hoisting me up. The shoes are quickly forgotten about, my legs closing around his waist again as he carries me to the bed, where he lies me down on the mattress.

He takes his sweet time to prep me, undressing me first before getting rid of his own clothes. Kissing every part of me that is unveiled, his breath coasting over my skin which makes me shiver.

His tongue licking a trail down from my sensitive neck to my nipples, turning to stiff peaks as he softly bites them, sucking, nibbling.

His hands wander further down, brushing over the soft skin of my tummy and hips until his fingertips reach between my legs, finding me shamelessly wet already.

Pushing his thick fingers into my pussy first, getting me even wetter with his languid strokes, before getting up again to fetch the buttplug and lube, two staples that hardly are missing anymore when we have sex, but today they're all the more important.

He's taking some of the slippery liquid, lubing me up and pushing the buttplug in slowly when it fully slips into me and I sigh, getting used to the feeling. He's still playing with my pussy, his thumb doesn't stop drawing circles over my clit until his mouth takes over.

Fuck, I don't think I can ever get enough of that, his lips on the sensitive skin, his hot breath coasting over my wetness, his tongue dipping into me. He knows what gets me going, his touches deliberate, getting me to the edge, softly pushing me over it with his mouth on me. My moans intermingling with the sound of his licks when I come against his mouth.

He's pulling the buttplug out again, pushing his fingers in instead. Just one at first, sliding in easily with how the plug already worked me open, then a second one. He takes more lube, sinking his fingers deeper. His eyes are intently looking at them disappear into my hole, his brows furrowed, but his jaw slack, sucking in small breaths.

He's watching me, my reactions, my small movements, the roll of my hips into his hands. When I breathe out and try to relax again, he slowly adds a third finger, and the stretch is making me gasp, the intensity is making me shake.

With a small shout from my lips, the orgasm hits me unexpectedly. "Coming from just my fingers in your ass? Oh Liebes.", he coos, not stopping to finger-fuck me as I pulse around them.

I pry my eyes open, taking in the soft expression on his face, my chest heaving with deep breaths.

"Fuck, it's so intense.", I say, my fingers brushing over my cheek and lips. "I don't know how you'll fit."

"It will fit, don't worry.", he softly drawls.

When I pull my hands away, he sees the moment of worry and hesitation on my face, the smirk dropping and his hand slipping out.

"We don't have to.", he interjects quickly, crawling over me. "We can stop anytime.

My hand shoots out, cupping his cheek, and he takes it and presses an kiss to the palm. "I want to do it.", I say, looking up at him, feeling the blush creep onto my cheeks. "At least try."

His eyes search mine. "Okay.", he says, pulling me into him.

He turns me around, positioning me on all fours while he kneels behind me. "Like this, you have control over it.", he explains, putting his hands on my hips.

"Okay.", I echo him, taking a deep breath.

He’s getting more lube, spreading it on his length and guiding me back until his tip nudges against my hole.

I gently sink down on his dick, really slow, taking inch by inch. Stopping every so often when it gets too intense. Leaning forward again, easing up, reminding myself to just relax. Relishing the feeling as I’m trying to take all of him.

He brushes my hair to the side, his mouth coasting over my neck, the tickling touches sending shivers over me. "Doing so well, Liebes.", he whispers. "Almost there." His arm closes around me, his hand dropping between my thighs, stroking over my pussy, circling my clit.

I sigh, slumping into his chest, holding onto his thigh, sliding further down until he is fully seated in my ass.

"Good girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, when he captures my lips in a searing kiss, and my hand tangles in his hair.

I start moving back and forth, grinding myself against him, his length sliding out and in again. Just a little bit at a time. He groans, softly rolling his hips to meet mine.

"Fuck.", I whine. My movements are getting sloppy quickly, filled to the brim over and over again. I can feel the tension in my lower belly, breaking the kiss while I try to ride him like this, the swell of my ass pressing up against his groin.

All of a sudden, he pulls himself out of me and I whimper at the loss of fullness. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Need to see your face when you come around my dick.", he breathes.

I turn to the side, so I'm facing him as he places me right on front of him on my back. My knees drop to the side in an instant, and he hums, placing his hands on my thighs, pushing them back to expose me even more.

His eyes drop down and he spits. A dollop of saliva drips onto my pussy, running down to my ass, adding to the wetness and lube.

He's gently pushing in again, and the stretch is making me whine. Fuck, this still is intense. He leans down, his long dark hair falling around us like a curtain. Kissing me, softly nipping the sensitive skin.

