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rainybubbles · 2 days

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How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian

Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)

SOAP as a firefighter :

-"911, how can I assist you today?"

-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"

-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"

-"It's... a turkey."

-"A turkey?"

-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"

-"Don't worry, help is on the way."

-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.

-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.

-You weren’t kidding, he thought.

-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.

-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.

-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."

-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."

-He chuckled.

-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."

-"Thanks," you replied.

-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.

-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.

-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.

- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.

-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.

-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.

-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.

-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.

-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.

-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.

-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.

-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."

-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."

-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.

-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.

-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."

-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.

-He grinned.

-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."

-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."

-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.

-------

GHOST as a chef :

-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious.

-You had been stood up.

-You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.

-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.

-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.

-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."

-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.

-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?

-Biting your lip, you stood up.

-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.

-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.

-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."

-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.

-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.

-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.

-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.

-"Oh."

-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.

-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.

-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.

-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."

-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."

-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.

-She smiled, and you left.

-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.

- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.

-So the next night, you baked cookies.

-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.

-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.

-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.

-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.

-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.

-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.

-Shit. Ghost was... this man?

-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.

-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.

-"Best cookies I've tasted."

-"I know you're lying."

-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."

-You chuckled.

-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."

-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."

-"You're right, but still."

-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."

-"I can send it by email."

-"I want you to taste a new dish."

-"Oh."

-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."

-"Okay," you agreed.

-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.

-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.

-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)

GAZ as a primary school teacher :

-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.

-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.

-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.

-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.

-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.

-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?

-"I see," you said, still puzzled.

-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.

-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.

-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.

-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.

-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?

-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.

-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected.

-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.

-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked

-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”

-“I thought you were running”

-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out

-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.

-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.

-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.

-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."

-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.

-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."

-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.

-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried

-“Don’t worry you were my last”

-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.

-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.

-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.

-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand.

-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.

-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.

PRICE as an uni history teacher :

-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.

-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.

-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.

- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.

- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.

-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.

-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.

- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.

-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—

-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."

-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"

-"Are you a student?" he asked.

-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.

-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."

-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.

-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.

-"How so?"

-"I’m John Price," he revealed.

-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?

-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."

-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.

-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.

-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."

-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.

NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :

-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.

-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.

-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.

-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.

-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.

-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.

-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.

-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.

-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.

-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.

-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.

-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.

-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."

-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.

-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.

- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.

-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.

-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.

-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"

-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.

-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.

-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.

- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.

-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.

-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.

-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.

-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.

-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.

-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.

-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.

-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.

-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.

-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.

-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.

ALEX as a lawyer :

-You couldn't believe your eyes.

-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!

-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?

-You knew it was iced tea.

- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.

-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.

-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.

-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.

-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.

-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.

-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.

-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.

-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."

-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.

-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.

-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.

-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.

-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.

-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.

-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.

-"You could say that," he smiled.

-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.

-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.

-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.

-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.

-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.

-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—"

-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.

-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.

-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.

-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”

-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.

-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.

-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?

KÖNIG as a baker :

-König had just opened his bakery.

- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.

- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."

-König couldn't believe his ears.

- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.

-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.

-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.

-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.

-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.

-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."

-"Hi," you replied.

-"I'm König, the—"

-"The baker," you interrupted.

-He froze.

-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.

-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.

-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"

-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.

-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.

-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"

-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.

-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.

-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.

-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.

-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.

RUDY as a librarian :

-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.

- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.

-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.

- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.

-"Need a hand?" he offered.

-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.

-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.

-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"

-"Yeah, you know him?"

-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."

-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.

-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.

-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.

-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.

-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.

-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."

-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."

-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.

-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.

-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.

-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.

-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.

-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.

-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.

-"You think so?" you questioned.

-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.

-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.

-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.

-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"

-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"

-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.

-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.

-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.

-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.

-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...

If you want more : my masterlist

I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !

#cod x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #call of duty x reader #captain price x reader #alex keller x reader #nikolai x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rudy x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader

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rowarn · 7 months

Text

EXPERIENCE (m.)

könig x inexperienced!reader

tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting

note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!

;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man

9.5k

When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby.

You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away.

He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time.

On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that.

He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military.

You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about.

The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber.

By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do.

“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by.

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it.

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight.

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open.

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you.

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance.

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly.

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider.

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up?

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole.

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did.

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it.

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König.

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age.

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did.

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name.

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot.

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up.

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them.

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later.

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches.

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind.

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on.

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it.

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself.

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on.

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you.

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off.

He doesn’t respond.

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him.

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König.

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days.

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for.

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence.

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it.

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out.

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all.

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen.

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on.

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him.

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after.

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze.

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual.

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade.

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you.

It’s for the best, he assures himself.

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there.

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself.

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes.

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life.

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts.

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt.

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings.

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake.

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate.

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet.

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence.

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge.

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him.

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you.

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change.

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it.

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision.

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff.

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you.

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch.

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out.

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss.

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to.

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip.

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before.

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it.

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder.

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely.

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms.

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan.

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought.

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you.

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him.

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle.

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again.

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away.

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements.

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips.

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure.

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip.

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches.

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements.

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience.

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties.

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs.

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it.

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt.

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you.

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you.

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look.

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool.

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock.

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum.

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause.

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch.

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore.

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch.

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you.

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer.

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter.

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good.

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them.

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you.

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist.

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs.

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his.

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out.

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap.

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

#könig smut #könig x reader #konig smut #konig x reader #cod x reader #cod smut

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