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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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THE FIRST TIME - prologue

🎀 stalker!könig x cam girl!reader tags: 18+ (no explicit smut in this one, but there's mention of tits and dicks so be warned), voyeurism, (online) stalking, reader is a cam girl & könig is insane :)

The first time König saw you he felt like the world stopped turning. Like every single person around him just stopped moving altogether. He never believed in love at first sight, never liked any of that romantic crap, never cared for anyone that way.

But then he saw you. You looked so beautiful, just standing there, browsing through the indie section at the run-down vinyl store in the city. He barely ever went there, but he picked up cigarettes from the kiosk across the street and had some more time on his hands, so he trailed inside the small store.

He immediately pressed his body into a corner of the store, absentmindedly letting his fingers skim through vinyls he couldn’t give less of a shit about. Instead, he stole glances at you. He noted the way your beautiful hair was swept over one shoulder and fanned out over your back. The way your dazzling eyes never left the rows and rows of old and dusty vinyls. The way a broad smile stretched across your lips when you found what you were looking for all this time and an excited little laugh left your pouty mouth.

He could have melted on the spot right then and there. It only took one look, and he knew he could never forget about you, never want another.

When you left the store, he waited before following you. Even though his tall statue was a sight to behold, his military training allowed him to blend in, to know how to follow someone without arousing suspicion.

He needed to know more about you - something, anything. So, eventually, he ended up at your house, staring at you through the window. He tried to take in as much as he could, any crumbs of information to know more about you.

That evening, when he arrived at his place, he immediately began to work behind his laptop. He scoured local Facebook groups, looked through social media profiles, and even retraced your address in hopes of finding you. And so he did, after painstaking research your name was right there. A satisfied smile grew on his lips as he finally skimmed through your social media accounts. He took his research very seriously, finding old pictures, friends, and family in the process.

Till he found an account with your face under an obviously fake name.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, there you were, your sweet face, with those beautiful eyes and those sinful lips. You stared back at him, a smile on your face, your hands gently wrapped around your barely covered tits. You were wearing a stunning bra, just straps of leather that could barely cover your nipples.

It felt like he was gaping at his laptop screen for hours, his growing cock straining painfully against his pants. And then he got into motion, the next half an hour spent discovering your cute little alter ego, the social media and OnlyFans accounts to promote yourself online and the star of the show, your account on a sleazy cam girl website.

He was so incredibly excited, so needy, and desperate to see you. A message in all caps on your profile read ‘online every day at 8 pm’. His heart hammered in his chest, 1 more hour and he would see you. See how you would undress for him and touch yourself for him.

He tightened his hands into fists, hunger racing through his veins. He could barely fucking think straight, his cock aching with desire. But he couldn’t do it, he wanted to save himself for you. He wanted to cum only when he could see you, you deserved it - his full commitment, because you were the only thing that mattered now.

check out the stalker!könig masterlist for more

#I know he's problematic but stalker!könig is just so romantic #lemme know if you wanna see him jerk it to cam girl!reader for the first time :)#stalker!könig #könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #könig cod #könig smut #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra writes 📖

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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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smoke break

#this man can absolutely get it #price

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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood Masterlist

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks.

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

Divider by: samspenandsword

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction Chapter 2 - Adjustments Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

#honestly do yourself a favour and read this if you like a/b/o dynamics #its such a great story #I'm honestly addicted #141 x reader #✧･ﾟ⊹ astras recs ✨

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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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painting his nails

(cw: age gap 25/41, size difference; talking about König's occupation being a soldier, scars from his injuries, military stuff; tickling, smut, nsfw, mdni)

part before: waking up in his bed

“Hold still.”

“This is much more tedious and annoying than I thought it would be.”

I swipe at his lower lash line again, leaving more eyeshadow there. He is blinking excessively, his eyes watering.

“You’re a big baby.”, I tell him, wiping some of the excess away that fell onto his cheekbones.

