141 + Knig Teaching Medic!Reader To Spar

141 + König teaching Medic!Reader to spar

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141 + König & Reader

Short Drabble

Price decides that you need to learn how to spar. He doesn’t really explain it, but you go alone with it anyway.

It would be inaccurate to say you weren’t surprised when Price called you into the gym in the middle of the day. You were in the midst of getting as much paper work out of the way as you could before you took your lunch break when you got the call.

“Head down to the gym, need your help with something.” Was all you got from him before he hung up. You were expecting to have to supervise a particularly rough sparring session.

Once you’re in the gym, Price calls you over to stand in front of him. “I’ve never seen you in combat, so I want to know what you can do.” Lucky for you, you were already dressed in some workout appropriate clothes.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have a good teacher.” He says, gesturing to…

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

Isn’t going to go easy on you and treats you like any other rookie in need of training

Doesn’t train like he would with Soap or Price, makes sure to treat you like you have no experience in fighting

Doesn’t spend time letting you get any “free hits” in, not a hardass but definitely not just gonna “let you win”

Believes in the “people out there won’t be nice to you, so it’s best you learn now with people who will be”

Ultimately just wants to see you learn and be safe

Ghost steps onto the mat in front of you, practically staring you down through the holes in the fabric mask he wears around base. His gaze is cold and calculated, already analysing you as you step on in front of him.

He drops into a low stance, feet spread slightly, looking relaxed. His hands come up to shield his torso and face, balled into loose fists, hovering still in the air.

You barely have the chance to try and mimic him before he’s stepping in and throwing you to the ground. It’s a clean and controlled takedown, nearly landing you on your front. You would’ve been winded were if not for Ghost’s hand balled up in the fabric of your shirt, holding you up.

The moment doesn’t last long at all, as he elects to drop you onto the ground. You manage to catch yourself on your forearms before rolling onto your back and staring up at him. He holds a hand out to you, eyes crinkling slightly with a smile.

“Get up, you’re not gonna learn anything on the floor.”

——John “Soap” MacTavish——

Mostly fun and games, even during this

He doesn’t feel the need to be absolutely serious, but will still point out areas where he feels you need to pay attention

Knows this is likely your first time ever fighting, so takes it easy - but not too easy

Kind of forgets you aren’t a solider at one point and gets a little too harsh with his hits - he feels so bad

Enjoys helping you learn

Soap is bouncing on the balls of his feet as you try and ready yourself. You haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re supposed to be doing with your hands or feet. Luckily, Soap is here to guide you!

“Hands up, protect your organs and your head - they’re important, ‘specially for someone that has to think all the time, like you,” he chuckles lightly, bringing his head up slightly, looking directly into your eyes.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as you follow his instructions. You find your body sinking slightly, easing into a lower stance that makes your thighs burn after a few minutes.

“I’m going to punch you - slowly - and I want you to try and block it.”

He does as he says and you do your pathetic and best attempt to block it. That attempt being you brining your hands up to shield your head and scrunching up your face.

“I think we’ve got a lot to learn.”

Despite his chaotic nature, he makes a surprisingly good teacher.

———Captain John Price———

Feels responsible to do this, seeing as he’s the one who called you down here

Very slow in his movements - a combination of him being a patient man and knowing you have little to no experience

Much like Soap, he tries to keep it more lighthearted so you don’t feel under pressure

Spends a lot of time correcting you, moving to grab your arms and tug them into place or kicking/tapping your ankles to get you to move your feet

Price doesn’t bother trying to fight you, instead opting to stand with his arms crossed across his chest before you. He looks at you with a look somewhere between disappointment and analysis - you can’t really tell. Something about him does, however, says ‘deep in thought’.

“Hands up, legs apart, relax your knees,” he speaks while moving to stand behind you, placing his hands in your upper arms. You quickly realise he’s doing this to support you as he gently kicks at your ankles. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s just hard enough that it causes your legs to shift and you to sink your stance.

“There. Much better,” he mutters, moving round to the front of you and taking your wrists in his hands. “A low stance means a low center of gravity. A low center of gravity if good for balance. Better balance, less likely you are to be knocked over. I’m sure you can infer why that’s a good thing.” He speaks as he moves your hands, placing your hands about half a foot in front of you.

“Keep your guard up. You got one head, if the enemy gets it, you’re gone. Don’t give them the chance.”

He stands in front of you, out of reach of any misplaced punch or pathetic kick you might try and throw.

“You learn quick enough, I’m sure this’ll go smoothly.”

———————König———————

He’s well aware of both his strength and size and is incredibly nervous to try this - especially when he thinks about the fact that you haven’t been trained to fight

König wants to do right by you, he really does, but his nerves get the best of him sometimes

He’s very hesitant to touch you, so ends up taking a very hands off approach to teach you instead, opting to stand next to you and have you copy him instead

König is fidgety as he moves to stand next to you, holding his hands up with his left hand in front. He waits, unmoving for a second, before looking down towards you.

“Could you copy me please?” He speaks, voice seeming to crawl out of his throat at the same speed that honey drips off a spoon.

You do as you’re told, trying your best to copy his stance. It takes a few minutes for you to get it right, not including you making tiny little adjustments to your position to try and be as accurate to your teacher as possible.

