#konig is grumpy

[iifishizzleii]

könig & gaz - first meet

rare ship alert lmao. unedited :]

könig, who’s sent by kortac (much to his displeasure) on a co-op with task force 141.

he doesn’t like how they work, how their attention will divert from the mission the moment it comes to protecting civilians.

if there’s a chance that innocent lives can be saved, könig will do what he can. but, he won’t compromise a mission over a few lives, because what’s war without sacrifice? (not that their sacrifice means anything in the end, but to be fair, if you see a group of military men rushing one way, why wouldn’t you run the other way?) he has a job, and it’s a job that pays him to take lives. not save them.

the 141, on the other hand, work like they are. and it’s fucking annoying because they suddenly have a conscious for the lives they’re taking, as if the soldiers they’d killed in the field weren’t civilians in gear— as if they weren’t men who were someone’s husband, son, or father. but what does könig know? he’s just a colonel who’s been on the field longer than even price.

(the truth is, könig wasn’t raised knowing the value of human life. his father hated his mother, and his mother hated that he looked like his father. when he was diagnosed with social anxiety, it was just a label to the skin-crawling feeling he got whenever somebody stared at him for too long, the fraying to his nerves when the voices around him made the ones in his head scream louder. people had never done könig any good in his life. so, what did they deserve from him?)

he was forced to a briefing with the 141, and they were as insufferable as he remembered. price, with his unintelligible bear grunting that had könig leaning left because the hearing in his right ear had dulled, and the odor of cigarettes and stress that always followed him. ghost, who‘s staring was like a dissection he felt tugging at every nerve, dull eyes watching könig from across the table in a way that made the taller man want to peel out his eyes. soap, the blabbering bastard that never knew how to sit still without brushing up cozy against the masked lieutenant. all three of them were ripe for early retirement by könig’s hand, testing him with every indirect jab and comment made at the expense of their former enemy. then, a fourth man könig hadn’t bothered sparing any attention for asks price and question, and he turns.

his name was gaz. that’s what könig was told, at least, though he doubted it was the brit’s real name. not that he gave a shit. and ‘gaz’ was no older than thirty five.

he stood to price’s right, staring down at the map on the table with a sharp focus könig noticed. and while they weren’t many things on this Earth he enjoyed, one thing könig could appreciate was a weapon that was as lethal as it was transfixing.

he has big, brown eyes that swam with emotion, something könig’s bitter heart wouldn’t know a thing about. full, tanned cupid bow lips twisted into a thoughtful frown as price and laswell discussed their plans for the mission. his skin was copper, unlike the pale complexions könig was accustomed to seeing on Al Mazrah and Ashika Island. he has thick brows and sharp nose, and when he folds his arms across his chest, his biceps bulge under the grey-blue button up shirt he wears. the curve of his ass and muscled thighs are hugged by his tactical cargo pants.

he wasn’t stocky like soap, nor was he as intimidatingly huge as price or ghost. it was anything larger in size, after all, that people’s attention naturally gravitated to. könig would know. and between the four of them, gaz sits directly in the middle of being physically dominating. and it’s that which interests könig, because while any other less experienced man would chalk gaz’s size up to his skill, he knew better. gaz had every good of a chance of killing him as the rest of the men did. maybe even more, now that könig was aware of how his presence effected the group, and how easily gaz could use to his advantage.

“hübsche klinge,” könig muttered under his breath.

but, awareness seemed to lose meaning as he watched the young man across the room, dark eyes trailing up the thin fabric stretched across gaz’s stomach before lowering to watch his narrow hips as shifts to face price.

then soap cracks a joke and könig would have condemned him for it, unused to such easy going attitude while prepping for a mission, but the sight of gaz’s lips uncurling into a the barest hints of grin make könig freeze. he’s a grown man for christ’s sake, a force of nature feared by enemies and revered by allies. not even the sight of a his own family’s mangled corpses could sway him.

yet, watching that small grin on gaz’s face bloom into a full smile, an exasperated but amused laugh escaping plush lips at soap’s joke, has könig tightening his fists at his side, tracking the way gaz’s eyes crinkle in the corner from the stretch of his smile, his arms unfolding just to refold them oppositely.

könig decides at that moment that out of all the 141, gaz would be the biggest hindrance.

[nik-barinova]

The evolution of König x Cleric since 2023

[coolrpblog]

" shut up and let me help you. " - Ghost @ Konig

"Fine! It's not like I'm really in any position to really fight on this." A huff leaves the man as he crosses his arms over his chest now. Some shrapnel in his outer thigh and abdomen really have him not really being able to move. "At least it's on the outer thigh... otherwise I'd be a dead man."

[goatgoesmbe]

Singlefather!Konig who's socially anxious, with a very extroverted little daughter.

He would try to not make eye contact with anyone, looking brooding to intimidate anyone from talking to him. Only for the little girl to greet literally everyone she saw, making social interaction inevitable for him too.

Met you at a park. Thought you're really cute, but he was too anxious to do anything.

Like father like daughter. His little girl also found you pretty. The difference is that, she wasn't afraid to tell you about it directly.

He could only watch his daughter making a beeline towards you, leaving the playground.

And now, Konig is waiting for you two to stop talking. It's almost the little girl's nap time, and they need to go home or he knew she would be tired and grumpy the rest of the day. But he didn't feel like joining in the conversation, just thinking about talking to you made his palm sweaty, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

You, who doesn't know he's the dad. Is wary about the 2-meter-tall guy in a black hoodie and face mask, who kept looking at the little girl who was talking to you.

So you stayed with the little girl, afraid she would get kidnapped by him or something.

This went on for too long than Konig liked, he was just eager to get out of the public already.

You, who's now very concerned with him glaring like that, then asked the little girl about her parent's whereabout.

To your surprise, the girl pointed at the intimidating guy that you thought was a threat.

You were still a bit intimidated when he made his way to you, but then relaxed when you saw the girl tackled his leg.

You two got talking (more like, both of you listened while his daughter talk). And since you're not as scared as before now, you couldn't help but be intrigued with him.

He's cute in a way, which is odd to say to someone with that stature. But the way his eyes softened when he was looking at his daughter? how he looked like he tried to make himself smaller, and is that a blush peeking out of his mask whenever he glanced at you?

Konig didn't know when his daughter stopped talking, asleep in his arms, and now you're talking with him instead.

He found himself not in a rush to get home anymore.

[lusttoke]

PChan squishing his cheek against Konig's mask and face. Aggressive nuzzle, enough to cause a fire - maybe. PChan's just showing his love to them all.

".................................you.." he thought anyone who isn't a soldier would be avoiding Konig at any cost. He didn't have any friends at all until he joined the military. But this guy is hugging him and showing him affection like that.

Huge muscular arms wrapped around the other as he smooched him from behind the mask. " ......are we friends?"

