#this is deeply shameful
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intoxicated | könig
summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...
tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words
cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.
MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT
You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.
Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.
“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.
The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”
“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”
Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.
It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?
You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.
It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…
But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.
“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.
“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”
König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.
“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”
“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.
You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.
Then the man dropped his pen.
“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.
König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.
“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead.
Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.
In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.
You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”
“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”
“You know I can’t leave—”
His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”
His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.
“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”
“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”
“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”
Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.
“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.
“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.
You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.
“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.
“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons.
König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”
“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”
He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.
“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.
“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.
You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.
“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.
Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.
“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.
The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.
His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.
After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.
König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”
You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”
“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.
“König?” you asked nervously.
Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.
“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”
His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.
Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.
“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”
You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”
You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.
“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”
“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”
You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."
“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”
“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.
“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”
He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.
“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”
Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.
“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.
When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.
“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”
Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.
Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.
König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.
“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.
“K-König—”
“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.
“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.
Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”
You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.
“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”
“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”
“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.
“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.
“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.
“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”
His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”
“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”
He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”
“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.
“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”
The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.
“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”
“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”
“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”
“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”
He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”
“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
He froze for a moment. “What?”
“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”
Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”
“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”
“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”
“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”
He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”
It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.
König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”
“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”
König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”
“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”
“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”
“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”
König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”
“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”
“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”
“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”
“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”
“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”
“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.
He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’
With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”
“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”
“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”
Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”
#konig smut#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig cod#smut#cod smut#cod mw2#cod modern warfare#task force 141#kortac#cod konig#cod horangi#simon ghost riley#konig x you#sex pollen#i should go to bed#this is deeply shameful#what is it with guys in masks being so attractive#should we really romanticize homicidal men#because i would any day they're so bbg#i would do anything for this man#can you tell i'm obsessed#author is foaming at the mouth
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Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.
Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?
Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.
The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.
Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.
It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.
I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.
He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.
#gravity falls#grunkle stan#stanley pines#STANLEYYYYYY#STANLEY THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU STANLEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#sharky rants#Just. Imagine the fucking shame you have to live with#the shame that you can never be yourself. That anything you were is unwanted and forgotten#The shame of just BEING- Of taking space of- of /breathing-/#Imagine the world; your friend; your family; your colleagues being so ashamed of having known you#that you feel more comfortable with a persona to present.#You feel more comfortable stealing the identity of someone you care for deeply if only to help#If only to feel capable for once. To feel like you belong- Like youre doing something good for once#Imagine the shame that brings you to be comfortable not being yourself for 40 years.#ALL CASE YOU BROKE ONE FUCKING PROJECT??????? COME ON#I mean- the deeprooted shame was started from earlier. He was 'the stupid twin“; 'the troublemaker”; “the cheat and thief”#This was a long time coming#But those werent MISTAKES- The one time he genuinely made a Mistake he lost everything#Like he really mattered so little to the people around him#and he cant really blame them.#My cousin is a genius. Hes smart and academically achieved since I was a baby.#The only thing I had that he didnt was my ability to draw. to be creative. The guy for the longest time had a better social life then me too#I used to get brought to tears seeing his accomplishments- seeing people praise him. The shame lived in me any time I had to see him#The shame that I was the black sheep of the family next to the golden standard for a son- for a student- for a friend.#when I was none of those things#And Im lucky he was my cousin- cause if he was my brother that would have haunted me EVERY DAY rather then once or twice a year#Im better with it now; Im more content with who I am- But trauma dump aside-#I very very very much understand Stans shame in being the stupid one. The unachieved one in a family full of achieved people#the shame thats angry at him for being better. at the family for treating him special. and most of all at yourself that you cant be better#its a visceral feeling that I sadly understand
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on shame and yearning (pt.1)
#web weaving#shame#yearning#this is deeply personal for me#tumblr has a 10 pictures limit so i will be making this into three parts
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my personal headcanon is the vees were unremarkable nobodies when they were alive. i just love it as a thematic throughline for them. they love to let the public of hell speculate on them being famed and acclaimed since before death, but the the truth is they were a d-list failed influencer that got by on cheap controversey and scamming, a broke junkie who burned every shaky bridge he ever had, and a worn-out broadcast production assistant with more rejected auditions and tossed out script pitches than he could count. nobody missed them when they were gone, nobody cared who they were until they were dead.