König can’t help but chuckle a little at your actions. He makes a small comment, asking you to raise your front fist up slightly.

“Put your non-dominant hand forwards, so when you punch, you can punch with your dominant hand.”

You do as told, holding your non-dominant hand further in front of you than your dominant one. This prompts another laugh from him.

“You need to also put the same leg forwards. Left hand forwards,” He pauses for a second, taking care to gesture to his left hand. “Left leg forwards.” He does the same thing, this time gesturing to his leg, planted sturdy in the ground, providing a solid support.

“You have to do the same,” he speaks with a hint of a smile but with nervousness dripping off of every syllable.

“Don’t worry, it gets easier with time.” He reassures you, and you’re almost certain you see his eyes crinkle in a smile.

Soft

Wally Darling x Reader (Platonic or Romantic)

Requested: No

To your surprise, Wally's hair isn't a solid mass of hair spray and bobby pins! Rather, its an intricately weaved together hair style that nearly falls apart when you run your hands through it. Though Wally doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

Word count: 609 Reading time: ~2 mins

TW: None No descriptions of the reader's gender + they/them pronouns, but the reader is briefly mentioned to be wearing a dress

You sit on the blanket Julie has laid out, legs tucked under you with your dress' skirt pushed over your knees. It's a beautifully sunny day, just like every other day this week as been. Which is why Julie had decided that it was the opportune time to put together a picnic. Wally interrupts your light day dreaming when he walks over, sitting next to you with his legs crossed.

"Hello neighbour," he says, voice soft and monotone as always.

"Heya Wally, enjoying today?" You ask, glancing at him for a second before closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the feeling of the sun on your face.

"I am, it's wonderful. Are you?"

You hum out a response, shifting slightly to lay your legs in front of you. Leaning back on your hands becomes more comfortable than holding yourself up.

Suddenly, an unexpected weight is placed in your lap, gently laid across your thighs. You crack an eye open, having to readjust to the bright sunlight. When you can finally see properly again, you're met with the sight of Wally. His head in placed in your lap, eyes closed and signature smile on his face. His fingers are intertwined and hands laid on his stomach while his legs are straight out, relaxed and slightly parted.

"You comfortable there?" You chuckle lightly, placing a hand on Wally's chest and toying with the end of his silk ascot.

"Very, thank you neighbour." He doesn't bother opening his eyes to look at you - which is rather strange for Wally, but you brush it off as him being relaxed.

Slowly, you remove your hand from his chest and place it behind you, leaning back again. Although, from the way Wally opens his eyes and looks at you, you can tell he he wasn't particularly fond of your choice. But your other wrist hurts and you need to give it a break, so you choose instead to play with his hair. Or at least you attempt to.

Everyone in home knows Wally takes a lot of pride in his appearance - not in a vain way, he just likes to look good. And as a result of that, you expected his hair to be solid, held together by mass amounts of hair spray. What you don't expect in the slightest is how soft it is. Your fingers disappear easily into the blue pompadour, sinking into the soft, almost fluffy mass without a problem.

You expect to find a bobby pin in there somewhere, and while you do, it does take a moment. Completely lost in how soft his hair is, you don't realise that Wally's hair has begun to unravel. Gently, it begins to untwine, falling into your lap.

"Neighbour?" Wally opens his eyes again, looking up at you, "What are you doing?"

"Oh!" It's almost as if his words bring you back to reality, make you aware of what you're doing, "I'm so sorry Wally, I didn't mean to ruin your hair," You mumble, removing your hand from his hair.

However, your movement doesn't get far as the puppet in your lap reaches up to grab your hand in both of his. He guides it back to his head, placing it back in the same position it was in before you took it away.

"I can fix it later neighbour." Wally smiles up at you, letting his eyes fall shut again.

You chuckle lightly, threading your fingers into his hair again. Once again you lose yourself in the feeling of his hair. You twirl the loose curls around your fingers, watching them coil and then fall away from around your digits.

I’m really sorry for the delay w/ posting and that- exams are currently kicking my ass… Only got a little while left tho and I should be able to bang out some stuff!!!

Floating

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Kenny McKormic x reader

3,928 words

All characters are 18+

Kenny returns to South Park after disappearing for 2 years upon turning 16. When he comes back with enough money to outright buy a house, you are unsure how to approach and talk to the man you had been so close to for so long. Luckily, he doesn't take you inviting yourself in with his spare key to be rude and instead invites you to join him in his room.

TW: W33d usage

The cold air stings your face as you walk down the street, listening to the show crunching underfoot with every step you take. Tentative breaths curl in the air, almost dancing in front of your eyes as you continue down the street. As much as you adored a fresh snow fall, you hated the way the freezing feeling would nip at your nose.

Footprints behind you show the path you’ve taken from your house, untouched by anyone or anything. Turns out you were the only person stupid enough to leave your house today. Even though you lived in the mountains, no one else was willing to face the frigid outside apart from you. But it was going to be worth it when you finally arrived at your destination.

Your mind wanders as do your feet, thinking about what you’re going to say to him when you finally arrive at his house. He had been gone for so long, dipping out of South Park when He was 16 and only coming back a few months ago. Sure, you had been his friend for so long before that happened, but what would He think of you now? He had been gone for practically two years. And when He had finally reappeared, He had enough money to outright buy a house and refused to talk about what He had done to get the money.