He shoots me a look. “I just wanted you to paint my nails.”, he grumbles. When he asked me if I could bring some nail polish to paint his nails (black, of course), I was surprised at first. He always wanted to try it, but he didn’t know how to do it properly, so it looked like shit when he did it himself (his words). And I was more than happy to oblige, and then some.

“I got distracted.”, I defend myself. I couldn’t resist coaxing him into putting on some smudgy eyeliner because I knew it would look hot on him. And of course, I am right. I hand him the make-up compact that has a little mirror.

“I look like I didn’t wash off my eyeblack properly.”, he mumbles, critically eyeing the make-up in the reflective material.

“What’s that?”, I ask.

“It’s uh- like black grease paint? Body paint? For like the eye area that still shows in balaclavas.”, he explains.

“Oh, I see.”, I say, getting the gist of it, but still wondering why that was necessary. I tuck that information away for later, to maybe look it up myself, as I open up the little flask of nail polish.

I take his hand in mine and like every single time I’m astounded by the size difference. Yes, he’s like two heads taller than me and over twice my weight. And I don’t think I’m that small. But compared to him I feel tiny. Like right now with his hand splayed out on my thigh while I paint his nails.

I admire the tattoos on his hands, while I paint the first nail. I always try to not pay attention to the parts of his skin that are disturbed by cuts and scars, because they remind me of how he got them. That his work isn’t some kind of accountant desk job. His comment about the eyeblack showed that as well. How different his frame of reference is from mine, even when it comes to small details like that. And how I still don’t know that much about him.

The questions swirl in the forefront of my mind, unsure of how to phrase them, until I finally start to speak. "What's your work like?", I ask carefully. "What... are you like at work?”

He just shakes his head, avoiding eye contact. "I don't..." Opening his mouth, hesitant to say something more.

"I'm sorry, I just- Sorry for being nosy again, just forget about it.", I deflect, painting his middlefinger’s nail next, my eyes darting up to him, smiling apologetically.

He shakes his head again, this time more like to himself. "No, it's okay. I understand.", he says, the smile struggling to form on his face, the emotions in his eyes illegible to me. "I just don't think that you would like me very much at work."

"I don't believe that.", I say softly, even though I’m not so sure myself, with the way he said it. But I couldn’t leave his comment that seemed like a jab at himself like that.

He scoffs. "You'd probably run away screaming if you saw me in my get-up alone.", he grumbles. And I get it. A 6'10'' 300 pounds hulk of a man in full tactical gear sounds scary. Most of the time, I think he would want people to cower when they see him. But there surely also had to be situations where he didn't want to come off as intimidating, but he still might. Like with me.

"You got a picture?", I ask, carefully, adding quickly: "Uh, you don't have to show me though, of course."

At first, he just looks at me, then he sighs and reaches for his phone. "Maybe… I have to look for one.", he mumbles, scrolling on the little screen.

It doesn't take long, and he finds one. I can tell by the way his brows furrow in discontent, but he turns the device to me anyway. It doesn't have the best quality, yet my eyes scan every little bit of it.

He’s huge, duh. Dressed in tactical gear. Protectors on his shins and forearms. A bulletproof vest. Beige cargo pants. A helmet on his head. A rifle in his hands, but don't ask me what kind, because I have no fucking clue.

And he does look scary and intimidating, for sure.

The most surprising part is the mask on his face, not one of those usual masks you would see, but a hood that looks – selfmade? From a shirt or something similar, hiding his whole head and his neck, almost falling down to his chest. There are stains on the front, reddish streaks right under the eyeholes.

My eyes shoot up to look at him, the question on the tip of my tongue. “The mask?”

He shrugs. “Most of the guys at work wear one. And I have worn a similar thing, ever since I wanted to become a sniper. They didn’t let me join the squad because I was too big for that.”, he explains, and I can feel that there is more to the story than he lets on. “I used to wear some type of mask whenever I went outside. Even when I was on leave. But I don’t do that anymore.”, he adds on.