[gremlingottoosilly]

Deaf!Reader are struggling to earn money to pay off their rent and living expenses, by handing out leaflets on the street X Mafia!Konig

(one time, I was walking past the metro, and there was this lady handing out leaflets to men. I wanted to take the leaflet as well because I always wanted to help the people who were handing it out, but she looked at me super weirdly when I took the leaflet. Turns out, it was a leaflet for illegal prostitution sites (sex work is banned in Czech Republic) You just needed money. The disability payments are dogshit and wouldn't even cover half of the expenses of renting your own place - but all the other jobs are basically blocked to you on the basis of not having enough resources to support a deaf worker. You know it's just their saying, they simply don't want to hire you even for brownie diversity points - but still, the only jobs that you could get without much of an education is something as shitty paying as handing leaflets. At least you can just not read the lips of people who are clearly cussing you out for bothering them with an abysmal task of accepting a thing piece of paper. Only, the gig is just a bit too shitty. It's illegal; technically, sex work is still as banned as always - you stare at the leaflets with half-naked women printed all over, disguised as dating websites, and you want to puke over how fucking terrible it looks. Still, they were paying a bit more than usual, and cops won't bother you as long as it's not a direct sex work endorsement. The people on the streets are having weird reactions, however... Konig had a shitty day and an even more annoying night. Having to oversee a big drug deal himself because Horangi was out dealing with some transgressors, and Krueger can't be trusted with customer service, he had to stay awake at ungodly hours just to finish the deal...and now there is some dumb girl handling him a leaflet for his fucking sex business like she doesn't know who he is and can't hear that he said he doesn't want it three times already and- He notices the way you stare at his lips and ignore the yelling of other people crowding around during rush hour at the station. Oh. Konig guesses even the illegal business of his had to get more open for workers with disability...although he looks at your cute lips and just knows he is ready to promote you from handling leaflets to never holding anything heavier than his hand (and his cock) ever again. Needless to say, you were terrified when this big, grumpy man in a suit just fucking grabbed you hand and pushed you into an unmarked and clearly dangerous-looking vehicle. Of course, sometimes people are annoyed at receiving brochures, but not to the point of kidnapping...and certainly not to the point of bringing you to their lap and then forcing a hand between your legs, squeezing and playing with the flesh like you were nothing but a stress toy. Not being able to read his lips since you were pressed so closely to him, terrified you even more...although his intensions are pretty clear when you felt a kiss pressed to your forehead, and a gentle hold on your neck until you finally passed out in his hands.

[charliemwrites]

As promised some time ago: Gaz!

The new house is… well, you don’t dislike it. It’s beautiful, already renovated while you were busy selling the old house. Just new, unfamiliar. You’re unaccustomed to the noises it makes, the shadows it casts, the echoes off the walls.

You’re not too proud to admit (to yourself and your dogs) that you’re a bit of a chicken the first couple weeks. Too many nights watching spooky media about people living in walls or stalking new tenants — despite Skipper’s best efforts. So you keep one or more of the dogs with you at all times, fingers in their fur and lights on as you go. Ghost has been especially tolerant, leaning against your leg when the sun goes down and the house feels too strange.

You’ve always been grateful for the peace of mind that four huge wolf-dogs brings, but never more than now. With several sets of teeth surrounding your bed and guarding your locked doors, they’ve made the transition so much easier on your nerves.

The new forest behind the house is also some cause for concern. The first day you brought them home, you went out by yourself for quick inspection of the yard and immediate area. Sharp-eyed looking for glass, metal, or anything else dubious.

You came back to four extremely grumpy pups and were basically bullied out of leaving them alone again. Skipper was especially huffy that night.

But things feel like they’re beginning to settle. You’ve gotten a bigger couch, bigger floor cushions. There’s a second story to this new house — or more of a half-floor really. A loft? It consists of the master bedroom, master bathroom, and a sort of open-spaced landing that you’re using as a satellite collection zone for toys.

Sometimes, when you’re on the couch, you’ll catch a bit of movement and get spooked by one of the boys staring from the railing that overlooks the den. Have fussed at wagging Johnny twice now for it.

Still, the transition to your new home has been as smooth as you could ask for with four giant, protective dogs. You miss the old place a bit; have the irrational fear that you’re going to miss another displaced dog in need of a home, but you try not to think about it.

Maybe you should have thought about it a little more.

One evening, you let the boys out for their pre-bed potty. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in your hand, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Winter will be setting in soon. It’s already cold enough to set your teeth on edge. Never mind that it’s been raining all day, only just letting up to light patter at sunset.

Commotion at the edge of the (much larger) yard catches your attention. All of your boys seem to be gathered around something. They’re not barking or growling, and from the dim porch light, you don’t see hackles raised but still. Anything that catches their attention is worth investigating.

Cursing under your breath, you set your mug aside, slip into some shoes, and snatch up your phone for the flashlight. It’s only when you’re halfway there that you remember to pray that it’s not something dead. Or dying. Or creepy.

“Please don’t let this be a spooky doll or something,” you whisper to yourself.

Skipper must hear you, because his head pops up. He doesn’t… look concerned. But he’s a dog, how would he know that something in the yard is of human concern?

He trots away from their little congregation to meet you, almost like he’s escorting you to whatever they’re gathered around. You realize why when the flashlight illuminates a ball of soaked fur.

“Oh,” you breathe, “oh no…”

You gently nudge Konig aside to kneel down, a dry sob bubbling up in the back of your throat when you hear a quiet, miserable mew. A pair of brilliant green eyes squint and shy from the light, wide and sad.

“Oh, baby,” you coo. “Please come here. C’mon.”

You slowly, carefully extend a hand. Palm up, just a couple fingers. You’re not as familiar with cats anymore, but you remember enough to know that there‘ll be no scooping it up, even if it needs help. It’ll have to come to you of its own accord.

Relief floods you when you get the briefest cursory sniffle, and then the kitty is bumping its head against your hand for a scritch. You take a moment to pet what you can, heart breaking a bit with each shiver in the cold.

You keep coaxing it closer, gentle words and patient petting, getting bolder with your touch. When it’s finally close enough, the faintest purr rattling in its chest, you decide to try.

Apart from a nervous glance, the cat remarkably tolerant about letting you wrap your now-wet blanket around it, then scooping it up.

“Oof, you’re a big kid, huh?” You mutter, pausing to get a better hold. The darkness and hunkering down to preserve body heat was deceptive. This cat feels huge. “That’s alright, I’m used to it.”

You breathe a huge sigh when you enter the house again. It’s toasty inside — or at least it feels that way after sitting in the cold rain for fifteen minutes.

The boys files in after you, politely shaking off at the door before stepping into the mudroom. (Another upgrade you’ve been extremely grateful for.

You pause, try to get your bearings. You’ve got four soaked dogs, one possibly hypothermic cat, and you.

Christ, sometimes you wish you had an extra pair of hands.

“Okay. Let’s get the heater first.”

It’s already going, so you just turn it up a bit more, warm enough to start drying everyone. Then you go to the cupboard, sparing an arm from your oversized bundle to extract a towel.

You cross back to the heater and sit down, gently nestling your cat-burrito into the well of your legs.

The same big green eyes blink up at you, another mewl comes from it.

“Hi,” you croon, “isn’t that better already? Much warmer in here.”