Your eyes seem to come back into focus when you’re practically on his door step. Looking up at the two-story house that He shared with his parents, staring at his window and wondering what He was going to say to you.

The spare key He kept tucked under a small rock was easy to find, obviously you still knew him better than He thought you did. Slipping it into the door, your mind wandered once again, this time racing faster than it had in a long time. Although it felt wring to slip into his house like this unannounced, you were more than grateful at the warm air greeting your frozen features.

Standing by the door, you slipped of the black snow boots and shrugged the dusty green jacket off your shoulders. The warm air almost seemed to kiss life back into your half-dead skin. It was a sensation that almost stopped you in your tracks, just wanting to indulge in the feeling, like moving out strip it away. But you knew you had to move, you had come this far, you couldn’t stop now.

As you begin to make your way up the stairs you become overly aware of a pungent and funky sent. It washes over your body in waves until you’re completely consumed by it. You know exactly what that smell is, but you don’t want to think about it. Not right not at least.

Despite trying your best to ignore it, you really can’t. Especially not when you finally get to the top of the stairs and see what you can only assume to be his door cracked open. You knew that was where the smell was coming from and somehow, just somehow, it didn’t shock you.

You have to take a deep breath to steady your racing Heart, trying to convince yourself He wasn’t going to freak out at you for arriving and inviting yourself in uninvited, but nothing you did could quell the queasiness growing in your chest.

The door was smooth under your palm, no temperature difference between the varnish and your skin. It seemed to push back as you pushed it open, a fight between you and the carpet to get the door to move out of your way. But it was all worth it when you were met with a vision of him half sprawled out on his bed. His hair was a partially ruffled mess of smooth blond locks sticking out every which way, seeming to shine slightly in the delicate light the small desk lamp on his bedside table. He was clad in nothing but grey sweats, blue and yellow socks and small black band shirt that rose up to expose the band of his boxers. His Head and upper back were partially propped up against the wall his bed was pushed up against.

Everything in your body seemed to still in the moment that his eyes met yours. Dopy and half closed, red rimmed with and almost euphoric sparkle.

“Hey Kenny…” You trail off, still wishing you had just turn tail and run before you even reached his front door.

Your eyes dropped to his signature orange parka crumpled in a Heap on the floor when He didn’t say anything. Any time you managed to push yourself to look at him, his eyes were wide in shock and confusion, but nothing said anger about him.

“(Y/n)?...” He sat up straight, both hands pressing into his rumpled sheets as He leaned forwards to get at better look at you. “I… I wasn’t expecting you,” his voice was uncertain as He spoke, almost like He was just as nervous as you.

“I know, I probably should’ve said something instead of just… coming round and letting myself in,” You could feel the voice crack that hit you half way through speaking and you cringed, having to resist the urge to recoil and practically fold into yourself.

“No, no, it’s ok.” Kenny swallowed hard, looking quickly between you and the blunt still propped up neatly in his right hand. “Come… Come and sit with me? And close the door too, please.” HE sounded so nervous as He spoke, trying not to say something wrong.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him running his left hand through his hair, trying to sort it out as you pushed the door over till you Head it click shut.

“Want me to lock it too?”

“Yeah.”

Once you turned around, Kenny had pulled his shirt back down and was looking at you, observing you. It didn’t take long for you to take a deep breath of the Heavily weed scented air and finally start moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

If this were anyone else, any other house you had just walked into uninvited, any other of your friends, you would’ve sat nervously. Perched nervously on the edge of the bed like you were scared of ruining their sheets or upsetting them by getting to comfortable in their space. But this was Kenny, so you had to stop yourself from falling back onto the bed and holding your hand up for him to pass you the blunt.

“Why do you look so nervous?” It felt like He was reading your mind.

“Cuz I just kinda… turned up without saying anything to you? You could’ve been doing anything.”

“I’m glad you showed up.” There was a moment of silence after He said that, especially as your eyes met and, just for a second in the low light of the room, you thought you could see dark bubbling deep in his eyes. “I feel like we haven’t talked enough since I came back to South Park.”

You felt the same way. You had only seen Kenny a few times in the 5 months He had been back, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your craving to be around the blond.

“Yeah, me either…”

The conversation felt so dry, nothing like it should. Nothing like you wanted it to.

“Fuck it, Wanna get high with me?” There was the Kenny you knew, the Kenny you had sobbed saying goodbye to at 16, the same one who had hugged you so hard you though your ribcage might burst and told you not to tell anyone He was going soft.

“Thought you’d never ask,” your grin carried in your voice as you spoke, holding a hand up and waiting for him to place the bling neatly between your two waiting forefingers.

Except He didn’t pass you the blunt. Instead, He Held a hand up to you, signalling for you to wait as He brought it to his own lips and pulled in a deep breath. Your eyes drifted down to his chest, watching it rise slowly as He inhaled. His shirt shifted with the movement, showing more of the graphic on the front.