"Where's this dick, hm? Tell me.", he whispers while he thrusts languidly, pushing even deeper.

"It's in my ass.", I sigh, the soft sound turning into a moan when his hips meet mine again.

I can feel the smile on his lips against mine. "That's right, and you're taking me so well.", he says.

I whimper, his praise tightening up the intense feeling inside me, and that's before he's picking up tempo, still not fucking me like he usually would. More slow and deep than hard and fast, but with the steady rhythm and how he stretches me out... This is driving me crazy.

Especially when he slips two fingers into my slick pussy, his thumb pressing against my clit as he fills me up to the brim like this.

"Oh fuck.", I curse, my eyes rolling back.

He played with both my holes at the same time before, but this is almost too much this way. His thick digits pump into my wetness, the same time his dick pushes into my ass.

"How does that feel, Liebes?", he wants to know.

"Feels good.", I breathe. And it does, even if I can barely handle the feeling of fullness.

"Yeah? You like that, hm?", he asks.

"Yes.", I moan, my eyes turning up, I can feel the tension pooling in my lower belly again and my thighs are starting to shake. "Fuck, please..." My words turn into moans, unable to finish my plea. Just a little more, I think, desperately needing to come.

And he doesn't stop to fuck me while his other hand is slowly caressing up my body until it gently closes around my throat. A little move that makes me pant even harder, tingles erupting all over my body.

His thumb pushes into my mouth that has fallen open, brushing over my tongue. I hum as I close my lips around his digit, sucking on it which makes him smirk down at me.

He's not moving much, just softly rolling his hips, pushing his dick in and out of my ass. His gaze is on me, and I'm desperately trying to keep my focus on his face, but I feel like I have already lost my mind. All my holes stuffed by him, his dick and his fingers, my mewls getting muffled by his thick thumb.

"You gonna cum for me like a good girl?", he whispers, and I hum again, nodding hastily.

"Yes, yes!", I mumble around his digit, losing myself in his eyes staring up at him.

His hushed words, their soft drawl, being at his mercy like this, catapults me over the edge. I can feel the tension snap, the orgasm is wrecking through me, my back arching, my hands flying out to desperately hold onto him, onto his arm that is strewn over my body.

His thumb slips out of my mouth, his hand capturing my face, I can feel the wetness of my own spit on my cheek as he makes me look at him while I pulse on his dick and fingers. The sounds dropping from my lips are almost obscene.

"Look at me, yes fuck.", he curses, taking everything in, his gaze fixed on mine.

His eyebrows furrow, his eyes pressing together, just for a moment. And he comes inside me while my orgasm is subsiding, the waves of arousal still shaking me. Pressing his lips to mine as choked moans escape his throat.

He pulls out of me, and all I can do is slump into the sheets, totally fucked out. Having your holes stuffed like that really does a number on you. My mind is hazy, and I feel like I'm floating, the tension leaving my taught body with every deep breath I take.

"You okay, Liebes?", he asks, posing the same question he always posed when you first started fucking, and he still comes back to it.

"Oh yeah.", I sigh, pulling him closer again, not willing to let him get up, let alone get up myself. I'm not even sure my legs would carry me. "That was quite... something.", I remark, looking up at him, the slightest blush staining his cheeks, like always after he just came.

He laughs a little, deep and soft, as his body slumps onto mine again and we just lie here for a moment.

"Quite something, huh?", he teases me, his nose nuzzling into the crook of my neck. I push some of his long dark hair back, my fingers brushing through them.

"No thoughts, head empty.", I mumble, snuggling into him. "No energy for big words."

He laughs again, his hand roaming down my body, squeezing my hip ever so slightly as he relaxes into me. And a soft calmness falls over us as we bask in the afterglow, his warmth engulfing me.

After a while of just laying here, he lifts me up with him, carrying me to the bathroom. He's drawing me a bath in the tub we rarely use, letting me soak in the warm water that helps relax my taught muscles, washing away the remnants of the hot and heavy fuck. He even puts on some music before sinking into the water himself, almost flooding the bathroom, and I laugh when "Fairies wear Boots" by Black Sabbath starts playing from the Bluetooth speaker, but he just grins down at me.

Somebody else might have put on something sultry and chill, but not him. Pulling me into his arms, chuckling a bit and then singing along "Fairies wear boots, yeah you gotta believe me…", the words in his deep soothing voice making me smile to myself.