You present the towel for inspection, let it sniff and decide it’s non-threatening before gently wiping it along the clumped fur. The dogs, to your surprise, don’t crowd to investigate. Skipper stops by to give the cat a sniff, before ultimately flopping down against your hip. But the other three arrange themselves around you, watching, but giving you and the kitty some space.

Remarkably thoughtful of them, and you tell them as much, praising their good behavior. The kitty, in the meantime, just… stares. It’s been a long time since you interacted with one, but you don’t remember your grandma’s tabby being so…

“Can I help you, little one?” You ask, grinning when it blinks at you slowly. You brush a finger under its chin, grinning when its eyes go half-lidded and nearly cross. “You’re worse than my Johnny boy with the staring.”

You receive a huff for that and laugh softly, making kissy noises at him until his tail thumps against the absorbent floor mat.

The cat is back to staring, though, ears up. You hum and keep up the half-scratching, half-drying technique until its fur starts to fluff up and you can take proper stock of the animal you’ve just rescued.

You weren’t kidding about it being big. Biggest cat you’ve ever seen — you’d almost think it was wild if not for the sweet face. You’re sure you might have seen the breed somewhere before…

Maine coon, maybe? Or… Siberian something or other? It’s fluffy, that’s for sure. But even without all the fluff that’s beginning to poof out like a dirty cotton ball, it’s a big cat. Big enough to be an average dog.

You huff in amusement that more it dries out.

“You look like a little storm cloud,” you giggle. “Well, little being relative.”

You receive a more normal-sounding meow for that. It thrills you that it’s already sounding better. Less sad, for sure.

The purring even start up again, developing into a deep hum like a running motor. It’s instantly soothing, the same way listening to the dogs’ breathing is. It lulls you until you’re nearly dozing sitting up. Only the wet nose of Skipper against your cheek rousing you.

“Jesus, right,” you say, jolting. Take a drowsy look around. All the boys seem dry or mostly dry. The only damp spot left on your new feline friend seems to be the feet, which won’t take much longer. “Let’s get inside proper.”

You lock up the mudroom and turn the heater low again, then urge everyone into the den. The cat doesn’t even hesitate, threading cleverly between your moving legs as you shuffle to the kitchen.

You prep an extra bowl of food and leave it up for the cat where the dogs can’t get it. Give it one last stroke from head to tail before trudging for the bathroom.

Normally, you’d be more concerned about leaving a cat in a house full of dogs. But the boys proved already that they have no interest in hurting the cat, despite the earlier crowding. Figure there are plenty of places to hide if they do make the kitty uncomfortable regardless.

The hot shower only serves to thicken the drowsiness blanketing you, leaving you heavy-lidded and sluggish. You pull the curtain aside to the usual audience of huge eyes, a new pair among them — the cat perched on the bathroom sink.

When you lean to grab your towel, they stick their face close for a sniff and you pause, always patient for curious creatures. When the little nose gets too close to your mouth, you twist and drop a quick peck to its snout before leaning back. The flabbergasted look makes you laugh as you begin toweling off.

“What a funny little thing you are,” you coo. “Would you like to be mind.”

“Mrrrow!”

“Yeah, I made a good first showing, huh?”

You have absolutely zero supplies for a cat, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, you just want to climb into bed and conk out. Home-making and animal-saving takes a lot out of you.

As always, the furry procession to your room leaves you warm and happy. Johnny always the first to hop into bed, licking your shoulder when you climb in beside him. Konig takes your other side, much more willing to snuggle now that you have the California King mattress to accommodate your pack. Ghost licks at Skipper’s chin in the doorway, then jumps up to lie by your hip, cuddling Johnny.

Skipper comes up last, padding over to receive one last kiss from you before lying by your feet, on the side closest to the door. You’re less concerned about kicking him now with the extra room, and enjoy the heat for your toes.

You almost startle at the soft thump next to your head. Turn and blink to see big green eyes blinking down at you, a purr nearly rattling your brain.

“Oh, hi,” you murmur, “make yourself at home.”

The cat does just that, curling himself onto a pillow and pressing his forehead into your neck. You nearly melt as you flick off the light. It’s warm and quiet and dark, just the breathing of warm bodies and soft tap of rain.

“I love you all so much,” you whisper, fingers threading into Konig’s coat. “My loves.”

The house’s new echoes are still unfamiliar, so it’s just a product of being half-asleep that makes you think you hear voices in the middle of the night.

Main Story | Price pt. 2

Masterlist

[diejager]

bro make a fanfic about the reader and the ghost/konig WHEN THE READER WAS SHOT IN THE BUN ON THE MISSION AHAHAHHHAH LMAO (in the military helicopter when they were supposed to return, the reader was holding her butt, moaning, writhing in pain and trying to hide the pain)

That is a funny thought…

Shots Cw: gun violence, bb shots, tell me if I missed any.

You yelped when you were hit is the ass, flinching forward and raising your arm just as you turned to glare at whoever landed the shot. Your right cheek exploded in soreness, tingling from the sharp pain of a BB shot.

“Hit!” You called it, letting your rifle hang from your shoulder as you rubbed your right cheek, grumbling about the bastard, “On my fucking ass of all places.”

You walk towards the respawn with your arm up, still cussing out whoever shot you in the ass. You had a hunch about the shooter: Soap, who else had enough courage to shoot you in the ass. You doubted Gaz did it, he might’ve been tempted, but he preferred other type of pranks, more mischievous ones like tampering with the washer or drinks, harmless but hilarious. Soap, however, rarely knew the limit, going as far as stealing and hiding your stuff, tapping you in the ass or messing up your head while he cackled away, speeding off to Ghost or Price to escape your wrath.

You reasoned that this was a staged scenario, a small group activity Laswell came up with that landed your Task Force somewhere in France for game of airsoft, a Free for all in the reserved location. No one had complained, thinking it a good activity mixing fun, training and awareness —everyone agreed to it enthusiastically once Ghost had voiced his grumpy acceptance, seeing this as a moment to be able to training without the prying eyes of others or the presence of strangers. Once you reached the spawn point, your jump back in to land a few shots at Soap to see whether or not he liked getting his ass bruised by a BB. You walked off determined, mind narrowed down to a single goal, your retaliation—

Until you yipped a second time, a pellet bouncing off your second cheek. You whipped around, yelling as your eyes scoured the tree line and the openings in the buildings behind you, the windows, the roof and behind pillars. You couldn’t find Soap anywhere, he wasn’t hiding behind the trees or in the buildings, but you did catch the glint of a scope —a familiar sniper scope.

“Ghost, you son of a bitch!” You screamed in outrage, feeling how both cheeks throbbed with pain. You bared your teeth, hissing at your Lieutenant who seemed smug and comfortable in his high perch on the roof of the building, “Why’d you do that?! I was already out!”

”Big target, luv,” his amused voice cracked in your comm, the low rumble of sadistic pleasure ringing out in your headgear. He cocked his scope, his white mask standing starkly in his dark gear and broad figure, “Impossible to miss. Quit moaning.”

“Big target? Are you-!” Huffing at his continued laughter, you glared his way before you turned to hurry back to the respawn, “Let’s see who’s laughing later, you ass.”

“Fuck- Hit!”