Your concentration was broken by his spare hand coming to cup your face, tilting your face towards his. There wasn’t a moment for you to speak before He was pulling you in and firmly planting his lips against yours. They were softer than you had expected them to be. The kiss was sloppy and wet yet ever so tentative.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt Kenny’s lips open. They only parted slightly but you couldn’t Help but mimic his actions. One of your hands fell over the top of his, cupping it and keeping it firmly planted on your face.

Only when Kenny began to breathe out did you realise what the actual purpose of the kiss was. Slowly, you began to inhale the smoke that was pouring out of his lungs. It went down smoothly, gliding down your throat and settling in your lungs.

Once He was sure you had taken it all in, Kenny’ slowly began to pull away, eyes pulling open until He was staring into yours. His blue eyes seemed to almost sparkle in the low lighting of the room, especially as you watched them gently shift back and forth between yours, almost looking for something, a reaction of any kind. And He got it when you let out a gentle giggle, the smoke spilling from your lips and curling into the already saturated air; curling and dancing around both of your necks, almost seeming to pull you in closer.

Kenny’s face light up in a blush as you giggle, but He doesn’t dare move away. He can feel the Head of your soft breaths on his face and it drawn him in again. He wants to feel your lips, your body. It’s probably the weed driving him, placing calming hands on his shoulders and urging him forwards – but He’s sure you’ve never looked prettier in his entire life.

By the time you’ve finished giggling, Kenny had finally moved away and it taking another long drag from the blunt. He offers it to you and you take it gratefully, pulling it up to your lips and pulling in a deep breath. You notice that, just as you had when He first pulled in a breath, Kenny was watching the rise and fall of your chest carefully. His eyes didn’t move even as you Held the smoke in your lungs, even as you breathed out – He was acutely focused on you.

“Kiss me.” It was blunt, his eyes moving up to stare intensely into yours as He said it.

You felt Heat rise to your face as you chocked on your own saliva. Covering your mouth with a balled first you practically crumped up, folding in half as you tried to clear your throat. Your Heart pumped rapidly against your chest as you tried to still your mind and think clearly about what He had said.

“Is that a no?”

You sat up when you heard him speak, nearly dropping the blunt that was still balanced precariously between your forefingers.

“No! I just- caught me off guard,” your voice wobbles as you speak, taking deep breaths and forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

Once again, silence settled between the both of you as your eyes met. Only this time, it didn’t end in one of you taking a drag from the now spent blunt, or an awkward comment – but rather in another kiss.

Kenny pressed his lips against yours, one hand moving to cup your face while the other takes the blunt from your hand. You relax, tilting your Head and leaning into the kiss as He fumbles behind the both of you to get rid of the blunt in an ashtray on his bedside table. His lips were soft against yours, wet from where he had been licking them. You move to hold onto his shoulders, moving your lips against his in perfect harmony.

The hand that had previously been fiddling with the ashtray moved to rest on your waist, massaging the soft flesh through the hoodie you were wearing. Slowly, he began to guide you, swivelling you around until your head was laying on his pillow. Not once was did his lips move away from yours while he shifted.

Your hands move from where they had been resting on his biceps, slowly gliding up to his shoulders and into his messy golden-blond locks. Carding your fingers through his hair, you began to feel the need to breathe and had to gently tug on his hair to get him to pull away.

The second his lips were parted from yours, He was attacking your neck. Sloppy kisses down the side of your neck, right over your pulse point. He was leaving a trail of saliva as He went, beginning to slowly nip at the conjunction between your shoulder and your neck.

Kenny began to nip harder at your skin, sucking gently on the spot he was nipping. You let out a quiet moan from deep in your throat, pulling gently at his hair as he continued his ministrations. Finally, he pulled away, kissing the small and newly forming bruise.

“Fuck…” His breath puffed out over your now wet neck.

“Kenny,” You moaned gently, head tilted back and eyes squeezed closed.

Kenny’s hands began to slide under your shirt, splaying over your stomach. His thumbs began to move, brushing gently over your soft skin. You arch you back, pushing against his gently calloused hands.

“Can I take this off?” He mumbled into your neck, hands pulling out of your shirt to gently tug at it. You nodded gently as an answer, mumbling out a soft yes.

With your confirmation, he began to pull your shirt up and over your head. You had to arch your back and roll with him to help him pull it off. As soon as the shirt was no longer on your body, it was thrown to the floor beside his parka and his mouth was on your abdomen. More sloppy kisses were being placed on your heated skin, trailing down towards the top of your jeans.

He doesn’t even speak this time, just looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and hooking his fingers into the top. The gentle tugging and ideas of what were to come drove you to lift your hips and let out a gentle whine. As soon as he felt your hips lift up, he was undoing the button and tugging your jeans down your legs. They were discarded on the floor beside your shirt within seconds of finally being freed from your legs.

You felt arousal drip into a pool un your stomach, causing your slick to pool in your panties as you waited for him to remove them. Instead, shock hit you as you felt his tongue press against your core through the silk material of your panties.

“Kenny!” you gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes were closed in what looked like bliss, lips pressed against your clothed entrance. He didn’t open his eyes, even when you laced a hand into his hair and tugged slightly.

Kenny pulled away slightly, lips still ghosting your panties as he mumbled something. You couldn’t hear it, but you didn’t have time to ask about it as he pressed his mouth against you again. It felt amazing, even through your panties.