“I see.”, is all I say, my eyes still scanning the pic. Trying to connect his two faces in my mind.

The man I see on the picture is so different from the one whose lap I’m currently sitting on. But I can see bits of both of them, right here before me and also on the screen. Like the band of red beads around his wrist. The big burly stature, dressed in dark clothing. The certain attitude that shows in his posture. The broader than life stance mirrored in the way he’s sitting on the couch.

“My Oma always hated the mask thing, but then again, she didn’t like me joining the military anyway.”, he says then. ('grandma')

“Because?”, I ask curiously, continuing to paint his nails.

He shrugs. “I mean, I understand it, I- it’s difficult to explain. With Austria’s past and what my grandma knew of war… I understand why she wasn’t thrilled that I wanted to become a soldier. As a career.”, he explains, putting the phone away again.

“Oh, right, I didn’t think about that.”, I say, squeezing his fingers lightly, while I move to his other hand, pulling it onto my thigh. His fingertips dig into the softness, as I start to paint his left thumb.

“Yeah... That was probably the only time we ever really argued. About my work.”, he says, his voice calmer than the look in his eyes.

“How did you even know you wanted to be a soldier?”, I ask him then.

“How did you know what you wanted to do?”, he asks back.

“I don’t know, I was kinda good at it and it paid money.”, I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Exactly. I was in compulsory military service and when we ran drills for the first time… it just made sense, it clicked. The simplicity of it. The structure.” He stops talking for a second, like the list could go on, but something’s keeping him from listing it off. I’m not interjecting, just listening.

“And the prospect of even getting paid for it long term kind of sealed the deal.”, he says instead. “The sniper thing didn’t work out, but somebody of my height and build… well, it took me far as a specialist to break into things. Got out of Austria pretty quickly. And at that time, I also started to use König as a name.”

I perk up when he drops that last bit of information. “I thought that that can't be your real name.”, I smile up at him, before I look down again to make sure none of the colour spills.

He laughs a bit, but it's not a happy laugh. “Yeah, I went through some stuff.”, he says, kinda flatly, and then he sighs. “Got over the need to constantly hide my face, even when I'm not working. But König stuck. Must have quite the ego to call yourself king, hm.”

I’m surprised at the little self-deprecating stab. Well, I guess, his ego fits his stature, but… “I never thought that your ego was overinflated.”, I simply say. Silence falls over us, for just a moment.

“You're not gonna ask about my real name?”, he asks then, the tone in voice unreadable.

I stop my movements, looking up at him. “I might be nosy, but I feel like I already asked too many questions today.”, I answer, a serious expression on my face, needing him to see that I’m being genuine about this: “And I know a boundary when I see one.”

“Right, sorry, I didn't mean to imply-“, he says, breaking off in a curse.

“Don't worry.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, to shut him up. “I don't need to know your ‘real name’ to…” I stop for a moment, trying to find the right thing to say. “If you ever decide to tell me, that's fine, and if you don’t, that's fine too. Okay?”

He nods, the little smile on his face as he looks down at me finally seeming genuine again. “Okay.”

I would have never known that the simple act of painting his nails could be this intimate. But I guess, our closeness, how I’m sitting on his lap, music softly playing in the background – I think, he put on some Pink Floyd Best Of vinyl. The repetitive act of painting nail by nail, picking up colour with the little brush and then coating them carefully. The warmth of his hand on my thigh. His voice filling the space around us, as he tells me about his work. At least the parts he wants to tell me. And I’m soaking everything up, learning more about the man. The man whose real name I might never know.

I can feel how careful he’s being with how he's wording things. Holding himself back a few times. Like he's afraid about telling too much. I'm not naive. I don't know the exact details, but I still know what he does for a living.

I get that the soft version he is with me isn't his default setting. And I know that he is trying so hard right now, not letting that other side shine through too much, because I might see him differently then, while still giving me bits and pieces of himself.

