He’s Got That Previously Neglected Shelter Dog Rizz. He Looks Like He Wants To Quietly Sit Next To

stunted dove, broken wings

slightly dark simon riley x sergeant medic f!reader

misunderstood crushes to enemies to lovers, toxic masculinity, dubcon, somno, smut

When Simon Riley finally gets you in his bed, you go kicking and screaming.

Your captain forces you to take leave after Johnny's scrape with death, and you pointedly refuse to tell anyone on the team where you're going. Too shaken to go home, you don't tell your family that you found a hotel to camp out in in London, paid for courtesy of a well-timed SAS Combat Medical Technician credit card. You spring for a nice one, hoping the room charges will piss off anyone reading them on the back end.

The first two nights you can't sleep, stuck with the image of the bullet in Johnny's torso when you tried to push him out of the way. Your hands, covered in his blood, slippery as you tried to maintain pressure against the wound. Screaming for your captain, your Sergeant, so desperate as to call out for Simon with a pained "Ghost". You wake panting, sweat dripping down your back, and watch the sun rise from your window.

The third night, you decide a drink is needed.

It's the shittiest dive bar in London, you think. The music speaker is tinny, your alcoholic cider is definitely watered down and the bar seat is a little sticky. Perfect to drown your sorrows, and potentially find some asshole you'll never see again to drown in as well.

The footie on the TV drones low, a never-ending stream of consciousness you focus on. You let it drown out the sound of Johnny wheezing under you. The beeping of medical machines when you got to the field hospital, the pale tone of his blood-drained skin. The rasping of his intubation tube, his throat bulging because of the plastic intrusion. The rabid look in his eyes when he finally woke, irrevocably changed because of you.

The game cuts to commercial. When you drag your eyes away and to your left, the empty seat is newly occupied by a man.

Prey for the night, hopefully.

"You watchin'?" He gestures to the screen with a beer bottle in his hands. You take in his buzzcut, the way his muscles don't fully fill out his t-shirt, his worn jeans. Good enough, though when you're surrounded by military men all the time, civilians seem to pale in comparison.

You shrug. "Men yelling at each other is background noise at this point." He raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised you didn't follow some unforeseen script. "That so?" He asks. You smile, thin and feline. "In one ear and out the other." You answer, turning so you face him instead of the bar. "That why you're talking to me? 'Cause I'm not yellin'." He leans closer, one elbow on the bar. You cringe to think of him putting his bare skin against the sticky faux-wood, completely unaware of his surroundings.

"I'm talking to you because I think you have something to offer me." You let your gaze fall down to his lap and trail up to his face, ending with a smirk. When he leans forward, the staleness of his Axe cologne hits you. You wrinkle your nose at the sliver of disgust in your stomach, but when you think of the empty room waiting, you decide to push through.

"I-"

A figure appears in the empty space on your left. Foreboding, like he should be wearing a dark robe and holding a scythe. You ignore it completely.

"Hey, man, we're talking. Can we get some space?" The brave, or stupid, stranger ventures, scanning your lieutenant up and down. "No." Simon grunts. You keep your head straight, refusing to engage. His presence is all-consuming, heat rolling off him like a furnace while his anger seems to heighten by the minute. "Thoughts on an offer?" You murmur, taking care to keep your voice steady. You turn your shoulder slightly towards the bartop so you don't have to keep seeing Simon in your periphery. The stranger copies you with hunched shoulders and disgust at his meekness rolls through your veins.

"You know this dude?" The stranger whispers, nodding over his shoulder. You follow his gaze, looking at Simon for the first time since he's arrived. You start at the top of his head, out in the open as he switched out his usual skullface for a black medical mask. The short blonde strands look like honey in the bar light. His eyes have remnants of eyeblack, giving the illusion that he just finished mining in a cave somewhere sinister. He's in his usual outfit of a black sweatshirt and dark jeans, but it fits him so unlike the stranger next to you. His shoulders stretch the sweatshirt impossibly thin while his thighs do the same against their denim confines. That cologne of his, a spicy scent usually mixed with gunpower or blood, is for once just that -- no heady mix of warfare to be found. You can still sense war on him though, in the hands that flex at his sides.

"Never seen him before in my life." You lie, biting down a smirk before it appears on your face. "Move." Simon orders and you sigh, turning so that you can leave the chair. Instead, a hand clamps down on your shoulder, keeping you rooted to the spot. The stranger takes the hint, scampering away back to whatever rat hole he came from. Simon takes his seat, dwarfing it with his sizeable mass of muscles and tension.

"Shouldn't lie, Sergeant. Bad look." He suggests, a mocking tone in his voice. You refrain from rolling your eyes, reminding yourself you're still in the presence of a superior, though technically as a medic, the lines are blurry. "I wasn't lying. I've never seen you as a civilian, Simon." You hum the syllables of his name, ones you've never let roll off your tongue. You've said them in your head thousands of times, ever since you peeked at his confidential medical file for some reason or another. Si-mon, haunting you with his arrogance on and off the field.

He tenses at the sounds of his name, one hand fisting against his thigh. You watch the veins pop and release as he tightens the leash he has on himself, a soldier to the very core. He breathes in then out, and suddenly it's like nothing ever happened. Simon scans the bar, the creaking of the lights and the debauchery of the clientele, before landing back on you. "Didn't expect you to be drinkin' in a shithole." He remarks. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, some black battered thing with a skullface. "Think that's a little on the nose, Lieutenant?" You nod to the ghostface, holding back a snort. He looks down at the lighter like it's the first time he's seeing it. "Johnny gave it to me few years ago; Christmas gift." Your heart sinks at the mention of him. The brother-in-arms that you let get shot, didn't pull out of the way fast enough. The one who's currently sentenced to six months of PT and will probably be discharged after, forced into civilian life like a square peg into a circular hole. On that note, you check your pockets for your hotel key and phone. Once you've confirmed you have your stuff, you slap down some cash for the cider and get up out of your seat.

"See you later, Lieutenant." You walk past him, your knuckles brushing his knee as you fail to control your fast-paced walk. It's a bolt of lightning, Zeus laughing from somewhere above as you're unable to control the shiver down your spine. You keep your head up, continuing past him until you exit onto the backstreets of London. Cars honk and pedestrians yell and lights blare as you remind yourself that you're in regular society and not the battlefield. You turn left towards your hotel, walking briskly so you can speed up the inevitable.

Heavy footsteps follow you the entire time.

-

You don't try to push him out of the elevator when he gets in, only trailing by a few seconds. There's no point in making a scene and you definitely don't want Price hearing about this, his subordinates getting into yet another squabble about something inane. Instead, you stand there, resisting the urge to shift back and forth on your feet like you used to do before the SAS trained it out of you. Simon stands silently on your right, having to be the one to press the button of the floor. You don't tell him your floor number and he doesn't ask.

You've learned not to question these things.

He crowds your back at the door of your room, barely giving your arm room to fish your keycard out of your jean pocket. It beeps green and you push through, toeing off your shoes. He follows and you hear the audible click of the lock, all three available. "Shoes off," you snap when you hear him try to step on your carpet with god-knows-what on his boots. They thump loudly and suddenly it's quiet.

"I'll take first shift." He declares, shouldering past you to explore the room. You can sense when he takes in the extravagance you've allowed yourself: room service menus scattered, goodies from the spa service you had yesterday, bra and underwear draped over the chair in the corner. The only other place to sit, with all your outfits spread out, is the couch.

Simon approaches the chair without caution, grunting dispassionately as he gathers lacy items in one large paw. He scrunches them in his fist, as if to feel their weight, then tosses them on the couch. "It's a hotel, Simon, not a campout." You bite out. He's still standing in front of the chair, blocking your path to the couch where your pajamas lay. He's just so big -- taking up every aspect of your life and your room, the one week he wasn't even supposed to be here. Instead of asking him to move, which he clearly won't do, you shoulder past him. It's your shoulder and arm and leg against his own, burning with awareness that this is the most you've touched in a non-medical setting. He doesn't stop you, but he doesn't move either, simply watching as you grab the t-shirt and shorts you've been wearing to bed. Alone, they made a perfect pajama set. With how the sleeve of your shirt falls off one shoulder and the tiny barely-there size of your shorts, you could almost pretend you're a regular woman with a regular job, who didn't send her coworker to the hospital.