It doesn’t last much longer as Kenny presses his hands against the outsides of your thighs. Pushing against them slightly and moving upwards until his fingers are slipping under the thin straps that hug your hips. He pulls away far enough to slide off your panties, letting them drop one he’s pulled them off your knees. You take a second to kick them off properly, tossing them in a direction you’re not quite sure of. They were probably gonna be lost in Kenny’s room until he cleaned up a little.

You look down as him, watching him carefully as he stares at your dripping core. Embarrassment rises in your chest as you watch him stare. Eventually it becomes too much and you let yourself fall back, pulling an arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your own elbow.

The feeling doesn’t last long though, as Kenny grabs your things, pulling them up onto his shoulders and tentatively pressing his lips against your now exposed core. Everything felt so sensitive as he began to run his tongue through your folds, groaning against your pussy. You manage another peak at the blond caged between your thighs, face contorted in pleasure as he eats you out. Deep moans reverberate from somewhere within his chest, rising though his throat and passing straight into your pussy.

Your thighs pull in tighter around his head as his tongue finds your clit, pressing small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The muscles in your lower stomach and leg begin to twitch as he stimulates the little swollen bud, pushing against it in was that your fingers could never achieve. Even with such little stimulation your back was already beginning to arch, legs bending to pull him in closer against you.

“Fuck, Kenny…” You mumble, feeling a hand trace gentle yet calming circles on your outer thigh. They kept you in the moment, seeming to stop you from floating off and pulling you back into his mattress.

“You taste so good.” You barely hear him as he mumbles his words against your cunt. His voice carried something so loving that you couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh, pulling at his soft locks slightly.

Your ankles cross as he pushes his mouth harder against you, tongue moving to run through your folds and press against your clit in a repetitive motion. It was driving you mad, the perfect feeling.

Slowly, the hand that had been practically massaging your thigh came to trace the underneath of it, never breaking contact with your skin as It moved. You felt it travel further, eventually moving to your inner thigh before gently tracing your entrance.

One of Kenny’s finger dipped into your cunt, only slipping in up to the second knuckle before pulling out again. You could feel your pussy fluttering as he did it again, sliding in a little further this time. He kept doing it, pulling his finger out and gently sliding it back in, until he reached the base of this finger – then he stopped being so careful. His finger began to pump into you a bit faster, curling up against your soft walls. You were already squirming, but it only gets worse as Kenny continues swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit.

His moaning only serves to drive you further towards the edge, making your face scrunch up in pleasure as his face begins to move, encouraging you to grind your hips against his face. And you did. He begins to moan more, and you half expect him to grab your hip and pull you in closer, only to feel him shift below you and hear him start to whimper.

The pleasure was only building up in your body, dripping and pooling into a white-hot puddle in your belly. Back arching and other hand digging into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer against you. His tongue felt like it was working magic with every flicker, searing pleasure shooting though your body.

Your climax edged ever closer, only pushed by the fact that you could feel Kenny’s arm moving. Everything about the moment felt perfect.

Finally, the rope snapped and you were sent tumbling over the edge, thighs tensing and hands tugging at his hair. You became deaf to your own moans, his name tumbling form your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

You felt like you were floating as you finally began to come down from your high. Kenny’s head was still pressed neatly between your legs, blond locks now messy and covering his eyes. However, he didn’t move, slit gently lapping at your now encroaching overstimulated pussy. His hand working faster to finish himself as he kept his focus on you.

Whimpers began to fill your throat and mouth, spilling into the air, accompanied by the wet sounds of your own pleasure and the quiet murmurs of his. His moaning got louder, lips finally separating from your hot core so his face could press into your thigh, gasping against your soft skin as he pushed himself further and further towards the edge.

“Fuck… (Y/n)...” he was speaking into your thigh as your hands still scratched lightly at his scalp, hips bucking up into his fist and panting. You could hear him reaching his own end, mumbling words bubbling up in what seemed like begging.

Kenny finally reached his end, body twitching and free hand gripping your thigh. He buried his face into your soft skin, nuzzling slightly as he rode through his high. His hand stopped, pulling away from himself and moving to rest on your thigh.

His face stayed there for a moment, regaining his breath recovering from the feeling. The warmth of his breathing puffing against your thighs was comforting and almost began to lull you into sleep. You could feel your mind slipping, drifting away as your eyes fought it stay open.

In your half-awake state, you could feel Kenny rise, pressing his palms against your thighs to help himself up. He gently rubbed his hands against the hot, soft skin in small, soothing motions.

Kenny leant down, pressing a kiss against your neck, holding himself chest to chest with you for a second. His voice was gentle as he mumbled something into your ear that you didn’t really pick up, both hands cupping your hips, thumbs massaging the skin.

A whine is pulled from your throat as his warmth is peeled away from your body. You reach up, eyes still closed, searching for the body that has already left. The faint noise of feet padding out of the door lets you know he’s leaving.

After a few minutes, you heard Kenny renter the room. His body once again moved to rest between your thighs. Shivers ran through your body when a warm washcloth pressed against your thighs, cleaning where his hands had pressed against you. You let out a light whimper as he pressed it against your core, gently cleaning you.