I'm feeling very pampered and I can't complain – I would never complain – sitting on the couch afterwards, a snuggly blanket around my shoulders and a bowl in my hands with some pasta dish he quickly whipped up.

He drops onto the cushion beside me and turns on the TV. We started watching Bojack Horseman, a show I’ve watched before and he hadn't seen yet. Because he almost never watches shows, even though he pays for all the streaming services. I mean, he also has Spotify and listens to CDs and vinyls much more often. Did I mention that he's old?

I turn to look at him, sitting there with double my portion on his plate. He looks back at me with a quizzical stare, munching on some noodles, a sight that makes me giddy, and I can't even really pinpoint why. The big guy so casual always makes my heart sing.

"You think you'd might wanna chase me through the woods some time?", I ask him straight forward while shoving some pasta in my face.

He halts, pulling his eyebrows up. "You'd like me to?", he asks back, dropping the fork into his noodles.

I nod. "Yeah." I can't help a little blush creep into my cheeks. "When we played catch today... I couldn't help but imagine it...", I confess.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, his eyes searching my face to look for answers, his expression unmoving and serious while he pans down my body, the bowl of pasta on my lap.

"With those short legs?", he quips then, looking at them for a moment, a grin breaking through.

I gasp. "Rude!"

He laughs a little before pulling me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead and dropping the banter. "We can try that... Just need to talk about the, uh, logistics some more." He pulls back to look at me. "I want you to feel save.", he says, his thumb caressing over my cheek.

"I always do with you.", I simply answer, giving him a small peck on the lips.

When I break away, I catch something in the corner of his eyes, an emotion I can't quite grasp, but it's gone the next second when he picks up his fork again.

"What?", I ask, unable to let it be.

His mouth forms into a lop-sided smile while he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, but quickly takes my hand in his, squeezing my fingers, meeting my gaze for a moment. And the little gesture puts me at ease. I relax back into the cushions and turn my attention to the flatscreen again, returning to eat my pasta.

I can feel his eyes on me for another moment longer, my shoulder nudging his, and we continue watching the show.

the next part: comforting him or more in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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falleraatje · 5 months ago

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"Wrapping the other Person in the hoodie or jacket they are still wearing so both of them can stay warm" oder "dressing the other up in their own clothes, feeling a tiny bit possessive, but both loving it" für Hörk?

Ausgehend von den tropes aus diesem Post. Ich habe mich hier mal für die erste Variante entschieden: "wrapping the other person in the hoodie or jacket they are still wearing so both of them can stay warm"

"Es dauert schon nicht mehr lange", versichert Leo Adam noch einmal. Er ist sich ziemlich sicher, dass es noch eine ganze Weile dauern wird, bis die verspätete Bahn endlich auftaucht, aber es ist besser, in der Hinsicht ein bisschen zu schwindeln, als Adam noch einmal zu sagen, dass ihm überhaupt nicht kalt ist.

Was das angeht, hätte Adam ihn sofort durchschaut. Leos Finger fühlen sich wie Eiszapfen an und auch seine Arme um sich zu schlingen, hilft kaum gegen das Zittern, das ihn beim nächsten Windstoß durchläuft. Warum muss dieser Bahnsteig auch mitten in einer Windschneise liegen und keinen einzigen Ort haben, wo man sich ein bisschen geschützt hinstellen kann?

Eigentlich friert Leo so gut wie nie. Wenn dann ist er derjenige, der Adam seine Jacke gibt, weil Adam viel schneller anfängt zu frösteln als er. Leo hat immer gehofft, dass nie jemand hinterfragt, warum er die Jacke ständig mitschleppt, wenn er sie doch nie braucht. Aber er mag es eben, wie das rote Innenfutter seiner Jacke sich von der blassen Haut an Adams Hals abhebt und wie Adam darin versinkt, weil die Jacke ihm an den Schultern viel zu weit ist.

Doch heute hat Leo nicht daran gedacht, die Jacke mitzunehmen, weil sie eigentlich geplant hatten, viel früher in die Stadt zurück zu fahren. Dann hätte Leo bestimmt auch keine Probleme mit den Temperaturen bekommen, doch jetzt ist die Nachtluft empfindlich kalt und Leo ist froh, dass Adam diesmal selbst daran gedacht hat, seine Jeansjacke mitzubringen.

Die Jeansjacke, die Adam sich gerade von den Schultern streift. "Was wird das?" fragt Leo.

"Dir ist doch kalt, oder?"