You wash the bar grime off you quickly in the bathroom, distinctly aware of being naked while your lieutenant waits outside. Towel, lotion, change, then it's time to brush your teeth. As you stick your bright pink toothbrush in your mouth, you remember how Simon seems to be here with no supplies. The drawer contains an extra white disposable toothbrush, and you snatch it and exit the bathroom without thinking.

He's practically naked.

Well, the most you've ever willingly seen. Only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, it feels illegal to see him like this. You've seen him naked, once: a bullet graze on his outer thigh. It was medical and fast and adrenaline-driven, no time to clock the tattoos that start on his arm and the scars that make themselves known everywhere else. The mask is off and you've seen his face too, but coupled with all this skin it's like a new man. And then you remember what he said and did and you hate him all over again.

"Here." You throw the toothbrush square at his chest, your words muffled by the toothbrush in your mouth. He doesn't say thank you, just looks down like you've thrown him a live grenade. You go back to the bathroom and finish up, ready to sleep this stupid day away. The lack of sleep has finally caught up with you and it's making you delirious, imagining that Simon's eyes were locked on your thighs when in reality, he was probably just caught off-guard.

Though he never really gets caught off-guard. He's the Ghost, after all.

You exit the bathroom and immediately beeline for the bed, ignoring how he walks into it after you like that's normal. Communal showers on base aren't the same as this, him using the same aloe vera hotel soap you did.

You turn off the lights, not caring if he can't see. Then it's ten minutes of shifting around in bed until the bathroom door opens and you stiffen like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't have. The chair in the corner creaks with his weight. When you peek out behind the sheets, you can see him lean his head back on the headrest, jaw sharp in the moonlight shining through the curtained windows. You hide yourself in the mountain of blankets and pillows and by some miracle, sleep.

A ticking bomb. Johnny shouting, Price in your ear, Ghost and Gaz lost somewhere in the building. Footsteps and yelling and the click of a safety turning off and you jump out from the corner, hands grasping at Johnny's legs as you try to drag him out of the way. The thud of a bullet hitting skin and you're reaching for your gun, aiming steady like how Price taught you and not hesitating like how Ghost showed you. It fires and Makarov crumples but Johnny's in your arms, blood everywhere and you can't tell if the bullet hit his heart but he's murmuring something in a language you don't understand.

Other medics arrive and they have to pull you off him. You're apologizing to empty air and the lieutenant brushes past you. You try to grab his arm and say sorry but he shakes you off, fire in his eyes.

"It's your fault, tech." Tech, the derogatory name some less grateful soldiers call you when you get in their way. Ghost's eyes squint under his mask. "Get out of my way before you get me shot, too."

You wake up crying and thrashing, tangled in sweaty sheets.

"You're okay, you're okay. Deep breaths, dove." He's half-straddling you, one leg pinning your lap down while the other stands straight on the floor. Bare callused hands cup your face, holding you firmly in place. You blink the tears out of your eyes, vision blurry and light nowhere to be found. The clock blinks 2:08AM at you, red and oppressive. He jerks your head away from the clock to turn back to what you assume is his face, but it's hard for you to see in the dark.

"It's my fault he got shot." You admit. You shake his hands off your face so you can swipe at your tears, palms against the underside of your eyes to stave off more sadness. "'s not. Was a stupid move he made." He replies, voice low and raspy with sleep. He was sleeping and you woke him up with your stupid, stupid nightmare. "You said it's my fault." You whisper, the true root of your tears. The man you thought might like you, might do more than tolerate your existence, blaming you for the near-death of his best friend. The one he calls a brother.

"I did." It's not a question, but you nod to affirm his words anyway. "And you called me tech." You add as an afterthought, embarrassed at how much you care. "I'm sorry, dove. Was mad and not thinkin'." You might've accepted that answer years ago. But you won't take it in the dark like this, not when he didn't offer it without prompting. "I'm going to bed." You reply, ripping yourself out of his arms. As you turn, instead of going back to his chair, he lifts himself over you and to the other side of the king bed.

"What are you doing?" You whisper-yell, trying to ignore how his warmth seeps into your bones despite there being enough room between you to not touch. "Sleepin'." He asserts like he's daring you to say no. You huff and roll your eyes, turning so your back is towards him. Exhaustion washes over you and you sleep again.

-

You wake again to a heavy arm around your waist and fingers brushing against the waistband of your shorts. "What're you doing?" You slur, sleepy and comforted by the warmth of him against your back. "Thought you were fuckin' Johnny. Tha's why I was mad." He murmurs against your skin. Your shoulder is bare, shirt slipped down, and suddenly there's pressure against it. Simon mouths at your bare skin, tongue laving at the sweat that's accumulated the whole night. "I hate you," you sigh, not pushing him away but not arching into him either. His fingers slip under your shorts and find your cunt sopping. He has to pry your thighs apart slightly to have room and you find yourself unable to resist. Rough fingers slide up and down your folds, petting at the soft curls there. He runs them against the seam of you but doesn't dip down in between, content to just feel.

He kisses into the crook of your neck, running his tongue brazenly across your skin like he owns you. "No, you don't." He corrects you in his Lieutenant tone. You don't respond, neither confirming nor denying, and it's enough to make him slip down between your folds. The angle is awkward, but his thumb finds your clit anyway, rubbing small circles as you jerk under him. His middle finger teases your hole, and he chuckles as it flutters under his attentions. "I know, baby, I know. It hurts, doesn't it?" He jeers. It hurts to be so empty, his fingers right there but not going in. "Simon." You whine, giving in. You muffle the last syllable into the pillow underneath you, turning your face inward. He doesn't like that you're hiding from him, growling as he has to make out with your neck and not your lips, so you open your thighs wider to compensate.

His finger slips in and it's like heaven.

He's bigger than your own fingers, thick for you to clench around. Now that he has more room, he experiments with angles until he finds the right one. It's all-consuming, his mouth on your neck and his thumb on your clit and his finger pumping in and out like he knows what's better for your body than you do. Your nipples are hard and with every movement they brush against the soft fabric of your t-shirt, just the right amount of friction and heat.

"Turn." You refuse, mainly to punish yourself for giving in when you're just so mad. His fingers slip out and you're cursing and he's yanking off the comforter and pulling down your shorts. Simon settles himself on top of you, one hand on your jaw so you're no longer face-into-pillow. He slips in two fingers and his thumb is back on your clit and you keen, hips bucking in contentment at being filled. A streak of moonlight hits his face, giving you a glimpse of blown pupils and a set mouth. It's you who closes the difference, feeling his lips on yours for the very first time. You're not sure who's more angry but it's him who bites your upper lip a little too rough, leaving you to gasp openly into his mouth. He takes the chance to slip in a third finger.

"Fucking bastard." You breathe into his mouth, core tensing as you stretch around him. He smiles against you, feral. "Need you prepped, dove." You kiss him to shut him up, bruising as your noses brush unkindly. He rubs harder and you flutter around his fingers, orgasm creeping up unexpectedly. He leans his weight into the next kiss and you break, clenching hard as your release makes you boneless under him. A low moan rumbles through you and you sigh, forehead pressing into his collarbone. "Take my cock out, baby." You shake your head at his order, too tired to follow. His fingers slip out and you sigh discontentedly. "I can't." You complain, body not obeying his commands.

Powerful hands grip your hips and flip you so you're face down. One of the pillows smothering you disappears and slips under your hips, tilting them upwards. A massive weight presses into your back and his forearms bracket your head where your head is turned to the side for air. Some fabric shifts and he pushes in, stretching you so wide until you combust. "Simon, it hurts." He slides to the hilt and you gasp, so full you swear your insides won't ever be the same. He pulls back and pushes in again, the slide easier than the first. "Relax and it won't, dove." He grunts next to your air, warm breath rasping against your ear. You force your muscle to relax, taking a deep breath. The next thrust is good and the next one even better, stuffing you full of him further and further. It feels peculiar, that spot inside you being hit with every thrust, something that's only happened once or twice.