“Are you ok?” His voice was soft, causing you to crack your eyes open to look at his face. His soft blue eyes scanned your face, waiting for a reaction. You couldn’t summon much more than a small nod, feeling yourself melt into the mattress.

There was a small shuffle as hands slid under you, moving you until your body was laying properly on the bed. The mattress dipped as a warm body slipped in next to you. Kenny’s warmth was once again pressed against your bare skin, a hand sliding around your body until his hand was pressed into your back, keeping you pressed against him. You didn’t fight this, nuzzling into his warmth, your face pressing against his chest. The gentle hands of sleep finally took you, letting you fall into that floating feeling as you listened to Kenny breathe just above your head.

Number 1 Supporter

Captain Price x reader

How Price would react to you “helping him out” while he’s trying to sort things out.

Price is trying to sort out the more clerical side of dealing with 141 when you walk in

He’s happy to see you and pricks up even more when he notices that you’re wearing a pair of shorts and his shirt

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” He mumbles, kissing your neck and you slip into his lap, wrapping his arms around you

Really wishes he could just forget about all this and wrap you up in his arms, get comfy in his bed and fall asleep

It’s in this moment of him zoning out that you slip off his lap and slide under the desk, positioning yourself neatly between his legs

“What do you think you’re doing down there?” He asks, hand coming to rest on the side of your face. His thumb strokes small circles over your cheek while he looks at you with something akin to absolute adoration.

“Nothing Sir~” you’re running your hands up and down his inner thighs.

The second Price hears you address him as “Sir”, he knows he’s in for a good time - and possibly a long night. You only ever do that when you’re planning something.

He doesn’t get a chance to ask you what you’re scheming about before your hands are on his belt. The clinking sound of you pulling on the metal is quickly replaced by the sound of a zipper opening.

“I still have work to do sweetheart.” It’s a pathetic attempt at a protest that he really hopes you brush off. And you do, much to his delight.

“Don’t worry Sir, you won’t even notice I’m here~” your voice is sweet as honey as your palm comes to cup his clothed dick.

Price inhales sharply, relaxing slightly in his chair and feeling himself already growing hard. Your hand keeps moving, applying just enough pressure for him to get hard. It’s not long before you’re pulling his boxers down, freeing his cock from its constraints.

“This your plan all along?” His voice is gruff and breathy, eyes fixed on you while you lick your palm.

“Don’t you have work do be getting on with?” You completely ignore his question.

Wrapping your spit-lubed hand around his cock causes Price to lean back in his chair, head falling backwards so he can stare at the ceiling. It’s been far too long since you touched him.

Soft, small strokes drive him crazy, make him want to command more. But he doesn’t, something tells him that waiting will give him better results.

“I’m just here to give you some… support, while you work. So best get working,” you purr out, starting to stroke his aching cock harder and faster.

Groaning, Price rolls his chair forwards slowly, trapping you in the space under his desk. He leans forwards, looking at the laptop and trying his best to concentrate. But with your hand wrapped so perfectly around his cock, he’s finding it incredibly hard.

Concentrating becomes even harder when he feels your tongue press against the head of his cock. He can feel misled twitch against the warmth of your tongue. You let his tip sink into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it in delicate and precise movements.

After a few seconds, you begin to push your head further down. Price can’t stop himself from pressing his hips up at the sensation, seeking more and more from you. And you don’t stop him - you don’t even want to.

His hand tangles in your hair, work now completely forgotten. You don’t say anything, instead closing your eyes and relaxing your throat to pull as much of him in as possible. He hits the back of your throat and you hold back a gag, instead digging your fingertips into the fabric covering his thigh.

“Fuck sweetheart…” Price growls, holding your head in place for a second.

As soon as he lets you go, you pull off his cock, sucking in a deep breath of air. Price looks concerned but you brush it off, pushing your head all the way back down on his cock.

You bob your head rather quickly, hollowing your cheeks and gripping his thighs. His moans are muffled by the hand he’s pressed over his mouth. The muffled sounds of his pleasure upset you, you want to hear him properly - you want to hear every tiny sound he makes because of you.

In remedy to this, you begin to press your tongue against the underside of his cock. Long, languid movements that draw the most delicious moans out of your boyfriend and superior. They fill the air, piercing the barrier of his hand, filling your mind with the filthiest ideas of what you could do to hear these sounds again later.

“Sweetheart I’m-” he tries to speak, chocking on air as you push your head all the way down, taking him fully inside of you.

He starts to thrust into your mouth, desperate to keep rhythm with you. It’s a pitifully failed attempt caused by the way his hips stutter with every upwards thrust.

Very quickly, Price’s movements become sloppy and fast. Chasing an orgasm that you’re tempted to deny so you can hear the way he whines at the lost pleasure. You decide against it, instead putting in as much effort as you can to match his pace.

It doesn’t take long before Price finally cums, painting your throat white and filling your mouth with a bitter taste. You don’t bother trying to pull off while his hand is still tangled in your hair. Instead, you swallow around his cock, drinking down everything he’s given you.

After a few seconds, he lets you pull off and slides his chair out slightly. A small hand gesture has you climbing up and onto his lap again, straddling his hips. Neither of you bother to pull his boxers back up for the time being.