Your shoulders shook with restrained laughter, admiring the way Ghost jumped from your perch, hidden in the darkness given by the cement wall. You listened to him hiss and swear, massaging the place you aimed for: the pronounced curve of his ass, his jeans rarely doing him the pleasure of hiding what he had.

“Quit moaning, Ghost,” you cackled as you parroted his words, telling him the same thing as he told you, but you had more to add, more to taunt and tease him as revenge, “Couldn’t miss it, Lt, it was a big fucking target.”

You watched him stomp off, retreating to the tree line for his spawn point. It filled with a sense of elation and ugly smugness, and all that was left now, was to find Soap.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny’s yelp felt more exciting than Ghost, something you could devour over and ove without regret.

“Not so fun, is it, Johnny?” You smirked, replying with a gleeful tone.

He looked red-faced, the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red from the way you spoke to him, utilising his known weakness and playing him to watch him stutter and flush brightly.

“Awa’ a bile yer heid! That hurt, lass!” His voice had taken a whinier tone, face screwed in embarrassment and something that you couldn’t put your finger on at this distance.

“I know, shouldn’t have shot me in the ass then.”

Gaz tapped you on the shoulder, a smile threatening to break into chuckles. He’d known what happened to you and knew what you did in retaliation, finding amusement after siding with you, sitting beside you and peering at two frowning and mumbling men.

“Heard you had a lot of fun.”

“Not enough.”

You thought you heard Price sigh tiredly.

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx

[gremlinmodetweeker]

More of Cat Hybrid!König and Horangi and some sketches. There's no doubt in my mind that Horangi loves to torment König as much as possible. König, despite not being that old, is a grumpy old man.

Konig Art

[lily-lovelyy]

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓

Warnings; smut, violence, gore, talk of virginity loss, virginity loss, breeding kink, kidnapping?(Technically), grumpy reader, Roman!Konig

Part 1 of ???

I am very excited to get started on this, I've always liked the old Roman Konig prompts! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

You'd head stories, hell all of your village people had. The legend of a Roman champion, who took down entire cities and killed armies single-handed.

You yourself always rolled your eyes or snickered when you heard these tales, because 'who could conquer an entire army by himself?'.

You soon figured that out, two soldiers threw you to the ground, the dirt grooving it's way under your fingernails. Your wet, tear stained face felt burning hot and your head hung, too nervous to look up.

"Salută-ți regele." One of the soldiers behind you spoke, his boot kicking your leg, bringing a stinging pain through it. You sniffled, slowly moving your eyes up to greet his pale blue ones.

He was big, so big. Bigger than any soldier here. He looked out of place, as if he was a god standing amongst men. Scars littered his exposed arms, but you couldn't see past his shrouded face.

"Ach, was hast du mir heute mitgebracht?" The man asked, looking at the two soldiers behind him. "O curvă." They spoke, your brows furrowed trying to understand their foreign tongue.

The man looked you up and down, finally deciding to take a seat. He huffed, almost as if he was annoyed with their presence. "Verlass uns." He spoke again, making a waving motion with his hand.

The two men grunted before turning away and leaving. You watched him with watchful eyes, wondering what he would do next. Take you as a slave? Rape you? Kill you? Your mind raced, terrified.

After a few more moments, he flicked his wrist, motioning for you to stand. He stalked towards you, and you tried to back away before he took hold of your arm in an almost bruising grip. "Hübsch." He spoke, almost fondly. You wished you'd understood his native tongue.

"W-what?" You whispered, your tears flowing freely again. Was he demanding something of you? He tilted his head, his eyes scrunching with what seemed to be amusement.

"Ein s��ßer Kleiner, perfekt für mich." He chuckled, before leading you over to the large expanse of his bed, which was covered in large and luxurious furs. You wondered how many people he had killed to get those.

You breathed unevenly, this was the moment you dreaded, he was going to rape you. Your tears fell harder, you tried to stifle your sobs to the best of your ability. His head cocked to the side, and he walked over to the table, picking up a pitcher and pouring water into a small, clay cup.

He walked over, handed it to you and waited. He watched until you finally brought it to your lips, drinking in deeply. "Thank you.." you whispered, handing the cup back. He smiled, you thought since you couldn't tell other than from his eyes.

Slowly, he began to undress, your heart sank. You couldn't possibly fight him off, he was at least four times your size, built of muscle and strength.

You froze, staring at him in fear. All you could do was try and brace yourself the best to your ability for what was coming, slowly, he sauntered over to you. He was built with muscle, towering over you. Scars also littered his torso and his legs and arms. He looked like he's gone to battle many times.

He reached the bed, extending a hand to caress your face. He brought his face down, breathing in your scent. You shook with fear. Slowly, he lowered himself to knees, spreading your dress open to reveal your bare cunt. Undergarments were a luxury your family weren't able to afford. At least when they were alive.

"p-please...don't..." You hiccupped, trying your best to scramble away. The man looked up at you and stood. His head cocking to the side, questioningly. "Du meinst...nein?" He wondered, before nodding to himself and redressing. You sat there, shocked.

By now, most if not all of the men in his camp would have beaten and raped you bloody, but why'd didn't he? You were thankful regardless. "Du hast ... Angst. Ich werde dir etwas Zeit allein geben, Kleines." He spoke, before moving the flap of his tent and leaving.

Moments after he left, you sobbed loudly, your body wracking with sobs and cries. You felt grief flood you, the death of your family, of your chief and your friends. Your village had barely made it through the fall, your crops dying and the soil becoming dry and dead from the lack of rain, only to be slaughtered by the Romans.

You laid back, holding yourself as you cried. And slowly, you cried yourself to sleep, huffing slow and uneasy breaths as you let sleep take you.

★★★

This is the first part/chapter so let me know what you think of it! The German/Romanian is also roughly translated so don't quote me on some of this! 😭💗

[celestialprincesse]

WHEN I SAY NEED I MEAN NEED!!

The 141 + Konig with their s/o wearing a pheromone perfume just to tease them or simply just for fun to see their reaction while they are turning FERAL to get another wiff of that addictive smell.

(u could just skip this but if you have free time and willing to is an absolute)

Thank yew besty, i can sleep in peace now. 😌

Anon baby?! You cute toot little genius megamind?! Also I can't believe this is my first time writing for König? Anywho����

Price buys all of his s/o's perfumes, knows the scents they like and their favourite notes and therefore buys them a perfume for every occasion or at any airport duty free he manages to browse. Because of this, he has a tendency to bury his nose in their neck, or kiss the insides of their wrists, the smell of them alone allowing him to think back to the day they got married or the night he proposed. When he stuffs his nose between the crook of their neck and their hair, and doesn't recognise the scent they're wearing, he's immediately confused, leaving his face smooshed against them whilst he tries to work out what it is they're wearing that smells so delicious. They're just trying to reply to some emails whilst he's literally got his face buried in the back of their neck, sniffing loudly as he tries to get their attention. "You got new perfume?" He grumbles lustfully, voice halfway between a low grunt and a breathless rumble. "Mhm. You like it?" "Smells fuckin' delicious - smells like sex." "Sex?" You giggle incredulously. "Sex. Speaking of which, come to bed."