"Aber du frierst immer viel mehr als ich." Leo wird sicher nicht riskieren, dass Adam derjenige ist, der zitternd hier rumsteht, während ihr Zug immer mehr Verspätung aufsammelt. Wenn dann ist das Leos Schicksal, das er ertragen muss, weil er sich nicht dem Wetter angemessen angezogen hat.

Leo bekommt ein Augenrollen, aber Adam zieht sich die Jeansjacke wieder über. Nur dass er sie nicht zuknöpft, um noch besser gegen den Wind geschützt zu sein. Stattdessen macht er einen Schritt auf Leo zu und hält die Jacke auf. “Komm her?”

Wieder würde Leo sehr gerne fragen, was das hier wird, aber diesmal bleiben ihm die Worte im Hals stecken. Er hat keine Ahnung, wie er reagieren soll, kann nicht mal herkommen, weil er keinen Plan hat wohin.

Adam scheint Leos plötzliche Starre aber überhaupt nichts auszumachen, weil er selbst näherkommt, bis er wirklich direkt vor Leo steht. Leo bleibt stocksteif stehen, während Adam versucht, seine Hände mit den Aufschlägen der Jeansjacken hinter Leos Rücken zusammenzuführen. “Dann teilen wir eben”, verkündet Adam.

Es funktioniert nicht wirklich, aber auch das kann Leo nicht aussprechen. Dann würde Adam sich womöglich wieder von ihm entfernen und das ist ein Risiko, das Leo nicht eingehen kann. Auch wenn es absolut bescheuert ist, sich Adams Jeansjacke zu teilen, entweicht Leos Lippen ein leises “okay”, als er sich erlaubt, sich etwas näher zu Adam zu lehnen.

Adam reagiert, indem er seinen Griff hinter Leos Rücken verstärkt. Sie stehen Brust an Brust und Leo muss feststellen, dass die Jacke vielleicht nicht viel hilft, aber dass es dafür noch viel schöner ist, wenn Adam ihm so nah ist, dass seine Wärme in Leo hineinzusickern scheint.

Es dauert einen Moment, aber da Adam keine Anstalten macht, ihn wieder loszulassen, kann Leo auch für einen Moment seine rasenden Gedanken unterdrücken, die schon jetzt darüber grübeln, was das hier wohl bedeuten könnte. Doch vielleicht muss es gar keine besondere Bedeutung haben. Vielleicht kann Leo einfach seine Arme um Adam legen und seine Finger in den Stoff von Adams Hoodie krallen, damit sie dort wieder langsam auftauen können.

Möglicherweise wäre es doch nicht so schlimm, wenn ihre Bahn sich noch ein wenig Zeit lässt. Selbst wenn der kalte Wind immer noch um sie herum pfeift, kann Leo sein Kinn über Adams Schulter haken und die Wärme genießen, die Adams Jacke und Adams Arme um ihn und vielleicht auch einfach Adams Anwesenheit generell ihm spenden.

#vielen dank fürs fragen <3 #die beiden prompts waren wirklich gut #ich konnte mich kaum entscheiden #vielleicht schreibe ich den anderen auch noch mal irgendwann?#tatort saarbrücken #prompt fill #ficlet

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davidstinkt · 2 months ago

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Skiurlaub abgesagt wegen Kälte?! Wie Aichinger uns mit seiner Baby-Angst hängen ließ

„Wenn Aichinger Angst vor Kälte hat: Wie ein Baby den Skiurlaub ruiniert“

Es gibt wirklich Momente im Leben, da bleibt dir einfach die Spucke weg. Da plant man monatelang einen epischen Skiurlaub, träumt von rasanten Abfahrten, Après-Ski-Partys und dem Gefühl, durch frischen Pulverschnee zu gleiten. Alles ist perfekt vorbereitet: Unterkünfte gebucht, Skipässe auf der Tasche, und die Gruppe ist voll aufgeladen mit Vorfreude. Doch dann – ja, dann – kommt Aichinger, dieser wandelnde Alptraum in Menschengestalt, mit seiner jämmerlichen WhatsApp-Nachricht: „Leute, ich glaube, ich muss den Urlaub absagen… Es soll da oben richtig kalt werden, und ich glaube, ich pack das nicht.“

Kalt?! KALT??!! Das ist ein SKIurlaub, du Eiszapfen! Was hast du denn erwartet? 30 Grad und Sonnenschirme auf der Piste? Ein beheiztes Skierlebnis mit Fußbodenheizung im Schnee, während dir ein Team von Sherpas heiße Schokolade reicht? Junge, das ist kein Wellness-Wochenende! Wir fahren in die Alpen, nicht in die Sauna!