Price pulls you into a quick kiss, full of passion and love. He leans into your neck once the kiss is over, planting small, feather light kisses over your pulse point. His hands massage the flash of your thighs and hips.

“How about we head back to my room and I’ll return the favour sweetheart?~” His voice drips with passion and lust as he mumbles the question against your skin.

“Sounds amazing Sir~”

The shy ones are always the kinkiest

—————

König x Fem!Reader

Part 1, Part 2

König transfers over to task force 141, looking for a bit of a fresh start. He’s equal parts nervous and excited (mostly nervous, let’s not lie) about meeting a new team. He finds himself unable to control his thoughts when he meets you, as they tend to stray in a more “adult” direction. So here are the 4 times he didn’t get caught and the 1 time he does, thinking about you

1. Meeting the team

König had been looking for a new job for a while before being given the opportunity to join TF141. He was a little hesitant at first, some part of him not wanting to leave the KorTac behind, but another part of him was excited about the idea of something slightly different.

It’s a day in late April when he arrives, air still ever so slightly cold with a post winter chill. Captain Price is standing outside, waiting for him, arms crossed and hat tilted down slightly to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Good to see you’ve arrived on time, everyone else is inside,” he speaks in a gruff voice, not unkind but definitely strict.

König follows the older man inside, careful of the fact that he’s got a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He can’t help but try and shrink in on himself, nerves prickling in the new atmosphere.

He’s greeted with the sight of Soap’s and Gaz’s backs, shielding him from looking at a small table in the corner of the rec room. There’s a large commotion surrounding the table, cheering from the two who he can see.

“Break it up, we’ve got someone here.” Price interrupts the situation, making Soap whip around and Gaz jump slightly.

As soon as the other two are out of the way, König is met with you and Ghost, locked in an arm wrestle. Your brows are furrowed as you try and push Ghost’s arm down, the hand that isn’t clasped in his is gripping the side of the table.

König can’t help but stare at your hand, the white knuckle grip you have on the table causing your hand to look so good. He can’t stop his mind from wondering, going places it really shouldn’t. He couldn’t help but think about how pretty your hand would look wrapped around his neck.

A loud bang interrupts the wondering of his mind, forcing him to come back to reality. You’ve been defeated, hand and upper arm pinned to the table under Ghost’s.

“Wonderful, now you children have done, this is König, he’s joining 141, as you all know,” Price speaks again with that gruff voice, gesturing to König.

“Don’t scare him off.” Is the last thing Price says before he grumbles something about needing do sort something out and leaving.

“Nice to meet you big guy.” You’re on your feet almost immediately, approaching König and holding out hand out.

He takes it, noticing just how much bigger his hand is compared to yours. König’s face burns hot with embarrassment from his previous thoughts.

“Nice to meet you too.”

2. Sparring with Soap

The next time König meets you, it’s in the gym. It’s less of a meeting and more of a chance encounter considering he had been going out of his way to avoid you as much as he could without it getting suspicious.

He was just going to work out, trying to go later in the day to avoid anyone else. But his plan didn’t work, as both you and Soap were in the gym.

The second he walks in, his ears are met with your sounds of distress. It almost sends him into panic mode, heart starting to race at the thought that you might be in trouble.

You are in trouble, but not in the way that he thought you were. Instead, he finds you pinned under Soap. His chest is pressed to your back while yours is pressed to the mat you’re both on. Your hips are raised slightly, causing your ass to push back into Soap’s crotch. He pins your arms above your head, thighs on the outside of yours. He’s caging you completely in place, and your sounds of “distress” are actually just you growling and muttering things while you try to get him off.

König immediately finds that same blush from before rising to his face, bringing a burning redness with it that he can just feel. With the burning come the thoughts. The ideas of pressing you down like that, intentionally grinding himself against you while you struggle and squirm to get free. How small and fragile you’d look, pinned under him, held down by his much larger hands.

“Ok! Ok fine! I tap out!” He hears you shout, sharply grounding him in reality again. The shout is accompanied by a rapid slapping sound - you beating your open hand against the mat.

Soap gets off you, letting you roll onto your back. With splayed arms, you stare up at the Scot, a disapproving look plastered on your face.

“I did nothing wrong!” Soap proclaims through poorly veiled laughter, reaching down to help you up. He pulls you a bit too hard, causing you to colapse forwards into his chest.

“Whatever,” you grumble, pushing yourself off of him and crossing your arms.

“Don’t be bitter cuz you lost!” Soap practically squeaks as he says it, fake hurt laced in his voice as you turn your back to him.

As you do, you’re met with the image of König stood with his hand in the still open door, frozen perfectly walking into the room. The Austrian had never been so glad to be wearing a thick hoodie as he is now.

“Hey big guy, nice to see you again.” You smile at him, walking over.

He swallows hard, dreading trying to hold a conversation but far too nervous to run away.

3. Joining a meeting

Despite his best efforts, König finds it harder and harder to try and avoid you. With such a bubbly and outgoing personality, you seem to be practically everywhere all of the time. And it doesn’t get any easier when Price calls a meeting about something or other midway through a rather hot day in May.

König isn’t paying attention to his Captain at all, however, as you’re sat across from him wearing a pair of workout shorts and a vest that sits a little too low.