#because villains who didn't start off supremely powerful are more interesting to me#vees#it's not that they CAN'T be better. or that they're simply ignorant of the ways they fuck up others lives#they actually all do have that knowledge of being the underdog. and it's made them all the more shitty#because they never want to be those people again#narratives about people who make each other worse <3#to be clear they were still shitty people in life. manipulative. consumed by greed and envy. all their individual flaws etc etc#but hell made them into the absolute worst versions of themselves#of course what their Worst Self is and the journey/length of time/initial reaction to being in hell varies#like val sees hell as a continuation of the things happening in life. just w/ the power dynamics always privileging him#it's the same drugs and violence. except the violence isn't just survival anymore but the chance to indulge his deeply sadistic desires#vox has completely dissociated from his time alive. that person is dead and he's reinvented himself 1000 times over since then#90% of the time he has those memory files shoveled into a hidden directory#he refuses to acknowledge that he's still haunted by some of the same insecurities from almost a century ago#val doesn't necessarily see his living self in a fond light but he does see that person as fundamentally him#velvette thinks life was full of people who weren't her demographic but fortunately that's been fixed by sinners!#they just couldn't Get Her and that was all their faults#the primary way they view their past selves can be summed up as: scorn (vox) apathy (valentino) and in denial (velvette)#sorry the bulk of the post was in the tags. i will be doing this again#the scorn is the coping mechanism for shame. of course
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learning that a very large group of isreali military, civilians, and politicians are currently rioting against their government against the prospect of making the systematic rape of Palestinians a little less legal is further opening my eyes to the true utter sickness and depravity of the israeli colonial mindset after months of liberals telling me it was "all netanyahu"
#like no actually i think the isreali settler colonialism going rampantly unchecked for a century in a deeply propagandized colony#has truly melted a great deal of these ppls brains and their ability to experience empathy or humanity for others#and the us governments hand in not only encouraging it but supplying the tools for them to continue in total impunity is so deeply shameful#israel is at this point is just a disgustingly over glorified military base in Palestine
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I know the AI stuff is stupid but.
This! This part of the interview. That's it. That's why.
How many people dare to live this? In the public eye no less. I'm not saying there are none but, man. It just gets me.
#käärijä#his is why you're loved so deeply#you are the epitome of unapologetic love and self-love#with all your imperfections#they belong there as to every one of us. and still we should not be ashamed.#i really really mean it when i call him saint jere#because to me he is the little demon angel that will save me by showing what is possible. if you love and cast shame aside.#sorry for the waxing lyrical but that got me good
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You meet your other sister-in-law very briefly.
She arrives unannounced in full Odonii garb and a long cloak for the cold, soaked through with rain. She's taller than most men, and carries herself like one too. Her hair spills out of her veil, not only unbraided but a horrendous mess. It's kind of fascinating. You catch a glimpse of a handgun slung across her back, hidden beneath her cloak. This is especially exciting; you’ve never seen one up close. You try to peek around her to get a better look at it, and flush in embarrassment when she catches you, shooting you a cold glare.
It doesn't seem like she speaks much without being spoken to, and you aren’t really the type to initiate conversations either. Livya fills in for the both of you, prompting your sister-in-law to introduce herself. Her name is Couya. You give her a respectful bow and curtsy, she gives a very slight bow back without looking you in the eye. She compliments your necklace. Or at least, she mumbles something while looking in the general direction of your necklace, and it might have been a compliment. You aren’t sure whether there’s something wrong with her or she’s just rude.
She's just her for filial duties at the family shrine, and she doesn't stay long. Livya stops her on her way out. She says she's disappointed that the one time in a year she can be bothered to come by, she shows up looking like a disheveled street-whore in priest's clothing. Look at Hibrides, she didn't even know we were having company and still did up her hair so nicely, and all by herself too. Thank God your father isn't here to see this, he's suffered enough embarrassment as it is-.
Couya stands in the doorway in silence through this whole speech. You thoroughly inspect a loose tile in the floor and try your best to pretend you aren't there. Livya doesn't take her hand off your shoulder the whole time.