Aber weißt du was? Der eigentliche Knaller ist nicht mal Aichinger. Oh nein. Der wirkliche Tiefpunkt der Menschheit kommt erst, wenn David, dieser armselige, kriechende Wurm, aus seinem Loch gekrochen kommt und, wie immer, sofort seine Nase in Aichingers Weichei-Windel steckt: „Aichinger, du hast total recht. Kälte ist echt nichts für mich. Ich glaube, ich bleibe auch lieber zu Hause.“ Natürlich, David. Natürlich bleibst du zu Hause. Du kriegst doch schon Angst, wenn du ein Fenster öffnest und ein kühler Luftzug deine Stirn berührt! Du würdest wahrscheinlich die ganze Zeit wie ein Käfer auf dem Rücken liegen und nach Wärme betteln.

Und was könnte man von David auch anderes erwarten? Der Typ hat nicht nur Angst vor Kälte – oh nein, das wäre ja noch harmlos! David hat auch Angst davor, aufs Klo zu gehen, wenn er nicht in seinem vertrauten Heim ist. Ja, richtig gelesen! David kann nicht mal anderswo auf die Toilette gehen, weil er dann komplett ausrastet. Gott bewahre, dass er mal auf einer öffentlichen Toilette landet – er würde in Panik ausbrechen, als hätte er gerade einen Horrorfilm erlebt. Ich sehe es vor mir: David, schlotternd vor Angst, auf dem Hotelklo, mit Desinfektionsmittel bewaffnet, als ob er sich gegen die Apokalypse rüstet. Kein Wunder, dass der Kerl lieber zu Hause bleibt – da kennt er wenigstens jedes Fliesenmuster auswendig und muss sich nicht vor fremden Badezimmern fürchten.

Also mal ehrlich, David – wie planst du, jemals über deinen kleinen, sicheren Mikrokosmos hinauszuwachsen? Soll ich dir eine tragbare Toilette für den nächsten Ausflug besorgen? Oder besser noch: Bleib doch gleich zu Hause, wickel dich in deine Wärmflasche und zähl die Sekunden, bis Aichinger wieder anruft, um dir zu erzählen, wie furchtbar kalt es im Winter ist.

Es ist ja nicht so, dass wir zum Nordpol fahren oder uns einer gefährlichen Expedition in die Tiefen Sibiriens stellen. Wir reden hier von einem gemütlichen Skiurlaub in den Alpen! Aber nein, für euch zwei Heulsusen – Aichinger mit seiner Kältephobie und David mit seiner Toilettenpanik – ist das natürlich der reinste Albtraum. Ihr seid die Sorte Menschen, die in einer beheizten Gondel den Notarzt rufen würden, weil ihnen ein Luftzug an den Nacken kommt.

Lasst uns eines klarstellen: Während der Rest von uns über die Pisten fegt, den Schnee spürt und abends beim Après-Ski die Gläser hebt, sitzt ihr zwei wahrscheinlich zu Hause, eingewickelt in Wolldecken und jammert über die „harten Bedingungen“ des Winters. Und David, du wirst wahrscheinlich jede Stunde auf die Uhr schauen, ob es endlich sicher ist, wieder aufs eigene Klo zu gehen.

Es ist wie ein schlecht geschriebener Comedy-Film, nur dass keiner lacht. Hier sind also die Top 5 Ängste von Aichinger und David, warum sie unseren Skiurlaub natürlich „schweren Herzens“ absagen mussten:

1. Angst vor Kälte – Aichinger

Ja, das haben wir ja schon geklärt: Aichinger, der Held der Berge, hat Angst vor Kälte. Das allein ist schon absurd genug. Wer plant denn einen Skiurlaub und realisiert erst kurz vor Abfahrt, dass es da kalt sein könnte? Aber bei Aichinger ist das nicht einfach „brr, ich friere ein bisschen“. Nein, der Typ hat panische Angst, dass er auf der Piste plötzlich zu einem Eisklotz erstarrt, als würde er von einer magischen Frostattacke getroffen. Ich bin mir sicher, er malt sich aus, wie er als lebende Eisskulptur vom Pistenrettungsdienst abtransportiert wird. Ein menschlicher Schneemann, der bei jeder Bewegung knirscht und kracht.