"Feels funny." You slur, almost drunk with the weight of him on you and in you and all around like you'll never be alone again. "So tight for me, baby. Didn't think you would be so fuckin' sweet." You moan together as he hits a particularly satisfying spot, your hips arching innately. That spot inside you pulses and you feel the crest of another orgasm gathering inside, a rush of endorphins waiting to be unleashed. Your arms are tucked under your chin and you pull one out, scrambling until you find his hand. He laces them together, sweaty and slippery and a perfect fit. One more rough thrust sends you over the edge, walls clenching around his cock as you sink into the mattress.

"Fuck." Simon swears. A moment later, you feel warm liquid between your thighs and hide your face in the mattress, embarrassed to be so fucking expressive. "So good, baby. There you are." He calms you with an easy tone, skin slapping as he increases his pace. A moment later he eases against you back as heated cum fills your cunt, dripping out around his cock and onto the mattress. He crushes you with his weight and all it does is make you clench your thighs.

He squeezes your hand. You squeeze back.

-

shoutout to the post i saw about prone bone i can't remember who wrote it but it was very #inspirational

yes reader is a medic bc im still obsessed w the pitt

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: nudity, suggestive but nothing happens, Konig is slightly cold and rude, shaving, reader is described as 'plump' 'chubby'. Slow burn.

3,6k words — english isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes !

You were the daughter of a model, your father in his youngers was a famous model, modelling for artists and his body was practically all over Austria, in paintings, portraits, movies, you name it! Every slightly artistic place you went he was there. He was more famous in Austria than internacionally but he was still famous, a bunch of people would recognize him even in a small country, that was sure... And you were an introvert.

You didn't liked the attention, how everyone's eyes were always on you, trying to interview you, to get into your personal life and invading your space. You never meet your mother and the fact you looked a lot like your father didn't helped, apparently, you mother was an immigrant that got deported back to her country and her DNA was nowhere to be found... So you lived all your life with your father, Anton. You were half Austrian and half whatever your mother was, you didn't looked like an stereotypical Austrian girl, that was sure but you also didn't fit any other stereotype, making your beauty unique...

One thing was sure, the few genes that were in your body from your mother made a difference. While you father was more muscular, you were more plump, chubby. You father never bodyshamed you but he did made your exercise but you could never lose the weight, you weren't unhealthy you just... Couldn't change your body and surgery was out of question, your father never needed one, why would you?

One day, you decided to try modelling. Starting at something small since you didn't liked the spotlights, you model for a local clothes store that were looking for bigger model and just your last name made them immediately accept you. You just took a few photos and done, you made great money and was happy.

You decided to buy something sweet before going back home, you get inside a ice-cream parlor and orders your favorite milkshake and some donuts. You sit down on one of the comfy pink chairs and starts eating... Then, this wall of a man walks in, he had a long wavy ginger hair, a tired expression and glasses on, he was handsome, you can't deny it. He orders some sundae and sits down, waiting.

He takes off a sketchbook and starts sketching some poses and expressions. You decides to be nosy and peeks on it but he notices and closes the notebook, "oh sorry- I'm...I was just intrigued... Sorry." You apologizes, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable but then his sundae is ready and he stands up to grab it and then walks out of the parlor. You sigh and goes back to your donut.

You finished and just then you noticed, the man had forgotten his sketchbook. You grab it and opens it, he had a lot of drawings there, that man had so much talent, hot and smart? That's your type. His signature was almost unreadable but you can make a few letter out of it and assumes its something along the lines of 'König'... Well, king. You assume it's just a nickname, a bunch of artists has those artistic names just to be easily recognized and such. You liked how that sounds, 'König'...

You grabbed his sketchbook and starts walking around the city, looking for him but you couldn't find him anywhere, he could've took an Uber and already be in another city and you were there, with his random guy sketchbook... You take a closer look and finds at one of the last pages, 'If lost — call (xxxxxxxx)' and then a phone number. You dial the number on your cellphone and after a few seconds, it's accepted.

"Hello?" "Hello, hm... Is this König?" "Ja." You gulps, this man had only spoke two words and you were already falling in love with his deep voice.

"Uh... You were at the ice cream parlor earlier and you forgot your sketchbooks, I'm waiting here on front of it, I'm with it." You explains and it goes silent for a while. "Scheisse..." Then, he hangs out, leaving you confused. You assume he's coming, so you stay there.

...

You get distracted by your phone, spending time on whatever social media you were until you heard a raspy voice behind you, "Hey." You jump in surprise, looking at the guy behind... It was the big guy, "oh hey..." You replies and he reaches out for the sketchbook, in which you give him.

You two stare at each other until you can see him frowning under the mask, "You're... Anton's daughter?" He questions and you nods, his eyes widen slightly. "Mein gott... You're identical to him." He says, a bit amazed, you were beautiful but he thought you would be somewhere else, at a fancier ice cream parlor, where the ice creams would be so expensive a commoner like him wouldn't never even feel the sweet taste of the cold dessert... But you were in front of him, at a mediocre at best ice cream parlor, looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

"Everyone says that, you're not the first." You spoke, smiling up at him. "Oh by the way, what's your name? I saw here that is König but-" "Call me that." "Uh?" "König... My name is König." He interrupts you a few times, making you chuckles. "Well... You aleady know my name." You replies and he nods, "Who doesn't?" He jokes and laughs softly, making you giggle.

You look up at him. He wasn't an ugly guy, no, he was quite handsome actually, his smile was even prettier, the scar on his lips was such a charm and his tired eyes were so hypnotizing... You noticed you were staring for too long and looks back down, blushing slightly, getting embarrassed. "Sorry- I-i...I'm just intrigued, you're so tall and big." You excuses, gesturing confused, trying to explain yourself. He shakes his head, "I don't care." He says, a bit harshly, "I need to go, delete my number. Bye." He starts walking away before you could say goodbye back and question why he wanted you to delete his number... But you do as what he asked.

⚝

A few weeks passed by after the unusual encounter with the scary big artist guy at the ice cream parlor. You went to that same ice cream parlor practically everyday after modeling but he never came back.

One day, you were walking in the park, just looking around, petting some cats here and there, watching the ducks swimming and then you notice that same guy, with a canvas, painting the lake with the duck. He had his hair tied back this time, he notices you at the other side of the lake and looks at you for a moment before going back to the canvas. You quietly approached him, you weren't the only one watching him paint, 2 or 3 more people watching, one of them with a child but you were the only one there when he finished, at 6pm.

He stares at it. He doesn't look like someone that likes what he sees as he frowns slightly. "I think it looks good." You steps in, looking at the painting, a gentle breeze passing by, making you shiver, "oh, I forget how cold Austria can be sometimes..." You says, a bit embarrassed. He doesn't even look at you as he keeps eyeing the canvas, trying to figure how what he did wrong. He stares at it for a few minutes until it clicked... The ducks, he forgot the ducks but it was already late and he had to come back tomorrow to try again. He starts packing his thing while you rambled, he wasn't even paying attention. He walks away without looking at you.

"Rude..." You sighs and whispers to yourself until another cold breeze comes and you start running back home desperately.

Your father was at the living room when you got back home, "You forgot your hoodie?" He says, not taking the eyes out of the book he was reading, "I didn't know it would be that cold today." You replies. "It was all over the news, tonight it's a snow night." Your father says and before you could reply, he interrupts, "The bathtub it's filled with warm water, go take a shower, you smell bad." He complains. You rolls your eyes and goes to the bathroom.

You grab your cellphone before stepping into the bathtub, you always liked listening to music while cleaning yourself — even if your father complained —, you put on your favorite playlist but then, you receive a message. It was the clothe store you modelled for the last time.