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[I've been writing an overview of Hibrides' first several years of marriage for the hell of it. It's just a summary but it's written with like, the slightest bit of prose, so figured I'd dump a section here]
#Not sure why I started writing this in 2nd person but it's stuck like that now#Livya was the most depressed housewife that has ever lived and deeply unwell. Neither of her daughters went through the#normal experiences she had to of marriage and moving away from home and having children and etc so when Janeys abandons Hibrides#in her home for about 3 years she kinda gloms onto her and treats her like another daughter. She projects on Hibrides HARD#because she reminds her of what she was like as a 15 year old bride. Sees Hibrides as having gotten fucked over with a terrible#husband (which isn't Wrong but its straight up significantly better than how her other options probably would've turned out)#and wants to toughen her up for what she sees as an inevitably dismal life ahead.#This isn't great for the newlywed child who just got moved away from everything she ever knew and abandoned with her#complete stranger of a mother in law.#And also finds herself in the 'golden child used to shame the other children' position frequently which is what's going on here#I might post the whole summary but this is like. The most grimdark part of Hibrides' entire life like its pretty damn rough.#Kind of by nature because it's about being a 15 y/o child bride (not considered a child in this society but like you know).#Also kinda of gives the wrong idea for what she's like later as an actual adult with substantially more agency in her situation.#hibrides uryashta#couya haidamane#livya haidamane
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Machete sounds like a pious Skeletor in my head. absolutely no wiggle room mentally. mustache twirling, gay-coded purple skeleton man voice with a deeply buried shame and religious trauma. I cannot imagine him with any other voice. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNz6eHfsESQ&ab_channel=PeacockKids
And just like that, I'll never be able to look at Skeletor the same way again.
youtube
#it's not like I can feasibly stop you from imagining him as#Pious Skeletor Mustache Twirling Purple Skeleton Man with Deeply Buried Shame and Religious Trauma#if that's what you want to go with#answered#makkon
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Something that is sad but also that I hugely appreciate about CK is that by the end, most of the systems that harmed the crows are still in place, but their relationships with themselves have grown and changed. I find this particularly interesting in the cases of Jesper and Wylan (shocking I know). Their identities still put them in danger of being exploited or harmed - Grisha indentures are still the norm in Kerch, and the auction scene made it very clear that if the Council knew Wylan's illiteracy was true, they would treat him much the same as his father did due to the culture surrounding productivity and ability. This might seem disheartening, but the hope lies in the shift in how these characters see themselves and their role in the world. By the end of the book, Jesper and Wylan are beginning to put away their internalized shame surrounding their identities. They may still have to hide who they are from the world to survive, but they're no longer hiding it from themselves - their true selves are no longer this crushing burden they have to turn away from to function. A general theme of the series is how, in accepting who they are and what has happened to them on a personal level, the crows place themselves in positions to make change on a systemic level - Inej and her ship, Nina and her mission, Kaz and his Barrel empire, Wylan and Jesper with their political, high-society empire. None of them are all the way there yet by the end - they're still healing, and both the loss of Matthias and the weight of those oppressive systems are going to weigh on them for a long time - but we get to see the very beginnings of that process. I'm going to bite someone.
#that being said. they need so much therapy. that sort of deeply internalized shame doesn't go away after a heist or two#it is kinda heartening u know bc i get real down about how immovable systems seem#and even after something good happens in that regard on an individual level it doesn't seem to get any better#it's ok. what is change but a bunch of people doing better together#this is why i dont want soc3. this is a great stopping point thematically and in that respect i dont need or want to see more#let them exist in this place in my mind. on the brink of things getting better#anyway jan van eck die one million billion times#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#inej ghafa#nina zenik#kaz brekker#matthias helvar#six of crows#soc#tgt#soc meta#OUGHAHGAHGOUAGH
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*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*
Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.
#ah yes. the struggle of seeing yourself as a machine incapable of truly having an emotional connection with others#no matter how deeply you long for such things#whilst simultaneously seeing that deep longing within you as a mistake. a flaw. an imperfection#you were made to be absolute and impartial#to be biased in favor of your charges beyond that which your ‘programming’ dictates is shameful#you are broken. you are flawed. you want and you want and you want and you’ve never stopped /wanting./#you aren’t supposed to worry or care or love. you weren’t made for it.#and if you were not made for it then you simply cannot worry or care or love.#these /things/ that haunt you and make you inefficient are not emotions.#they are your imperfections; flaws in your make; symbols of your failures to live up to your purpose#you are broken. you are flawed. and you want so deeply that you can scarcely keep the longing inside you#such a failure you are; to not only survive the fall of the metropolis you were built to give your life to defend#but also to stoop to and revel in such indulgent imperfections as these false emotions the moment your makers are gone to dust#Fun Fact! Sen doesn’t require sleep#and spends every evening standing outside of Sharpedo Bluff / whatever campsite the gang have set up to guard the entrance.#she doesn't stay inside at night because it wasn't something done in the metropolis she hails from.#sentries are meant to watch over their charges. they are not meant to indulge in the pleasant and dry warmth of their homes.#Kip hears about this eventually (he thought it was just Sen not trusting people enough to sleep around them) and FLIPS OUT#“PLEASE would you come inside IT'S LITERALLY HAILING”#Sen is taking so much hail damage and has the gall to look at him and say “You should return to your home. the weather is unfavorable”#Kip just screams into his hands because he might have found someone even worse at self-care than Twig#And with that#it is beddy-bye time for Sofie :)#the present is a gift au#pmd oc#pmd ocs#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokémon mystery dungeon#pmd explorers#pmd eos
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“You can barely remember what happened before you started looping”?? Ohhh boy that’s not good…time to go talk to the king I guess.