2. Angst vor Höhe – David

Ach, und dann David, unser Held der Niederungen. Natürlich hat er auch noch Höhenangst! Stell dir das mal vor: Ein Skigebiet auf einem Berg – wer hätte das gedacht?! Aber für David ist das natürlich zu viel. „Was, wenn ich in der Gondel sitze und sie bleibt stecken?“, „Was, wenn ich aus Versehen runtergucke und plötzlich Höhenangst bekomme?“ Ja, was, David? Du kippst um, während du sicher angeschnallt in der Gondel sitzt? Wahrscheinlich würde er vor Angst hyperventilieren und den Notarzt rufen, wenn er nur die Bergspitze sieht. Am liebsten würde er wohl mit verbundenen Augen und Ohren die Pisten runter, nur um ja nicht zu bemerken, dass er sich in den Alpen befindet.

3. Angst vor Skiern – Aichinger

Ja, du hast richtig gelesen: Aichinger hat Angst vor Skiern. Nicht etwa vor dem Skifahren selbst – nein, er hat Angst vor den Skiern als Objekte. Diese „langen, scharfen Bretter“ könnten ihn ja „verletzen“, wenn er stolpert oder – Gott bewahre – jemand kommt ihm zu nahe und „sticht“ ihn versehentlich mit einer Skikante. Es ist ein Wunder, dass er jemals in der Lage war, überhaupt Schuhe anzuziehen, wenn ihn Skier schon in Todesangst versetzen. Wahrscheinlich stellt er sich vor, wie die Skier zu lebensgefährlichen Waffen mutieren und ihn auf dem Berg jagen. Horrorfilm à la „Die Attacke der Killer-Skier“.

4. Angst vor fremden Lebensmitteln – David

David hat nicht nur Angst vor fremden Toiletten, nein, er hat auch Angst davor, woanders als zu Hause zu essen. „Was, wenn ich etwas esse und eine allergische Reaktion bekomme?“, „Was, wenn das Essen nicht richtig gekocht ist und ich eine Lebensmittelvergiftung bekomme?“ Klar, David, weil in den Skihütten die Köche darauf lauern, dich mit einem schlecht durchgebratenen Schnitzel ins Verderben zu stürzen. Der Typ bringt wahrscheinlich sein eigenes Brot, sein eigenes Wasser und sein eigenes Besteck mit – nur um sicherzugehen, dass er nicht versehentlich eine Erbse isst, die er nicht kennt.

5. Angst vor Geschwindigkeit – Aichinger

Und dann wäre da noch Aichingers unerklärliche Angst vor Geschwindigkeit. Ja, du hast richtig gehört: Geschwindigkeit. Es könnte ja sein, dass er auf den Skiern „zu schnell“ wird und sich nicht mehr stoppen kann. Stell dir vor, er gleitet elegant die Piste runter und fängt plötzlich an zu schreien: „Aaaah, ich werde zu schnell!“ – als wäre er ein Auto ohne Bremsen. Aichinger sieht sich wahrscheinlich in einer irrwitzigen Abfahrt in den Tod rasen, während seine Beine versuchen, mit den Skiern mitzuhalten. Dabei fahren wir nicht mal auf der schwarzen Piste, sondern auf den entspannten blauen Abfahrten, die selbst ein Kind locker meistern würde.

6. Angst vor Schneefall – David

David, dieser elende Hypochonder, hat auch noch Angst davor, dass es während des Urlaubs schneit. Ja, du hast richtig gehört. Der Mann hat ernsthaft Angst, dass Schnee vom Himmel fällt. „Was, wenn es plötzlich schneit und wir eingeschneit werden?“, „Was, wenn der Schneefall so stark ist, dass ich die Orientierung verliere?“ David, das ist ein Skigebiet, kein Polarforschungscamp! Und selbst wenn es schneit, glaubst du ernsthaft, wir müssen uns mit Schaufeln durch Schneewände kämpfen? Er stellt sich wahrscheinlich vor, dass er mitten in einer weißen Schneehölle endet, ohne Hoffnung, jemals wieder das warme Innere einer Hütte zu sehen.

Also, Aichinger und David, bleibt ruhig daheim. Niemand vermisst euch. Ihr habt sowieso keinen Sinn für Abenteuer. Während ihr euch vor Kälte, fremden Toiletten und dem Rest der Welt versteckt, werden wir draußen im Schnee unseren Spaß haben – wie echte Menschen, die keine Angst davor haben, mal aus ihrer Komfortzone auszubrechen.

4 notes · View notes