Gaz loves when the smell of his s/o lingers around their home and reminds him of them. He loves when his head hits the pillow of the bed and their sweet shampoo lingers in their shared space, or when he puts on one of the hoodies they've borrowed and it still smells of them. When he comes home from an errand to them sat watching their favourite show on the TV, he practically lays on top of them like some kind of human weighted blanket, stuffing his face up their shirt with a deep sigh. "Smell good." He grumbles into the warm skin of their sternum. "Yeah?" Your hum, scratching your nails soothingly into his scalp, to which he only gives a contented hum of approval. He spends the afternoon just sort of nosing at their skin, and ends up falling asleep in their shirt.

Johnny is just generally feral. This man uses all of their fancy creams and lotions, just generally doesn't share the boundaries that some couples would have. He'd spot the perfume on their bathroom counter straight away, probably brush it off too. He doesn't really pay it much mind how good they smell until they're both pottering around the kitchen together making dinner. He'll just sort of inch closer until he's grabbing their wrist where they've spritzed a tiny bit of the perfume that morning and proceeded to forget about it. He's so weird about showing his affection too, probably nipping at them and licking them throughout the day, confused as to why they're more alluring and attractive than normal. His mind races with thoughts of maybe they're ovulating or he's got some kind of weird hormonal guy thing going on. Whatever it is, he's all over them all evening, and practically pawing their clothes off when they get to bed.

Simon gets grumpy when he can't control himself around them. He's a man who prides himself on his ability to remain stoic and impassive, not to mention the fact that he hates feeling like some out of control, lovesick teenage boy. He gets all huffy and puffy, and his s/o is like genuinely concerned for him, so much so that he walks in on them in the bathroom scrubbing at their neck and wrists with a loofah. "The fuck are you doing?" He grunts with an inquisitive, amused raise of his eyebrow. "I - um - spilled something?" "Like that 'pheromone' stuff I got the purchase notification on my bank app for?" "Whaaaaaat? No! Maybe." He just sort of chuffs at their oversight, and the fact that he'd literally seen them browsing these faddy pheromone perfumes on the sofa right beside him.

König literally is just an animal. This man has very limited social decorum as is, at home? Yeah, no, gone. His boundaries are non existent, and he has a tendency to paw at his s/o, slip his hands down their pants or up their shirts daily. Wearing pheromone perfume doesn't help their cause. He spends the day following them around the house like a needy puppy, whining when they swat him away so that they can work or cook or go to the bathroom. He acts all grumbly and wounded and pathetic, and they promptly hide the pheromone perfume, deeming it more of a hindrance than a help, although it is kind of entertaining to see their nearly seven foot, sniper boyfriend so needy over something that they thought was a total scam. It doesn't stop him from practically dragging them to bed by the scruff of their neck, huffing about how he's been wanting them all day.

[nik-barinova]

I can’t decide which version I like better of König and my OC

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I can see konig being a total perv when his wife is pregnant. 😭

Like, he has his eyes on her chest like 24/7 and is amazed by how much her breast grew. And be turned on by her hips growing too.

Since he's territorial, just the thought of the reader carrying his child would make him go wild. Like them making a child together and joining bloodlines? Her body is going through all these changes because of him? I know he's heavy breathing just thinking abt it 😭.

Mm-hmm 😳 *nodding furiously*

König is a boobs man, I fear, and seeing her breasts getting bigger and heavier makes him feel dizzy in the head. And he's been through a lot, raged on the battlefield while bullets scrape his flesh and hit his vest and he has never ever gotten dizzy. Not even when they pumped him full of morphine after somebody shot him in the ass.

He vaguely knew that his woman would go through some changes but this… this is like Christmas and all his birthdays combined.

He has trouble concentrating on what she's saying because those plump things are right there and his hands are twitching from the urge to paw them. Just admire them all day, perhaps fall asleep on them...

And hell yes he was heavy breathing at the thought and now it's actually happening. She's carrying his child, getting bigger with it every day. The baby must be big and strong, has his genes, it seems! It’s probably a boy. A girl would be much more adorable, though... Either way, König is going to be so proud.

And he's so proud of his wife, too. König gets odd satisfaction when she has trouble rising from the bed or a chair when she's in the late stages of her pregnancy. He's only pleased when she complains about back pains and is starting to get hella grumpy. He admires her for going through all that suffering to give birth to his child. Things are just as they should be! He’s doing his duty on the battlefield while his angel is carrying his child.

He pampers her, of course, for being so good for him. König tries to ensure that his wife has everything she needs and asks about the baby and her health every time he sees her. When she's given birth and is ready for him again, perhaps he will put another one inside her ❤️

[cheeseatlantic]

masterlist

welcome to the atlantic cheese factory! we make all our cheeses in-house and fresh, aged to absolute perfection. here at the atlantic cheese factory we specialize in medium aged cheeses but we can also do mild, sharp or if your up for it, extra sharp! feel free to request a custom cheese, or five.

please note there are no mice allowed!!!

cheese aging chart

mild (silly)

medium (fluff)

sharp (angst)

extra sharp (suggestive/mild spice)

CALL OF DUTY

ghost hc medium

gaz hcs medium

price hcs medium

soap hcs medium

all of these are pretty explanatory

ghost hcs sharp

angsty general!!

reader on period x ghost texts mild

educate him pls

graves hcs medium

general graves hcs

ghost texts medium

bear in the house!

graves texts medium

you guys have a cat, phillip puts a hat on the cat

tf141 hcs mild

also very general

soap drabble sharp

ouu.. after he died angst

graves at home hcs medium

whatever this is

soap hcs 2 medium

general hcs

flirty soap extra sharp

req!

ghost and cat chronicles 1 medium

ghost finds cat?

ghost and cat chronicles 2 medium

johnny and gaz meet cat!

graves thunderstorm comfort (platonic) medium

plantonic only!! reader intended to be a young child

graves drabble sharp

angst, left it half done so you imagine the rest

ghost sh comfort medium-sharp

cw for mentions of sh!

price hcs 2 medium

general!

bookworm reader x tf141 mild-medium

what they would do if they have a little wormy

cod characters as parents medium

personal favourite

animal documentary ghost fluff?? medium

two prairie voles

cod characters as animals mild

pretty self explanatory :)

you and keegan (and kids) at the carnival medium

sniper skills going to good use

gaz comfort medium-sharp

rainy day comfort

snowbound medium

snow day with ghost

sun, sand and shadow(s) medium

beach day with the shadow company!

hold the fort down mild-medium

build a blanket fort with the soapy boy?

a crescent memory medium

i dont even know but i like it, picasso

coffee and comfort medium

konig… 😰

bunny care medium

keegan fluff!!!! this is not mine but rather our favourite cheesy partner >:) cheese to cheese iykyk…

novocaine novocaine (alt) sharp

ghost angst!! pins and needles inspired, (nessa barrett)

slow down 2 3 extra sharp

i actually dont know, smutty so mdni, pls!! xx

cuddly comfort medium

cuddles with graves after a long day!

bunny love 1 2 (incomplete mini series) medium

ghost as a bunny dad!! this was a req. :)

passenger princess extra sharp

motorcycle rider ghostie, need i say more?