#Also my ADHD ass is sympathizing with the horror and shame of a bad memory so deeply#in stars and time#isat#Isat spoilers
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#deeply disappointed#in both my country#and the man who was supposed to be a beacon of change#I remember when he first got elected#that was the first election I really paid attention to#he got young people in this country to engage in politics#in a way that hadn’t been seen before#my generation helped to get him elected#and hes turned his back on us#shame on you Trudeau#Trudeau
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,
#sometimes i wonder if sex is a thing that's more enjoyable in my mind than irl to me#because im not a big fan of being touched at all#maybe im just telling myself this because im not having sex and that also kinda sucks cjnxnxjx#and im way too anxious to go out there and actively seek out a partner#it's also funny cause with most irl crushes i've had i would never want to have sex with them#but like..... the idea of sex is fun you know?#writing and reading and fantasizing about sex is fun#?????#i'm wondering if this is just how i work or if it's tied to shame#sexting is fun too !!!#idk about doing it irl tho jdhdjdjd#flirting is fun#flustering others is fun#and i guess touching others is a lot better than being touched#am i..... a stone top#i'm kidding....... i think#jdhdjdnxnbdnxjxjxx#then again there's also a huge sub sitting inside me so like..... even more ??????#i mean i also have HUGE trust issues so there's that too#ugh#anyway sorry for the rambles jdnxjxjx#i just felt like typing this out somewhere cause i've been thinking about it a lot#and i felt like a smut blog with 2k followers is just the right place to share deeply private thoughts about my relationship with sex jdndnx#so yea if any of you have been wondering.... this smut writer here is not getting ANY jdbdjxnx
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thinking about otto’s insane pseudo marital dynamic with alicent (‘you look so much like your mother’ ‘your mother’s dress’ etc etc) paired with viserys’ pseudo paternal dynamic with alicent (all their discussions centring rhaenyra, viserys talking down to her like he might a daughter… yet…) and how they resulted in alicent having the weirdest dynamics with her own children
#caution don’t think too much though you will go insane#the poison drips through etc etc#i think alicent really does project onto aemond and aegon in the sense that she fears so deeply what they may (or in aegon’s case Have)#become#that she tries to steer them away though a lot of the time it is to her own detriment#‘think of the shame on me on your wife’ helaena’s role in this is even more insane because i think she sees herself as her#hotd#alicent hightower#i’ve never really talked about this before that’s why everything is jumbled
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it's normal to put your kinks in a kids' tv show. surely none of those kids will grow up to be into bondage. surely.
#do it once#shame on me for looking too deeply into it#do it 4 FUCKING TIMES#IT'S NOT MY PROBLEM ANYMORE WTF ARE ALL ARTISTS PERVERTS?!#why do i even ask. im an artist. i know.#gf#gravity falls#stanford pines
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for me, shizun mo ran cannot be normal about disciple chu wanning and i don't mean that in a lecherous naughty shizun way i mean that he will center his entire mentalemotional wellbeing on "saving" chu wanning
#2ha#roleswap ranwan#i want to slowly erode mo ran's mental health with how chu wanning will open up just a little to everyone except him#i want him to swim in vinegar and feel shame for it#shouldn't he be happy his disciple has friends? shouldn't he be happy to see his disciple laughing?#he has several disciples obviously and they all like him so why doesn't cwn like him#why won't cwn smile for him#why does it seem like all he can do is hurt him no matter how hard he tries.#I JUST THINK ROLESWAP WOULD EMPHASIZE/REFRAME ALL THE WAYS RANWAN ARE DEEPLY TOXIC AND BAD FOR EACH OTHER IN A WAY THAT IS INTERESTING TO M
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