"Hey, are you free next weekend? We need you to model some new skirts, shirts and sweaters for our winter season." It reads, you reply with a 'yes' and they send you the informations about the time and place.

⚝

The week passed by like a minute and it was already the weekend. You got ready for the photoshoot, took a shower, the hairstylists fixed your hair and you went to try on the new clothes, they were cute and really warm, the skirts had warm shorts sew on them, making a good job on protection and keeping the person warm, the sweaters were cute and really, really warm, the long sleeved shirts had a cute print on it. The photoshoot was at the park, they closed an area of the park so you could take the photos, you were really nervous since a lot of people were watching you pose and the snow was making everything harder, the cameraman having to often clean the lenses even with the lense protection because the thin snow was getting underneath it.

Everything went well, the photos were pretty, you were amazing and the clothes were ready to be sold, you even got a few of them! You were getting ready to leave the park when someone approached you... It was the big guy from a few days ago. He just... Stared at you, he hands you a paper and then walk away, he didn't even ran, he just... Simply, walked away, leaving you confused.

You opened the paper and it was... A bunch of sketches of the poses you were making during the photoshoot and a big sketch of you, even the smallest detail of the skirt and oh god, how did he made the sweater look so comfy with just a bunch of lines? Your eyes were practically shining, impressed by the amount of details. You noticed a phone number on the back of the paper, 'call me.' it says. You think for a moment and puts the paper on your backpack carefully.

⚝

It was 10pm when you got home, exhausted. The day was filled with you and the editor of the magazine of the clothe store, he was a new guy there and was always asking for your feedback, the only problem was that he talked a lot! He was talented, amazing, but he just couldn't shut up for a minute and you had to listen to his annoying rambling for hours to the point you started having a headache.

When you got home, you took some headache meds and took a warm shower, cleaned your hair and put on your pajamas. You practically jumped on the bed, the warm temperature of your room making you immediately fall asleep.

⚝

You woke up at 7am Went to the kitchen and you found a note, from your father, 'I went to Mödling, gonna meet a woman. Take care of yourself. There's money on my room, be safe and smart.' it wrote. You rolls your eyes and sighs, your father was always like this, went to another place, minutes, hours or even days away just to meet someone, it always annoyed you but you couldn't do anything, you're in your 20s and he was in his 50s, changing him wasn't easy and he absolutely loved his car, you think he loves that car more than he loves you... But at 7am?! He was crazy.

Anyway, you made some breakfast for yourself, something simple as you were just going to stay at home today. You were planning to just lay around and watch TV the whole day, you really wanted to watch that new series on Netflix... But then you remembered the paper the big guy gave you and the number on it. You decided to message him while you ate, not really thinking he would answer you, it was 7am after all...

'Hey, it's Anton's daughter, the model girl :) how are you?' you sends and then goes back to eating.

It took a few minutes but he texted back, 'hey'... Dry and simple as always. You two texted for a few minutes until he eventually went straight to the point.

'i need a model and I saw you at the park, you're perfect for what i want to do, how much do you ask for an hour?' He sends, you were taken by surprise, he wants you to model for him? Yeah, sure, whatever, that's what it's paying for bills for a long time now. 'how much are you willing to pay?' '€30/hour.' you think for a moment, €30 is fine but you don't know how long it is going to take... So you ask. 'How long it would take?' '4-5 hours.' oh wow, that was a quick response, he probably already has all your questions answered and you're just wasting your time now.

'when and where?' 'today at 10am, at the local museum, i have a room for myself there, it has cameras, you can call a friend if you want if it makes your feel safer with me, I just want to get my work done.' another quick response, you send him a thumbs up and he answered with an 'okay'.

You finished eating, washed the dishes, did your bed, organized the living room and took a shower, you don't often shave but you decided to shave your legs, arms and armpits. Exfoliating your skin gently and then using the soft razor that was like a massage on your skin, soft and gentle, then moisturizing with a cream for post-shave that smelled so good you were addicted.

It was 9:40am, you got dressed with something simple, simple jeans short, a white shirt and some comfortable shoes and socks, everything so simple that if someone saw you at the streets they couldn't even know your dad is one of the most famous men in Austria. You got into your bike and starts riding to the museum while listening to some music.

You arrived at the museum at 9:57am, took off your headphones and headed inside, König was there, waiting for you. You two looked at each other. "Hey." You says and he motions for you to follow him. He leads you to a backroom, filled with art supplies such as empty canvas, paints, a bunch of brushes, chair and such.

He takes a deep breath, "take off your clothes." He says, shocking you. Like, you don't even know his real name and he wants to see you naked?... Yeah, sure, that's what being a model means. You nods and takes off your clothes, staying on your bra and panties. He stares at your body for a moment but it doesn't look like he's looking at you lustful or like something sexual but rather as something to be studied and adored. He nods and explains you how to pose.

He sits you in the edge of a chair, putting your hands on your knees, 'the palms down' he repeats, tilting your head a bit to the left side, letting your hair fall in your shoulders, placing the right leg over the left one and arching your spine a bit.

After 40 minutes or so, you couldn't tell the time, you started to get bored, he wasn't talking to you and making small talk was useless, that man was concentrated and didn't want to talk. "Hey." You say and he doesn't even look at you, "hey... Heeey!!" He then looks at you, sounding a bit frustrated, "what?" "Can you turn the TV on? I'm bored." He sighs and turns on the TV, putting on a random sitcom. It was good, too good, you starts chuckling and giggling at the bad jokes, smiling and probably ruining the neutral expression he wanted you to keep.

He shakes his head, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He commented, not leaving his eyes out of you and the canvas. "It's not everyday i pose practically naked for an artist i met at an ice cream parlor." You answered and he even smiles a bit.

"Thats true." He replies and continues on the painting, after a few minutes, you opened your mouth again. "Do you work with your art?" You asks, he nods, "I do commissions, people pay me to paint then and I have my own little exhibition on the museum." He replies, brushing the canvas talentedly, seeming a bit more good humored.

"Do you paint a lot of naked people or is it just me?" You asks, smiling and König laughs a bit. "I've had my fair share of naked paintings, you're not the first one and probably not the last." He laughed but it didn't last long until his cold expression came back. His expressions change so quickly it's actually impressive.

⚝

You were getting tired, your butt was hurting of sitting down on that goddamn chair for so long and your hand was itching and the sitcom was getting bored, how long has it passes? 2 hours, 3 hours? Before you could fall asleep, König speaks, "We are gonna do a pause now, it's..." He looks at the clock, "It's 1pm, I'm gonna get us some lunch. Put your back on if you wish." He stated and put the brush and palette he was using on the table next to the canvas. You grab your clothing and puts it back on, it was good to put your clothes back on, you stepped outside and... Oh, it was snowing again and you didn't had your hoodie with you, damn.

You followed König to a cafeteria, it was a simple and cute little place with not a lot of people and a cheap selfservice. You got just spaghetti and orange juice and König... His plate was a mess, honestly, and he was drinking water. You decided to start some small talk, "How old are you?" You ask. "32." He replied, more focused on eating than answering you, you nodded, taking the hint that he doesn't want to talk but at least now you know his age. And you two got back to the museum after eating at 1:40pm.

⚝

Hours passed by like a minute and all of a sudden, he was finished with the painting and you were tired and it was just 5pm! He grabbed the canvas to the outside to dry while you put your clothes back on and drank some water. You went outside to the garden, where he was with the painting and you finally got a look at the canva... It was amazing, beautiful, you were mesmerized, your eyes shining but then, the cold breeze hits you again, slapping you out of your state, "Oh, shit-" you complained, hugging yourself to keep warm.

König looks at you and sighed, he approached you and took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, "I'll take you home. It's not safe to ride a bike in the snow." He says and leads you outside, you nods and follows him, putting on his warm jacket. He opens the car's door to you, what a gentleman.