I admire my paint job, the black nails fitting the rest of his left hand. DIE in big bold letters on his knuckles, the lettering pulling up into the skull that spans the back of his hand. The cold dead tree that adorns the inside of his arm sprouts its roots in the eyeholes.

His palm still rests on my thigh, his fingertips softly digging into my skin, like he is holding on.

“You’re done.”, I tell him then. He lifts his giant hands to look at them as well, a grin stalking onto his face, and I miss the warmth of his touch already.

“Thanks.”, he says and presses an almost chaste kiss to my lips.

“You’re very welcome. Even though I needed to use half the nail polish to have enough for your plate-sized nails.”, I comment tongue-in-cheek.

“I’m gonna buy you a new bottle.”, he answers simply.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”, I wave it off.

“And? How do I look?”, he asks, almost striking a pose.

“Good.”, I answer, grinning at him. “Real goth.”, I add jokingly, and we laugh a bit.

I lean against him, my fingers tangle in his shirt, and silence falls over us. He presses me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me. His cheek nuzzling the top of my head. I feel how he’s moving, like he wants to start to speak. Like he is looking for the right words.

“I hope you’re not afraid of me.”, he finally says, mumbled into my hair, so quiet I almost can’t understand him at first.

“I’m not.”, I simply say, knowing that a more elaborate answer wouldn't have convinced him any more. Snuggling into him even, my cheek pressing against the soft pillow of his chest, the palm of my hands caressing over his back. Holding him for a moment.

I pull back a bit, to look up at him, not letting him hide away in my hair any longer. “Uh, btw…”, I start, trying to hide the giggles that want to escape me.

"What?", he asks as he sees the sparkle in my eyes.

"Did I ever tell you that I have a mask kink?", I say, fully grinning from one cheek to another, which pulls a little laugh from him.

“Of course you do, Fräulein.”, he says, but I can see the heat in his gaze, as he quips: “I’ve seen the bands you listen to.”

I playfully smack his bicep. “Rude!”

He just laughs again, grabbing me and pulling me into him again.

“Nooo, your nails are not even dry!”, I wail, giggling, as he peppers kisses all over my neck. I try to escape his grasp, to escape his tickling touches, but it’s like fighting against iron restraints. When he lets go of me, I reprimand him for messing up his nails, and paint those again where some colour came off.

He makes sure to apologize properly, carrying me up to the bedroom, where he strips me naked and sets me on top of his face, telling me to ride it. His hands grab my thighs, letting me admire how good his hands look like that, with the tattoos and the freshly painted nails.

I’m sitting on his face, properly sitting on it, because he wouldn’t accept it any other way. “If I go out like this, so be it. Now, please, sit on my fucking face.”, he rather orders than begs.

His mouth, hot and warm against my wet pussy, is working me tirelessly. His hands steering the pace of my hips that grind against his lower face. His fingers toying with my holes, while he sucks on my clit.

He doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied and his face sufficiently soaked with my juices. He lifts me off his mouth and onto his dick – after getting a condom, of course. I sink down around him, relaxed and so wet, until I’m seated on his lap, his cock filling me to the brim.

I chuckle as I look back and see how his eyes are fixed on my ass, watching it move up and down his length, my pussy swallowing him up, again and again and again. His mouth fell open a little, and it almost seems like there isn’t anything on his mind right now, other than me fucking him reverse cowgirl, with a prime seat for looking at my butt.

“You wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.”, I taunt him, lifting myself from his lap slowly, making sure he sees every inch slipping out of me.

His eyes snap up to my face, a clear ‘watch it’ written on his expression, until his slack jaw turns into a smirk. He leans forward, catching my wrists and securing them behind my back, with just one hand. My back arches as he jerks me down onto his cock, my asscheeks hitting his groin in a slap. My mouth forms to an O, a moan being pulled from my lips.

“You were saying? Hmm?”, he teases me, pressing kisses to my neck that send shivers down my spine. The little ‘hmm’ a soft growl.