He can’t help his mind wondering, trying his best to conceal the fact that his eyes are doing the same. They’re tracing down your body, looking from your partially exposed cleavage to the way your shorts pull in on the fat of your thighs ever so slightly.

The image of getting his hands on your pops into his head. Soft, warm flesh giving way under his hands, so tender when he grips it. Pulling you out of the meeting, pushing your top up and pawing at your breasts. Watching the way your squirm at the roughness of the fabric on your delicate skin.

How well your thighs would mould to the shape of his hands if he just reached over and grabbed them. How nice it might be to hold you up by them, have them wrapped around his waist with his hands on the underside.

“Are you paying attention solider?” Price snaps, immediately drawing König back to reality.

“Yes- Yes sir,” he stammers out, pupils constricting and head snapping towards Price, who stands at the head of the table looking extremely disappointed.

“I doubt that.” Price pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “I’ll talk to you later. The rest of you are dismissed, continue with your day.”

And with that, everyone but König is leaving the room. His eyes catch a glimpse of you leaving and he can’t help but think of an English saying he’s heard before - ‘hate to see you leave but love to watch you go’. He’s pretty sure it applies right now.

4. Watching you cook

Early in the morning, König wakes from a nightmare that he can’t remember at all. It’s stresses him out enough that he can’t go back sleep, no matter how much he tosses and turns. Instead of continuing to suffer in his bed, he opts to get up and go to get a drink.

The base is almost completely silent, apart from a sizzling sound coming from the shared kitchen. As soon as he hears the sound, he can smell something too - cooking bacon. Whoever is up this early has decided it’s time for breakfast.

He sneaks his way to the door, leaning on it slightly, surprisingly quiet for his massive size. The door creaks slightly as he opens it, but the noise doesn’t disturb the people inside.

Ghost is sat at the table, arms crossed and head placed on top of them. He seems like he’s sleeping, hunched over himself in an incredibly uncomfortable looking position. While you’re stood at the stove, a small stack of pancakes stood on a plate next to you while you cook bacon.

“Hey, it’s ready,” you call over your shoulder, using the spatula that you had been using to flip the bacon to place it on the plate. Ghost picks his head up at the sound of your voice, still wearing his balaclava.

“That’s way too much for me,” he grumbles, tired voice catching in his throat.

“Ok, I’ll split it, but I don’t really want any.” You split the pancakes in half, along with the bacon. What’s left is still a rather large stack.

“But it’ll be wasted.” Ghost sits up, picking up the maple syrup you had previously placed on the table.

“I’m sure someone will have it.” You place the plate on the side, covering it with a piece of tinfoil.

You hoist yourself onto the counter, sitting with your legs parted ever so slightly. It’s not they König can see that you’re wearing nothing but a baggy shirt and a pair of short shorts. The shorts leave little to the imagination, showing off your inner thighs.

Once again, König finds himself having dirty thoughts. The idea of sliding in between your thighs, spreading them apart with his body, having them open to give him room.

Before his thoughts can go any further, he notices the problem that’s started to arise in his pants. König knows he can’t hang around any longer and so turns back to his room, deciding to take care of himself.

5. Alone in the rec room

König finds a rest bite from your constant presence in the rec room. Everyone else seems to be taking advantage of the sun and the pleasant heat outside, including you. All while he sits alone, splayed out on the couch, letting his body rest.

He’s counting on you not coming inside, but luck doesn’t seem to be on his side. You make your way into the rec room, flipping down onto the couch right beside him.

“Too hot out there for you?” He tries not to look at you as you speak. But puf if the corner of his eye he can see you, splayed out, legs spread.

“Ja, just a little,” he gets out, tilting his head backwards, facing the ceiling and letting his eyes fall closed.

“Yeah, I’m surprised the others can stay out there this long. ‘Specially considering that Soap is refusing to wear sunscreen,” you chuckle lightly, looking at König. “He’s gonna burn like a marshmallow.”

König only gives a short chuff in response to your comment, keeping his eyes shut, desperately trying to stop myself from looking at you. He knows if he does, he won’t be able to hide his thoughts this time.

Despite his best efforts, his mind starts to wonder. The idea of pulling you into his lap clouds his mind, making his skin prickle with more heat than if he was bathed in direct sunlight. Hair on his arms and the back of his neck stands on end, causing him to shiver despite the heat.

“You ok?” Your hand comes to rest on his knee as you lean forwards, looking at him in concern. He snaps his head forwards, looking at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“I… Cannot stop thinking about you…” he can’t hold his tongue it seems. Nor his hands, as one comes to rest over the top of yours.

He sees the look on your face, the red flush, the way your eyes flicker down his body for a fraction of a second. Suddenly, he’s sure that you’re having the same thoughts.

“Mein liebling… if you feel the same, all you must do is say…” his hands squeezes over yours, holding it against his thigh.

You chuckle, squeezing his thigh on your own before slipping your hand out form under his. You haul yourself up, putting your hands in your pockets and rocking on the balls of your feet slightly.

“Well… I’ll see you in my room later,” your voice drips with something König didn’t know he wanted so badly. He doesn’t get a chance to respond as you walk out if the rec room, most likely wanting to join the others outside again.