You tell him his address and he starts driving, the bike on the car trunk, the warmer of the car keeping you two warm and a music coming out of the radio. It took a few minutes to get home and you the two of you got there, what was just a simple snow turned into a snow storm, you didn't thought twice when you insisted to visit him inside... But he refused.

"I can go home. I'll be fine." He insisted, "No, c'mon, I'll make some coffee for us, I- "I said no." He says, as cold as the snow, he walks away like the first time you two meet at the ice cream parlor. You were frustrated, all of that, he saw you naked, he payed for your food, he drove you home and he wouldn't let you return the favor? "Rude!" You shouts and he turns back to you, looking a you frowning, "What's wrong with you? I just want to help! It's a snow storm, you're gonna get stuck in the snow! Let me return the favor, König!" You shouts, the sound of the wind muffling your voice slightly. He seemed to think for a moment when he starts walking back to you and get inside your house.

König took a deep breath and looks at you as you locked the door and took off your shoes. "Why?" He asks and you looks up at him, "what-" "Why are you helping me? Why do you care?" He interrupts, sounding a bit desperate, damn, who hurt this man? "I couldn't let you freeze outside, you'd die." You replies, turning on the warmer. It was just 6:30pm and you were hungry and delivery was out off limit so you would have to cook. He nods and sits down on the couch, looking nervous.

You went to the kitchen and starts to cut some vegetables, he quietly walks behind you, "can I help?" He offered his help and you give him the meat, "Cut it, season it with salt and add it to the oil in the frying pan." You practically ordered, focused on the vegetables. He does as you asked, you two talk while cooking and you discovered a few things about him. He was single, served the army for 10 years, was an only child and was allergic to peanuts and some other things. His smile was beautiful and his long hair falling on his broad shoulders was so handsome... He was handsome!

You and König sat down to eat looking at each other, "Hm- you put too much salt on the meat." You commented and he smiles, "sorry." He apologizes. You two eat mostly in silence and it was already 7:50pm when the plates were empty and the dishes were clean. You helped König organize the guest room for him, finally fixing the broken warmer of the room with his help, you gave him a disposable toothbrush and grabbed a few clothes from your dad so König could shower.

It was 9:20pm, König was sleeping and you were on your room... Feeling a warm sensation on your chest, it was love, it was obvious but you don't know if he loves you back, he was so hard to understand, difficult to read. You took a deep breath and tried to relax, you fell asleep after some long minutes.

⚝

You woke up at 8am and went to the living room, you saw König getting ready to leave. He looks at you, "Hey." He says, "Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight." He added, you nods. You approached him and gives him a hug, "Be safe out there, okay?" You says and he returns the hug, in a bold movement, he kisses you forehead and smiles, "Bye... Can you open the door?" You nods, blushing slightly, you open the door and steps ouside, the snow practically melted, he waves at you and smiles, "Bye!" You waves back, smiling and blushing. You close the door and sighs happily, your heart beating fast, your face red and a dumb smile on your face.

Well, you have things to do, so it's best to forget him for now. For now.

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Askbox is open!

haven’t seen one for gaz yet and i do NOT tolerate gaz erasure

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝²

pt1

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: König is younger than canon, pistol mentioning, idk this is just fluff. Chubby reader. Extensive description of how to make a condensed milk cake. Maybe a bit out of character.

3,7k words — English isn't my first language, i apologize for any mistakes.

Since that day, you and König have been talking practically every day through the cellphone, König would often talk about his day and his new projects, sending you photos of the new paintings he was working on and recently, he started a new hobby: learn digital art. He would send you screenshots of his drawings, they were... Certainly something, it wasn't as great because he was used to work on a canvas with paint and such but, he was trying at least.

If he disappeared for 3-4 hours, you were sure he was just working on whatever his mind was thinking of, painting, digital art or even ceramic, yeah, he also started ceramic. He was trying to occupy his mind with something and it was obvious... You just didn't know he was trying to occupy his brain because you were everything in his mind.

König was having trouble painting because he couldn't focus on anything but you, his happiness was texting you everyday and looking at the selfies you send him anytime you were doing something mildly interesting, watching a movie, cooking, baking, oh god, baking, he could kill someone to taste those brownies you baked practically every weekend. He really wanted to ask you out on a date but he didn't have the guts to, you were such a pretty girl, who was he to think he had a chance with such a beautiful girl?

On your side... Well, it was the same. You were too shy to ask him out on a date, he was such a busy guy, he was painting and when he wasn't painting he was training his digital art and when he wasn't training he was doing ceramic, you didn't want to bother him. Your heart skips a beat every time he sends a photo of what he was working on, his face wasn't even on the photos but you were so in love it didn't even take too much to make you kick your feet and smile like a fool...

"Who are you talking to?" Suddenly, your father kicked you out of your thoughts, he was frowning and trying to peek on your phone as you were eating. You were already an adult but old habits never die to your father.

"M...my friend, his name is König." You reply, showing him the conversation, Anton takes a look and nods. "Your boyfriend?" He asks, you blushes slightly and shakes your head, "N-no, he's just a friend." You stutter. He gives you a look like 'yeah, sure' and then goes back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen to finish your lunch.

You didn't have anything to do that day. You wanted to go out with your friends but they were all busy, you didn't have a photoshoot today, no modeling or something, so you would just enjoy the day, just being lazy... So you decided to bake a cake! Why not?

You looked for a recipe on the internet and found one you found interesting, 'Condensed Milk Cake'... Hmm, sounds good! And you have all the ingredients, luckily.

You grab the apron that was probably too old for its own good and protect your hair and start making the cake, it was therapeutic. In a large bowl, you pour the condensed milk, whisk in butter and the vanilla extract, over the bowl, sift four and the baking powder over the condenser milk mixture. After that, you grab the rice cooker, grease the interior with butter and pour in the batter, spreading it evenly in the rice cooker, you decide to top with some chocolate chips, put the cover on and cook for 20 minutes. After waiting, you pick a toothpick and poke the cake, it comes out clean so it means it is ready! You place a plate on top of the rice cooker pot and carefully invert. The scent of vanilla and condensed milk infested the kitchen. It was so good, you were proud of yourself, it looked delicious!

Your father walks in the kitchen, "What are you doing?" He asks, frowning slightly before he sees the cake, "Oooh, it looks good. Gimme a slice." He picks a knife and goes to cut the cake but oh no, your father didn't have the reputation of being the best cake cutter.

"Waaaaait!" You shouts, trying to stop him but your father was a man on a mission. He cuts a huge part out of the cake and walks away, you can practically see the evil smile on his face as he goes to his room, leaving you with less than a half of the cake... Goddamnit.

You sigh and decide to take a photo of the... Half cake you have, you grab your phone and try to get the best angle of it but yeah, a cake cut in half wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing thing ever.

Eating a slice of the cake while watching something was a pleasing experience at least, watching some old humoristic sitcom your father had on DVD since the 90s that he refused to get rid of was nice at best. You hear a notification coming from your phone and check it... It was König!

'Hallo, are you free tonight? I would be pleased to have dinner with you.'

You found it amusing how he always wrote it grammatically correctly, you could've never, sometimes you just forget how to write some words.

'Yeah, I'm free! Where do u wanna meet?'

'Meet me at the park, I am going to take you to the restaurant from there, at 7pm. Don't be late.'

You smile, he was always so assertive and direct sometimes, it was nice though, at least he wasn't confused about what he wanted and treated you well.

You start getting ready at 5pm, showering, doing your makeup, choosing the best clothing, fixing your hair, airdrying it and, oh god it's already 6:56pm! You run out of the house, forgetting to bring your lip oil.

You go to the park and look around for König, it was 7:04pm. You feel a cold hand on your shoulder, looking over your shoulder...

"Oh, hi Kö! How are you?" It was König! He didn't seem mad at you, good. He smiles and gives you a little pat on the head.

"I'm fine. Let's go to my car." Simple as ever. He takes your hand and leads you to the car, opening the car door for you. You two make small talk in the car on the way to the restaurant. He was wearing some nice clothes, a white button shirt that was rolled up to his elbow, black tailored pants with a belt and black shoes. It was minimalistic and he looked good on it. You could see some scars on his arms, that was interesting, maybe he wasn't always an artist.