spa day medium

spa day with gaz!!

skibidi toilet medium

i didnt have a name for this but grumpy reader x sunshine soap!

love from a distance sharp

little ghost angst

(gala) apple of his eye extra sharp

sugar daddy graves x sugar baby reader

a ghost of your past sharp

more ghost angst. hahaha.

ghost in the sheets extra sharp

escort reader x ghost! smut, so mdni pleaseee

babydoll extra sharp

ghost and reader smut! mdni

captain price smut extra sharp

mdni!

deep devotion extra sharp

skull fucking with ghost, mdni

no where to run extra sharp

car sex with ghost, mdni (and hes dark romance ish!!)

marked for death 1 2 extra sharp

two part, enemies and taken place during the alone mission!!

in the quiet after the storm

bratforce 141

possum activities

the butchers wife

passenger princess

overdrive

soft hands, sharp teeth

stay and study

gone before he could stop it

sick

almost

little conversations

oddities

whiskey, blood and bared teeth

dnr!

red light warning

the way he sees you

party on you

feeding stupid(s)

sanctified

body of christ

covered

thank you for touring the atlantic cheese factory, cheese come again! and watch the trap on your way out. (security reasons)

🪤

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader. part one and part two.

It’s a slight vibration at first. Then a wave, moving you up and down, like you’re a little boat at sea. A roar in your ear, mythical deep monsters reclaiming their lands… and you’re a sailor, fighting for your life…

Jolting a bit, you feel the soft touch of König’s chest hair petting your cheek. Your leg tingles in bitter ache: it’s being crushed by his heavier one. You must have fallen asleep after all, and so has König, who’s boorishly snoring without a care in the world. Huffing, you make to stand up, but his arm around your waist is holding you with static force. You wonder how he can still be so strong in his sleep… but you don’t care. You move his arm away and stand up to go clean yourself.

When you return from the bathroom, still naked, he’s waiting for you with his hands folded in his lap, his lower body covered by the sheet, while his chest glistens a bit in the warm light. Your lip quirks up in amusement at his pose, which only gets straighter when you walk in. But before you let him go, there’s one thing you need some clarifications about.

“About tomorrow. You’re sure it’s a good idea?” You break the silence to argue about work. It’s the least embarrassing topic you know you can talk to him about. And because he’s technically your superior, you feel like you’re evening the field a bit. You’re not comfortable talking him down all the time.

“Hmm,” ponders König, bright eyes never leaving you– so different from his usual twitchy gazes. It’s a bit weird to have a conversation with his face unmasked, but you don’t dislike it. “I have my doubts as well. But there are ways to go around if it goes to shit. You and the others stay next to me.” His tone is even and rational, as his actions tend to be. Then he smiles a bit and taps the (small) space next to him on the bed, as if to say, come lay here with me again.

“We will,” you tell him, and make over to lean towards him. He grabs your elbows very gently, and you lower your head to kiss him on his cheek, the stubble making your lips quirk a bit. You sneak another kiss on the corner of his mouth, before your mouth crawls to his ear. 

“Now go away. I need to sleep comfortably.”

The morning after you’re grumpy only because you’re doing something you wish you weren’t doing. The cold buzzes on your skin, and the chatter coming from the other team is unbearable as you wait on the tarmac for your helo to arrive. You’re arguing with Roze about the construction of a new wing in base– It’s been months and they’ve built one room. One! and Would you rather they worked all day so that you couldn’t have one moment of peace? when you’re interrupted.

“Hey,” you hear a voice. It’s one of the dudes from the other team. You think his name is Vern? Vernon? Vermont? You don’t know and you don’t care. He’s tall (shorter than König) and brunette. Nothing special about him, his face the normal kind of handsome. The American patch flag shines on his arm. If you weren’t used to cataloguing everyone you see around more than once, you probably wouldn’t even recognize him as someone you work in the same facility with.

You look around to see if he’s addressing all of you, or someone else in your team, but his expression is fixated on you. Unnerved and annoyed already, you make a hum of assent to let him know you’re listening to him.

“You guys alright with following our lead then?” He asks smugly, as if you’re talking about dive bars for the night and not potentially deadly missions.

“Sure. We are here, aren’t we?” You try to reply as neutrally as possible, failing. One day is not enough for you to get over it. A month would be still pushing it, seeing how your entire squad’s judgement was ignored and belittled.

“Ouch, kitten. I promise we’re good enough. Stick to my side and it will be fun,” he winks.

A pin could drop right now on the tarmac and it would be heard by everyone. Speechless, you turn your head to glance at Roze. The look you exchange could substitute thousands of words. In the corner of your mind, you acknowledge König and Horangi are there as well, but you can’t really elaborate their reaction, as furious as you are.

You blink and start smiling the coldest smile you own.

“How generous of you, putting us neatly in the enemy sniper’s line of sight. Any other innovative ideas to share with us?”

He laughs, a croaking sound. Well, for being a shithead he’s at least aware of the stupid game he plays.

“Oh, you’re a fiery one,” he chuckles, “I like that…”

His words almost make you gag. Turning away with a visible expression of disgust, you don’t have to dismiss him furthermore because the helo is finally there.

You take a seat right next to König. To entertain yourself (but also, maybe, to find some reassurance) you nudge him with your leg. He barely acknowledges you, to your displeasure. Frowning, you nudge him harder. At last, he turns to you, silent. His eyes look a bit empty.

“You in the zone already?” You search his eyes, but find them dull in all their lovely colour.

“Maybe.” He just says, voice unaffected.

“Maybe…?” You raise an eyebrow. You don’t exactly enjoy the thought of your leader in an armed mission being absent minded. 

Oddly still, König only moves to check your helmet’s resistance, and doesn’t speak to you anymore for the rest of the journey. Is this same man who would literally endure being insulted just to have a chance to exchange words with you?

–

Predictably, Novik isn’t there. What is there, instead, are at least two snipers and other jolly friends looking to kill you. Friends with explosives.

The landscape is so confusing that at some point, you get separated from your squad, no longer seeing König and the others in your view range. You turn instead to see the other operative that bothered you this morning, and recoil at his arm pointing to another exit. Thinking he’s indicating the rest of your squad to you, you rush to the exit, but just narrowly duck enough to dodge the shot coming from outside the window. Peeking, you try to shoot back at your assaulter, but you are unsuccessful. Growing increasingly frustrated, you try to look for another way, perhaps running up the stairs and shooting at them from a higher point– but you don’t have to do anything, because a shot rings from your right and kills the man who was shooting at you. 

Turning your head, you see that König (and him alone) has made his way to you. 

“Are you hit?” He asks, and you shake your head as well as saying no. Then a big hand makes his way to you and grabs you by the shoulder, and you’re ushered out of the building. 

It turns out today’s mission is, well, a failure. None of the objectives were accomplished. You will gloat about it when you’re not covered in dust anymore.

On the helo, you’re busy recollecting the day’s struggles as you clean your face with a wet tissue. You’re glad to see everyone is mostly alright besides the lieutenant of the other squad, who got shot in the arm. He’s alive though. You feel a hand posing itself on your shoulder, but instead of being Roze’s or König’s, it’s someone else’s. 