“Nothing.”, I breathe, my eyes rolling back as he starts to fuck me like this. Fucking up into me, his tip hitting me deep in this position, pushing up against my cervix. The intense sensations have me screaming, pulsing around his dick.

And when it would be time to pack my stuff and go home after spending the whole weekend together because I have to work tomorrow, I just don’t. It’s late already, so I stay another night, sleeping next to him in his bed, like I did the past two days. Using him as my personal heater because that huge burly man gives off more heat than any radiator would, and it’s impossible to flee his grasp.

~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: this chapter has been brewing for a long time (it was the second scene i ever started, i think) and there's a lot of stuff in there that keeps rumbling around my head when it comes to könig in general and mh!k specifically some of it is canon-diverging headcanons about how he came to be a soldier (you realistically can't really join the austrian military before 18), what that must have meant to him and the people who were close to him, especially his grandma, who was the most important person in his life (also in the context of austria's past) mh!k is a much more toned down now at his age, better adjusted, not the much wilder younger version; he still very much is a König, but he got better over time at not letting his work dictate his every minute, especially when he is on leave he doesn't have the best image of himself, because he knows how he is, how he can be and what he has done, while at the same time being just fine with it all the same, because that's just who he is with reader, it's a little bit of a different topic, because he kind of doesn't want her to see him that way while he also understands her curiosity you see, lots of thoughts xD anyway, thanks for reading <3

#ahsksksnsk a banger every time #König #könig x reader #✧･ﾟ⊹ astras recs ✨

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tearsofastraeax · 3 months

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heyy hope u're doin okay! what abt simon having a huge nightmare and we comfort him?

tyyy <3

hi. hope you enjoy the big broody men getting comforted as much as I did ♡

You startled awake, barely aware enough of your surroundings to recognise the familiar silhouette perched on the edge of the bed, his back turned towards you. Desperately clawing at your memories, you tried to remember why in god’s name you woke up in the middle of the night, as the darkness seeping in from outside suggested.

"Si?" You carefully moved towards his large form, as you spoke.

He didn't react, or maybe he didn't even notice you were awake and talking to him. You knew he sometimes had nightmares, most of them thanks to the years and years in active service. Some because of older and more haunting things. But you had never been awake when it had happened, only able to pry the most basic information out of him the morning after, when you awoke to find the bed cold and empty, Simon long gone. It took him over a year to admit to you that he suffered from nightmares, so the fact that you were now conscious enough to be there for him, made you careful in your movements... as if he was a wild animal you didn’t want to startle.

You moved over the mattress, gently sitting next to him. Your hand slowly inched towards him, before you ran your fingers over his back. He didn't flinch away from you, but neither did he acknowledge your presence.

So, you sat there with him, gently running your hand along his back, and listening to the silence in the room; his breathing, the car alarm sounding outside, your neighbour's music softly playing through the thin walls and wrapping you in a soft haze.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Simon suddenly leaned his body towards you, laying down, his head resting on your lap. You couldn't help the gentle smile that tugged at your lips. Your hand that was slowly drawing circles into Simon's back now moved up toward his head. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and watched as his eyes closed. He looked so sweet then, his face not reflecting any of the hardships that usually cut creases into his skin.

It felt like hours passed, the two of you staying in the same position, his head on your lap. Slowly you felt yourself having a hard time keeping your own eyes open and your body upright. But then you suddenly felt it, gentle kisses pressed into the skin of your thighs, blissfully exposed beneath the shirt you slept in. You dared to glance down at Simon, whose lips were pulled into a sweet smile, but his eyes had a mischievous glint in them as he looked up at you.

You giggled as he sat up slowly, grabbing your waist and rolling you underneath him. He fully surrounded your body like this, the way he leaned over you, his hands on either side of your head to keep himself upright.

"I just need to feel you baby… know that you’re still here," he smiled softly at you, a battle between despair and hunger consuming his expression. And you couldn’t help but melt beneath his gaze, tightly wrapping your arms around him and holding on for dear life.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost Riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #Simon Riley fluff #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra writes 📖

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