The restaurant was nice, had a warm atmosphere and some relaxing jazz music playing. You order some alfredo pasta and chicken with some orange juice, he orders steak with onion, rice, salad, some rustic potatoes and... You lost track of the list after that, he was a bottomless pit. Oh, he ordered some apple juice for himself too.

"So, what do you like to do in your free time? When you're not doing paintings and such." You were the one to start the conversation, noticing that Konig was more of the quiet type and that, depending on him, the date would be mostly silence and eating.

"I enjoy... Uh... I enjoy television shows, I watch it when I'm... I'm not doing art..." He stuttered, not looking at you directly, you noticed that he was very nervous, his hands shaking, it was very different from the man you met before. Maybe you were starting to get under his shell.

Your soft smiles didn't help much. His mind was going a mile a second, his hand shaking and his body couldn't relax, he felt like everyone was staring at him, why wouldn't they? He's on a date with a cute girl while he looks like this giant freak, you probably don't even like him, you're just with him because you pity him youcangetsometingbetterthanhimyou—

"König?" Your soft voice slaps him out of his trance, his eyes focusing on your worried expression, "Are you okay? You seem... I don't know—" "I'm fine." He cuts you off, his hands still fidgeting underneath the table.

You were a bit confused and even a little shocked. He was so serious, confident before and now he's shaking like a wet cat. Well, he's trying to hide it but it's obvious, someone his size can't hide. You decide it's best to let him relax, stay silent for a while, let him recompose.

Well... His brain was going miles an hour, waiting for YOU to say something, to talk about something YOU like, maybe you could even forget he's there and just ramble away his anxiety... But that doesn't happen. He's waiting for you to talk and you're waiting for him to speak. Both so awkward, his anxious behavior getting into you, where you are scaring him? Why? What have you done? Did you do something that made him uncomfortable? Doeshenotlikeyouanymore-

Then, the waiter arrives after what felt not even a second, you swear you had just ordered not even 10 minutes ago. The waiter places your order in front of him and two of König's extensive list of food, the potatoes and the beef. The orange juice being placed in the middle for the both of you.

He awkwardly starts cutting his beef, the cutlery was so small in his hands that it made a task as simple as cutting a steak difficult. You eat your pasta, staring at nowhere as your mind is non stop thinking that you did something wrong. You both reached for the orange juice glass, his fingers touching yours before he flinched his hand away, just reassuring that he was scared of you on your worried brain.

The rest of the date was... Not cozy, just two looked like two pathetic wet cats that didn't know where their mama went and was scared of the world. He pays for everything, even if you insisted that you had money. You two step out of the restaurant, some significant distance from each other, and just... Staying there, waiting for the one another to say something.

"Look-" "I'm sorry-" You two speak up at the same time, eyes meeting in an anxious atmosphere, silence remains for a few seconds. "Hear-" "I apologize-" Interrupting one another again, the atmosphere getting tenser and tenser, you both take a deep breath, taking a step closer to each other. He let you talk first.

"I'm sorry, I'm not aware of what I did but I apologize for making you uncomfortable." You speak up, playing with the hem of your clothes as you try to sound not nervous.

He frowns slightly before sighing and nodding, "I'm the problem. You're not the problem, I've always been this... Social awkward, since I was a teenager. It's not your fault." He reassures, taking a step closer... Closer... Closer until he's right in front of you. He looks at you... "It's going to snow, you should go home." Before he lifts your chin and gives you a forehead kiss...

Then he turns around and walks away, you don't know that but he's panicking inside, his hands shaking and his heart beating like a drum, his face red as a tomato... That man saw you naked and is flustered because he gave you a forehead kiss! Men...

Well, you were blushing too, your mouth opened slightly in shock... The snow starts to fall, the cold feeling makes you feel even hotter inside, it has just started. You didn't know what to do so you do the same as him, you turn around and walk home... No, you can't do that. You stop in your tracks, turn back and start running towards him.

"König!" You shouts, making him stop and turn to see you. You don't know what you're doing and why but you feel like you need to do this. You reach him, panting, you weren't used to exercising. "I'm- I'm-" "You don't need to be sorry, it's okay." He cuts you off.

"No, that's not it, I-i... I-" You look up at him and you just... Can't finish your phrase, he's so handsome your heart beats and your brain stops.

He smiles softly and ruffles your already messy hair, "You shouldn't stay outside, you're gonna catch a cold... Wanna go to my place?" He speaks up, and honestly, he's being too damn bold, his heart feels like it's gonna explode out of his chest, he's trying to keep this cool guy persona but... That's not him.

You definitely didn't want to freeze outside so... "Y-yeah, sure." You nod. He takes your hand and starts walking to his car. This all feels too... Unbelievable... Damn, you're going to a guy's house after the first date? What are you? You silently judge yourself but König isn't like other guys... You hope.

The car ride back to his place was silent, some random song in German playing on the radio. His car was fine, definitely not the best or the most expensive but also not the cheapest, it was a nice car that had the necessary to live. When arriving at his place, the snow was already filling the streets with its soft whiteness, he opens the door and gets inside after you. The place was... Nice? It was a bit messy but it was comfortable.

"Make yourself at home. The TV has a little sound problem but nothing that will bother you, I'm going to take a shower, there's a few snacks in the drawers in the kitchen if you feel hungry." He welcomes you, giving you a faint smile before going to his bedroom.

You look around... Should you explore? Yeah, why not? As soon as the shower starts, you begin to wander around the house. The drawers were filled with snacks and the fridge with water, milk and egg... Nothing else. How did this man lived? Whatever. You go to the living room and turns on the TV, putting on your favorite show, yeah, the sound definitely has a problem but your ears would probably get used to it, it was some sort of faint static it could be heard on the background but whatever. As you wander through the house, the drawer closes to the door catches your eye, you open it and... A pistol and a dog tag. Your eyes widen slightly but then you frown, you take the dog tag and before you can read anything in it, a hand rips the dog tag from yours, your heart falls, your face going pale.

You gulped and looked at König, his face was dark, his eyes filled with disappointment, your eyes immediately went back to the drawer, not wanting to look at him, your hands shaking. He sighs and throws the dog tag back in the drawer and closes it. "Forgot to lock it."

You two stay silent for a while, before you murmur an "Sorry." Nervously. He shakes his head, "Don't be. It's okay to be curious... Just don't do it again." His voice was deep and dark, like if he was giving an order...

"... I'm gonna order some pizza. We can watch a movie, c'mon." He tries to sound more excited as he pulls you by the waist, leading you to the couch. You were still shocked, but trying to relax as you do breathing exercises. He tried to make small talk but you were still thinking about the pistol and the dog tag...

The pizza arrives not long after, he picks it up and goes back to the couch, placing the pizza on top of the living room mini table and putting on some movie on Netflix.

The silence was uncomfortable, the pizza munching sounds not helping. After half an hour, he pauses the movie and looks at you. "I have to explain something to you." He says in a serious tone. You look back at him and gulps, nodding.

He takes a deep breath, "I used to be a soldier, a lieutenant. I was in the army from 17 to 29, almost 30. I retired earlier because of my mental health, it was killing me from the inside." He puts his hand on his chest, "I had no choice. I've done a lot of things that shouldn't have been done and I regret it with my heart."

"You're... A war criminal...?" You ask, the tone quiet and uncertain. He shakes his head, "No... No, not that I'm aware at least." He chuckles nervously, looking away, "I've... Killed a lot of men. My hands are filled with blood... But I've never wanted it, I never wanted to be a soldier, to kill people. I've always loved art, and I'm doing what I want, what I love now and I can't escape my past, it doesn't matter where I go. My soldier self is part of me, I can't get away from it." He vents, his tone getting sadder and more self aware.

You nod, taking a breath and sighing, "I don't know how it feels, how it is to have such a hard backstory... Are you in therapy at least?" You ask and he nods, "I take meds.. I don't want to talk about it."