“You good? I saw you were almost hit,” asks What’s his name, and the only reason you don’t spit in his face is because you’re too physically tired.

“Yeah,” you just say and turn away from him, unwilling to play nice. It’s not like it’s his fault, he didn’t separate you himself. But still. You’re undone. Kaput.  

“I wanted to ask you, do you want to get a drink or two–”

“Listen, man,” you immediately interrupt him, “I just got almost blown up to bits. My last wish on earth right now is to talk about getting a drink with you. Consider this your last chance to back off before I tell you to go fuck yourself.”

The whole plane makes a oooohhh sound which makes you cringe; you hadn’t realized your voice was this loud. What’s his name pales considerably but, all things considered, backs up quickly and with not too much resistance. Maybe he has a chance… to get with someone else and not you. You steal a brief glance at König, your ever loyal subject, but he’s not even looking in your direction. 

Everything goes as usual. You land, you rest a bit, and then it’s time for the hangout with the squad– maybe the best part of this job. Everytime you and the guys finish an assignment, it’s time for some well deserved leisure time. Usually it just means going to the bar, picking someone if one so desires… Well, you don’t have that problem anymore. 

But when you show up to the usual spot, only Roze and Horangi are there.

“Where is König?” You ask Horangi. They’re like, best friends or something, after all. 

“No idea,” is what Horangi tells you, but you feel an undercurrent of something a bit more insidious. A hidden question that sounds suspiciously like what did you do?

You send König a small text, just asking him where he is, but it goes unread. A bit confused, the three of you go for drinks anyway. It’s fun, for sure, but… his presence is missed. Who else is going to assure you and Roze don’t get accosted by anyone you don’t want to just by existing? Who will start debates over the quality of the beers with the barman? Who will get some liquid courage from the alcohol and will chance his luck at putting his hand on your back? Well, someone might, but he won’t be the one you want.

Two days pass. Besides the briefing, which lasted only an hour, you don’t see König at all. Roze tells you she sees flashes of him in the rooms she enters, but that he quickly leaves them after greeting her. Almost as if he doesn’t want her telling you where he is. You’re between assignments, which is what tends to happen when the normal course gets redirected by an obvious fucking red herring. But still… where is he?

Four days pass, and you still haven’t had a conversation with König. Not even about the weather. Horangi must know what is up with him. But when asked, he just shrugs. You no longer feel accusing vibes from him. Maybe König’s had something happen back home, and he can’t get leave so he’s just spending time alone. Maybe he’s working on a personalized new weapon. Maybe… he found someone else and is ghosting you. The last hypothesis is so aggravating you ditch it immediately. You will get to the bottom of this.

You start to stalk him. What? It’s only natural. He’s quite talented himself to avoid you continuously. Is he the only one allowed to have creepy approaches? 

You discard your usual routine to follow him from a distance. He’s not exactly loseable in a crowd, so you just pick a place you know you will see him at– morning call– and track his movements from there. Because you will know he will leave if he has to confront your anger in public, you will have to corner him in a place where there’s only the two of you. And what if you’ve paid some privates to track him as well, who minds? 

Weirdly, you notice, he retires to his room for hours in the afternoon, and doesn’t go to the gym. That is quite odd, because König is very particular about his workout routine, and will internally freak out about not finding his usual machines free for his use. Despite his dorkiness, he is very much respected in this force. If someone takes his spot in his preferred hours, they’re usually new or on a lean.  

This detail is very suspicious, to the point where you investigate yourself. When you walk to the gym it’s already late at night, and you already regret the decision thinking of the morning after. Everything has been put in order, but whoever has been there in the last hour didn’t think of drying their water spills. Casually, near the lat machine…

When you enter the male dressing rooms, you start praying to someone, anyone, that you’re not walking on anyone else but him changing. You wouldn’t know how to explain your presence.

But there he is. Still putting his black compression shirt on, hood already on his head. Alone. He hears your footsteps getting closer now that you’re not concealing them anymore. His bag is on a long bench, his shoes still unchanged. You glare at his wide eyed expression, frown tugging at your lip. He looks delectable.

You walk fast to stand right in front of him, as much in his face as you can be.

“What the hell is going on?” You start, not even pretending to be calm. He looks down, guiltily, but doesn’t answer. You stand in front of him, arms crossed. Still nothing.

“Hmm? Did I do something wrong? Was it about work? I don’t-”

“That one soldier,” he says simply, and your eyebrows scrunch.

“What other soldier?”

“The American one… With the shiny hair.” 

Oh, the waste of air. But what is he even on about…

“You told him the same things you told me… I thought you were on your way to replace me.” He says sadly, and nothing in his tone suggests he doesn’t believe one hundred percent in what he is saying. It’s mindblowing to you that he could read your interactions with V fuckface as anything but unwanted advances and consequential refusal, but it’s not like your thing with him started in a traditional way, either. 

“That’s not even tru- alright,” you start and stop yourself. What König needs isn’t a debate right now: and neither do you, after almost a week of not even getting to talk with him.

“You two couldn’t be further away from each other,” you sigh. “König, you are the exception. I don’t actually like all men I insult. He wouldn’t be good for cleaning your shoes.” Unaware, you don’t realize you’ve said it until you make eye contact with König again and his gaze is suspiciously wet.

“You… you…”

“Oh, come off it,” you scorn, more embarrassed than you’d like. “Don’t cry now. I have to remind you who you belong to, since you seem to have forgotten.” You glare at him, grabbing him from his waist. He follows your lead as you bring him to the bench. Briefly, you cringe at doing this here of all places, but a quick intervention is needed.

“You think I would just go with anyone?” You ask him, as you sink to your knees in front of him. His left leg bounces nervously in quick succession.

“No! I never said that!” He stutters when you gently force his legs to open so you can settle in the middle of them.

“And what if I do, huh? You have a problem with women sleeping with who they want?” His pupils look huge from the ground. And also very panicked. His breath comes in big gulps. Speaking of huge things…

“I’m just messing with you, big boy. And by the way, don’t think I’m blind,” you laugh bitterly, “I see that one secretary that always hangs around you. She wants you bad,” you snarl, unbuckling his belt. He shivers, the cut of his abs exposed to the gym air riddled with goosebumps. His bulge looks appetizing to say the least. You hadn’t really metabolized the irritation you felt at seeing that woman flirt with König before. Out of nothing, you’d thought Ugh! Who would try to get with him of all people?

How the turntables…

“But she doesn’t quite get you, does she.” You spread your hands open on his upper thighs, thumbs brushing the slightest against his crotch.

“No… she’s nice, but…”

“But you don’t want nice. Very obvious to me,” you gloat, as if you didn’t discover this side of König yourself like a month ago. To be fair, it’s not exactly a given that he’d be a submissive, especially due to his job. Lucky you!

“Choose something weird to say if you want to stop.”

“Huh?”

You roll your eyes.

“Choose a safeword, you dummy. So if you don’t like what I’m doing to you I will stop.”

“Ehm,” he looks up a bit, “cornflake.”