Nodding, you sigh, "I understand... I'm sorry for sneaking in your things, I shouldn't have done that." You clench your fists and look at your lap, feeling trapped, disappointed at yourself... Until, he takes your chin and lifts your face to look at him. "It's okay." He says, softer, making your heart beat faster. He gets closer... Closer... Closer, until your lips touch his. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiles on the kiss and takes you closer by your waist until your legs are on his lap. The kiss is soft, like a make-up kiss, warm.

You were the one to break the kiss, your eyes meeting his... And he panics, "Oh verdammt— es tut mir leid— I'm sorry, you're just so pretty and I'm so awkward, I'm-" He freaks out, immediately taking his hands out of your waist. You smile and giggle.

"It's okay, I liked it." You take him by the cheek, making him look at you. "You- you did?" He asks, not believing you. You nod and smile, "Yeah." "Y-yeah?" "Hell yeah!" You giggles and kisses him, you taking the lead now. This one was much more playful than intense as the last one, you break the kiss a few times because you were giggling and he starts giggling too. He pulls you closer as he lays down on the couch, you getting on top of him. You two start laughing, apparently for no reason at all.

After relaxing, you two just cuddled, he was warm and you even warmer due to your weight. It was comfortable and the closeness was making the heart of the both of you relax. Him giving you forehead kisses from time to time. "Hey... You wanna sleep here?" He asks and you nod, "Sure, why not."

The night falls and you were used to showering before sleeping and you definitely needed one... But you had no clothes to wear! He was okay with sharing the bed with you and you didn't want to smell bad. So you asked for some of his clothes, he at first laughed but then gave you a shirt and some boxers.

For some reason, the water of his shower was freezing cold and had no heating option, so poor you. His shirt was bigger than your, that was rare, that never happened with your exes, it was nice to now have someone that was bigger than you, it makes your heart warm... and the boxers a bit loose but fitted better than the shirt, you put your hair on a bun with a satin scrunchie and go to lay with him. The heater was on so that was nice. "Goodnight." You tell him before he turns off the lights and lays next to him.

..."Can we cuddle? You're warm and I like your weight on top of me..." He asks a bit shyly, your heart beating faster. You look at him and nod, snuggling closer to him, he pulls you closer, getting you slightly on top of him. "Goodnight." "Night..." And you both fall asleep.

When you woke up he was already up. You stretch and yawn, going to the kitchen after fixing your hair (or trying) and he was already there, eating his breakfast. His eyes light up as he sees you, "Morning. I made breakfast! Eat!" He says, sounding excited. You smile and join him, it wasn't the best but it was good enough.

You two spend the afternoon together, watching movies, chatting, playing in the snow. At night, you were ready to go home. He drives you to your place, and in the door, he kisses you goodbye.

You get in the house, very happily, smiling widely and your father notices, he smirks. "Just a friend, uh?" He teases and you chuckle. "Boyfriend now, dad." You correct him playfully and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew it.”

Sorry, this took too long!! I was in a creativity block and didn't know what to do but i hope this is fun to read!!! Love yall, stay safe, xoxo from Kel. Feel free to send me asks!

Cann, we get more chubby!reader x artist!könig please 🙏

I might write some drabbles before the part 2 is up, what would you like to see? Don't be shy!

For the requests !

Characters that I write for:

- Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz

- König, Valeria, Alejandro, Rudy

- Keegan, Logan, Hesh

- Graves, Farah, Makarov

What I write for:

- female, gn and male reader

- Fluff, angst and smut

- AUs (hybrid, alien etc)

What I don't write for:

- Offensive themes, fluid related kinks (scat, piss, etc), p3do

what if john's wife wasnt so into poly?

tw: murder and kidnapping, bloody

"don't ya remember what I said last time lovie?" all you can do it stare at the man who haunts you, wandering down the halls he should no longer have access to. Your breathing turns rapid as you peek the liquid red ribbons that begin to trickle down the wall.

"We can't let ya go, can't be without our girl, boys have been missin' ya". His voice is devoid of anything trace of emotion, you wondered if this was a mission to him. Your wide eyes are glued to the corpse, his feet at the corner of the bed and as he lifts you up it reveals more and more, you had held hope he'd still survive but that fire is soon put out, your heart dropping and bile builds as you see the aftermath. red liquid piles on the now saturated rug, stained pink.

He stops, instead of tucking you away or covering your eyes, he lets you see it, a warning, letting you soak the scene in and when you pull your eyes away from it, a harsh tug to your hair doesn't let you. he wants you to take in every blood splatter and grey matter smeared against the wall, your lover looks like a rotten mushroom, flesh hanging lose around where bone structure should be.

"not lookin' aye? I reckon I found his brain, surprise enough its not in his ass." his boot kicks the body revealing more cruelty.

"you didn't have to do this." your voice cracks and rasp, desperate to keep the tears at bay but it doesnt do anything good, soon tears slide down your cheeks, you body shudders as it chokes on sobs.

The bun you wore to bed is gathered in his fist, hes able to yank and tug as though he was a puppet master. After you've studied the now concave head and the too many to count stab wounds. His grip soon vanishes and you float out the room, tucked in his arms.

you feel like a traitor as you find yourself seeking out comfort, nestling into the neck of the man who just came into your home and murdered your 2nd chance at love.

"your suppose to be with us, lovie." there it is, the gruff, this hurts me more than it hurts you. "can't let ya think you can do this shit to me, im your husband, til death 'n all that shite, you made a vow to me."

"just count yer self lucky I didnt let simon do this, he was eager to get ya back." your stomach twists at the thought, you'd have to face them, simon was as loyal as a dog to price, you can only dread how his teeth will come down on you and tear you apart.

okay but delivery driver könig who’s always picked to do the large deliveries (appliances, furniture, bulk items) meeting you…

he’s at his favorite stop, an animal shelter where the nice old lady who’s in charge just tells him where to put the giant sacks of kibble, signs the release form, and quickly sends him on his way, except… linda had a dentist appointment today, and you were tasked with receiving the food. he usually hates chatty people, but when you start asking him random questions about his job as he’s unloading sack after sack of food into the storage closet, he finds himself answering, quietly, but answering all the same, for once. what really seals the deal is when you compliment him for being so strong, marveling at his arms (“wow, you could crush my head with those things!”), and now he’s ducking his head, pretending to check one of the feed bags for damage to hide the light dusting of a blush on his face, even though the black surgical mask he wears hides it pretty well…

needless to say, suddenly you’re very interested in taking over linda’s package duty and könig’s rushing through any other deliveries to have time to linger at the shelter, unloading each sack as s l o w as possible to talk with you for longer. <3

soap x reader —> ghoap x reader content: (consensual) cuckolding, size kink, gn!reader

When you start dating John it takes no time for you to fall into bed with him. He’s military, life is short, he would have waited but good god he looked so good that night, rain soaked him as he grinned like a mad lad. And a relationship with John is easy, he’s chill, likes to see the lads, even brought you around to meet Simon.

You’d thought the other man hadn’t liked you, barely talking to you the whole night to the point you felt suffocated with disapproval. Until you’re all getting up to leave. He places his big mitt on the top of your head and you can tell from the way the corner of his eyes crinkle that he’s smiling behind the black disposable mask he hadn’t taken off, simply pushed up to drink his pint. 

“Picked a good’un, Johnny,” his deep voice feels like it vibrates through your body.

You’re beaming as he shuffles out, and when you look to joke that you guess he did like you, you notice that John’s neck is turning red, heat rising up through his shoulders and to his face as he looks down at you with pure lust. 

You don’t make it home, pants shucked down in the backseat of the car as he fucks you like a dog, panting heavily into your ear while he calls you his good pup, coos how happy he is, that he loves ya.

You don’t think much of it, happy to have gotten fucked so thoroughly.

Then he starts getting a little funny, the porn he’ll put on starts being threesomes, toys are gradually getting bigger, he buys more lube. 