You stifle a laugh, but sober up real quick. What is wrong with you? It’s not even funny!

You must have missed him an awful lot.

“Alright. Say cornflake if you need,” you tell him, and finally, finally, take his dick out of his boxers. It’s a bit scary from this limited distance, but you like its shape. He’s long with a nice girth about it, and veins that bulge noticeably. You spit on the palm of your hand to start stroking it.

Immediately, König jumps. You wish you could see his whole face, but having sex with him being masked still has its appeal. That’s how you found yourself originally attracted to him, after all.

Rubbing him up and down, you keep your touch light for now, only squeezing the lightest amount. The pad of your thumb comes to brush his slit, and he moans quite loudly. You immediately take your hand to the base of his cock and squeeze.

“Are you crazy? We are in public, you freak! Contain yourself.” You order him.

You don’t really give a shit. It’s three am. Whoever shows up is probably trying to have sex too.

“Y-Yes.” His feet move, a seismic wave; it’s never been more evident he could buck you off him any moment, any time. Would he, though?

“Good. I didn’t like you avoiding me… Felt like you were disobeying me,” you tell him, leaning your cheek against his thigh as you play around. 

“And you saved me again back then! I wanted to reward you…” You make big eyes at him, and he sighs a long suffering exhale of air, like he too wanted to be rewarded for that. For feeling sorry, you start to lick him, small ones at first, tasting the territory. Finding his restraint impressive– not a peep was heard–  you take the whole head in your mouth. The good streak is interrupted by König whimpering your name. Releasing him with a pop, you pout at him from under. Meanly, you pinch his balls, which has him jumping again but surprisingly not making a sound. Satisfied, you take him into your mouth again, this time starting a real pace, your cheeks hollowed. In the corner of your eye, you can see his left hand leaving his side. Intrigued to see what he will do, you don’t tell him off immediately. To your joy, he doesn’t press you to deepthroat him any more than you’re doing right now, but instead chooses to pet your hair.

That’s so sweet, you could almost cry.

“You’re so nice, König… why would you deprive yourself of this?” You tut, stroking his cock, and you feel his fingers in your hair clamp a bit. He looks at you a bit coyly, maybe unsure whether he can speak or not.

“You won’t do that to me again, will you?” You ask, your hand now running up and down his dick in a frantic way.

“N-No! I won’t!” König cries out, pleading expression visible from the holes in his mask, and you smile in satisfaction. He’s getting there.

“Good,” you just say, and open your mouth again to finish him off. You can feel him twitch inside your mouth before he tugs at your hair a bit to warn you. But you just take him deeper– it’s a struggle, but you manage to somehow not make too much of a mess. And he’s courteous enough not to push too much of himself against you as he cums.

You come up for hair, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your finger. König is panting, his chest moving up and down and his head hanging low. Without thinking, you raise yourself up a bit and move König’s hood to kiss him. He makes a surprised sound, maybe at tasting himself on your lips, but then eases into it. Melts like fresh snow.

“Do you want me to-” he starts when you break the kiss, still breathing heavily, but you shake your head. This was the most thoughtful head you’ve ever given in your life, and you want to sit with it for a bit. You get up, patting his thigh, and make for the tissue dispenser.

“Sorry for ambushing you.” You tell him simply as you clean off what you didn’t get in your mouth. He just stares at you. Put in the spot, you shuffle a bit on your feet before sitting next to him on the bench. Your arms brush. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just felt–” he interrupts himself, then reassures himself and begins again, “Like I was useless. I thought maybe I could try to talk to you again when I was fitter. Or something.” He scratches his head from over the hood. You could laugh at the idea that König of all people isn’t fit enough, but that’s not how insecurities work. So, for both his and your sake, you will be honest and communicative. 

“Don’t run away from me. When you have a problem with me, you tell me, okay? Like I did to you that time.”

“Yes. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. You take his face into both of your hands and cradle it softly. You giggle at the impression of his traits behind the cotton mask. Those faded tear stains on it… you could have made fun of them before, but now they make you more sad than anything. The gentle giant, always abandoned and mistreated, scary enough to terrorize many, but secretly weeping on his own… you would keep him by your side now. You release his face.

“If you want, we could be exclusive. Would you like that?” You ask him, pointedly looking at the ground and not him.

“Like… we’d be together? Romantically?”

That’s not what being exclusive exclusively means, but… whatever.

“Sure. I don’t know how KorTac takes these things though, so let’s not be too explicit with it- ough!” The wind is knocked out of your lungs as König gets you in an embrace so tight, it’s a wonder you’re even breathing at all. You’ve been shifted on his lap, and your face is covered by his green mask, and he smells like cleanliness but also like him.

“Yes. I want that.” He only says, his hand massaging your arm, his forehead on yours.

“Cool.” You mutter, a bit embarrassed by his earnest stare. You don’t even have a blanket to hide in.

“Very cool…” He says, and the sappiness covers you from head to toes.

—

Later, in his room, you speak your mind.

“Secondly, König, now that we are chill, I literally told him to go fuck himself. I never told you that, have I?” You lean on your side on the (still too small) bed as you regard him, now relaxed.

“You have implied it,” he simply says, not sounding particularly sad about it as he repeatedly brushes his fingers on his chest.

“That was your own insecurity speaking,” you wiggle your finger in his eyes. “I had something I coined as “stupidness aggression” towards you. It’s been resolved though. Now it’s only cuteness aggression,” you finish, pinching his cheek between your index and your thumb. He lets out a cute ouch with the biggest smile on his face.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster!König x Fox!Reader who likes to playfully flirt with him, but runs away when things get too serious. Reader’s just bored and her favorite form of entertainment is getting the grumpy colonel to blush.

You're a honeypot, a flirt, tease. Your job is to jump on some dumb monster hybrids and seduce them. Hands-on, their necks, looking up to the traitors of the nation. Konig isn't a traitor, but you still flirt with him. He deserves to have someone who will tease him for being alive, you think. Deserves someone to give him the knowledge that even the colonel isn't immune to being a blushing mess under his hood. Your hands dance on his chest, your neatly trimmed but still sharp little claws digging into the tense muscles. You tilt your head to the side and ask if the colonel needs a massage - he looks so tense, so nervous all of the time. Never looks you in the eyes, makes the girl in you go a bit self-conscious. You have a few spare minutes, and so you drag your fluffy tail across his thigh, "accidentally" touching his groin. He flinches, the tent in his pants becoming more and more obvious - you smile, getting even closer to him. Konig is close to his rut, mating season for eldritch hybrids getting closer and closer - you know you're playing with fire, but the base was outright boring lately, and you needed someone to play with.

You just didn't know he'd be tired of your games so quickly. Mushing your tail in his hands, getting a yelp out of you - you whimper, trying to wiggle your ass out of his grasp, but he is too firm. Presses his hands all over you and forces you to take him in, take him fully. Doesn't even bother with taking his cock out, fucking you with his slick, coated in some dripping goo, tentacles. The worst thing about monsters like him - he can get horny in an instant, forcing you to take his cock like a good little fox and stop teasing your dear colonel. You can huff and yelp for others to come and get you, but the base was tired of your antics.