Again you don’t think too much of it. If he wants a threesome, surely he’ll say something. 

It’s after almost a week of cuck porn that he asks if you’ll let Simon fuck you. Please, for him, for his birthday. You worry that it’ll be awkward for him, but… but that approval Simon had given you had turned you on. 

So you agree. 

For his birthday.

It’s a whole day affair. Simon shows up in the morning, passing John a small box and tells him to open it. 

The cock cage is cute, pink. On Simon’s orders, he has you putting it on your boyfriend before he has you on your knees, taking him as far down your throat as you can as Johnny watches. 

Simon calls you a good puppy, praises your abilities, dark eyes never looking away from yours even as you start tearing up as you try to take him even further, pushing past your gag reflex.

Then his thick fingers open you.

He has you sit on his cock on the sofa, whining the whole time as you’re faced with John, face, neck, and chest ruddy as he watches the whole thing. He asks Simon how you feel, and the blonde doesn’t hold back. He tells him how warm and snug you are, how he can tell Johnny’s been working you open for him. How he’s the only person who’s ever gonna be allowed to fuck your holes now.

You watch John’s milky cum spurt out of his cage.

The next morning, Simon’s still there, lounging as he drinks milk straight from the jug.

Congrats on your new boyfriend. 

Don’t worry, Johnny’s still there. It’s just that Simon is too now.

Precious Flower

Vladimir Makarov x Inexperienced!Virgin!Reader

cw: housewife kink, breeding kink, makarov is an asshole and a softie at the same time, kinda toxic relationship, forced marriage, p in v, misogynistic makarov if you squint, he's mean :(, rough sex, virgin inexperienced reader, unprotected sex

Makarov had everything he wanted — power, strength, money and loyal soldiers but there was one thing he wanted the most —, a wife.

He grew up in a very unstable household, his father used to yell at his mother for everything and his mother would yell back, they were both abusive to each other, he still remembers the day his mother threatened to poison his father, she was the one that cooked after all and how his father yelled names at her.

He didn't wanted that... Well, he doesn't want a woman that stands for herself, that's it. So he got you — an young inexperienced thing from a poor family that had more mouths than they could feed and wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible for some good money —, he knew it was illegal but he doesn't care, he's a terrorist after all.

You were such a shy, scared thing and Makarov didn't quite helped. While exploring his house (that apparently was your house too now), you accidentally found a secret room at the basement, full of guns, knives and gear and when he found you there, he basically dragged you upstairs and told you not to go there again.

Makarov just wanted three things when he gets back home — food, shower and some pussy — You always prepare his favorite meal each time he came back. Filled the bathtub with warm water and soap. But the last one you were always reluctant so the far it went was some blowjob. But today, he was determined to finally get inside of you, he was your husband after all, he deserves it.

After a long deployment, he gets home at night, approximately 8pm, he was tired, hungry, stinky and horny. "дорогой, where are you?" He calls out when he steps inside the house. "Here!" You shout back and he follows your voice, finding you cooking.

He, still in gear and dirty, hugs you from behind, pressing his cock against you, you can feel it, of course you can. "Mhm... What are you preparing?" He whispers in your ear. "It's your favorite, I can't remember that name..." You answer, getting tense as you feel him basically humping against you. It's not his fault, he gets so aroused just watching you doing domestic stuff, he's a bastard.

"I'm not hungry for food." He says in a dark and lustful tone before forcefully turning off the stove and picking you up, making you scream in surprise. "Vlad-" "Just shut up." He cuts you off, going upstairs, carrying you as if you weighted nothing.

He throws you in the bed and starts taking off his gear in a hurry, you just... Watch, he was so desperate it was quite amusing, you never knew you could have this power on a man. Soon, he was just in his boxers, he was muscular, full or tattoos on his upper body and a stab wound on one of his shoulders. "See? This is the body of a man."

"uh, i-i-" "Don't stutter, my woman speaks what's in her mind." He cuts you off again, he was always like this 'my woman dresses nicely' 'my woman is always clean and showered' 'my woman always cooks for me' 'my woman sucks my cock when i ask her to' 'my woman let me grope her without complaining' 'my woman obeys'

You gulps, "I... I'm not sure if im ready, Vlad." Nervous, you look away from him. He just... Stares at you, "I'll make you be." He gets in bed and helps you take off your dress, your body so soft compared to him, no battle scar, no scary tattoo, no wound scar, so warm and safe.

He kisses you, it was desperate and wet, you were inexperienced so— "You're a bad kisser." You just nod, embarrassed. He smirks, enjoying how embarrassed you were getting and then he goes down on your body, starting by kissing your neck and marking you, with his teeth and scent, eliciting soft moans from you.

He doesn't waste time with your breasts, he just goes straight to between your legs. He practically rips off your panties, making you flinch by how aggressive he was getting. "Don't be scared, it'll just hurt more if you get scared." He starts playing with your little bundle of nerves, enjoying the reactions he was getting out of you.

"Hm... You're so wet, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" He teases and you nod, he frowns and slaps your pussy, "Speak." "Y-yes, i-" another slap, "Don't stutter." "Yes!" Another one, "Louder!" "YES!" "That's it." He smirks seeing the tears forming in your eyes, it hurt so good, so pleasurably painful.

He goes around the entrance of your pussy with his finger before inserting one, "Mhm... Are you a virgin?" He asks and you nod, "What a pity, I'm not going easy on you." He warns and inserts another finger, you were so wet it was basically sliding in and out. He was so good with his fingers, applying enough pleasure on your clit and the right amount of speed to make you see stars.

Your back arch, it didn't took long for you to orgasm, you've already played with yourself before but it was nothing compared to this. He was starting to get impatient, he takes your fingers out of inside of you and forces his fingers inside your lips, making you suck them clean.

Makarov grabs your legs and puts them in his shoulders, releasing his leaking cock from the prison that was his boxers. He wasn't that long length wise but was thick, you knew that stretch was gonna hurt. He puts the tip in, making a wave go through your body, "W-wait-" he looks at you. "What's wrong?" He frowns, "I'm-" "It hurts?" "N-no, it's that-" "Then shut up." He makes you gulp, nodding.

He inserts the rest of his cock, it wasn't long but it reached just the right places, "Черт... Ты такой узкий." (Shit, you're so tight...) He moans, your walls sucking him in. Tears roll down your eyes, it did hurt, you hug him, scratching his back as a way to relieve the pain, he seems to like that as he let out a moan.

He starts moving slowly but it didn't took long for him to get faster and harder, he was so lost in the sensation of your warm, wet insides squeezing him, his hips moving like his life depends on it. "Блядь, блять... о боже... Сними это дерьмо, я хочу увидеть твои сиськи." (Shit, shit... Oh god... Take off that shit, I want to see your tits.) He then rips off your bra and starts going faster, enjoying seeing your breasts moving as he thrust in you.

He plays with your nipple, pinching them and squeezing your boobs. You were seeing stars, it was your first time, yes it hurts, but it was so good. You cum with a loud moan and he cums not so long after, finishing inside of you. "Ты будешь выглядеть такой красивой беременной." (You'll look so beautiful pregnant.)

You two were breathless, sweaty, he falls next to you, breathing heavy. You lay next to him on your side, feeling his seed leak out of you. After a few minutes, he gets up and picks you up, going to the bathroom. You had prepared a bathtub for him for when he get back, good move.

He puts you inside and then get in, hugging you from behind. "Was i too harsh?" "No..." You answer, sleepy. He rests his head against yours, smelling your shampoo, he loved your scent, so different from yours, he smelled like cigarettes, mud, sweat and you like... Home, cozy, floral and sweet. "Did it hurt?" "A little bit..." He frowns a bit, "Tell me if it hurts, I don't want to harm you." You nod, closing your eyes, "I will..."

He cleans the both of you, soaping your body with care and covering you with a warm towel. He doesn't bother to dress the two of you, so you and him sleep naked, so close to each other, he holds you like if he let you go, you'll disappear.

Maybe he has everything he always wanted now.