#konig mw3
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amaranthinespirit · 11 months ago
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size difference with könig and virgin!reader
he knew it was going to hurt; any man the size of him would reflect that under his belt. any woman, no matter the body count, would be in for it during a night with a brute like him.
but when you came along, doe-eyed and so much smaller than him, something stirred on the bottom of his abdomen. behind the zipper of his jeans, his cock chubbed up at first glance.
he was already huge enough to see the outline of his bulge through his jeans, or whatever cargos, he wore, but his growing erection made it that much more obvious.
he had never been one to notice before, but with you, he couldn't help it. the way he dwarfed you as you stood by his side, your (much) smaller hand completely engulfed by his giant one.
despite the size difference, he was gentle—as gentle as he could be. a brute as big as him with a tiny doll like you—like porcelain, you were going to break. and he was going to be the one to break you.
he ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip collecting your slick along his cock. a whimper, or mewl, escaping your throat whenever he grazes your clit. his breathing is heavy, muttered curses and phrases in german under his breath.
"so eine hübsche muschi, nur für mich..." his voice is hushed and low, as if he's talking to himself about how heavenly your puffy lips are against his girthy cock.
he keeps a large hand around the base of his girthy dick, the other planted on the bed, just above your hip as he steadies himself. the bed is dipping heavily with the focused weight.
he finds himself growing impossibly harder at the sounds of your strained squeaks, watching the sweat bead down the side of your face before his eyes find where his cock lays heavy against your sopping cunt.
your thighs slick with arousal and previous climaxes as he had worked you open on his tongue and fingers, his skin glistening under the light. your juices painted his chin, his fingers pruned from being buried deep in your sensitive pussy, desperately swallowed by your spongy walls.
he hummed lowly, almost a groan as his hand around his girthy base slapped his cock against your slick labia, the head of his cock beating against your swollen, hypersensitive clit he'd been toying with all night.
"diese muschi gehört mir, nicht wahr? hmm...?" you knew not what he said, but his tone was smug, cocky as he gave your cunt a few more slaps with his dick, humping his length between your folds.
you were squirming under him, not even fucked by his huge cock yet, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation, teetering along the lines of being too much. but it was just right.
his hand propped on the bed found your waist, stilling you as his hips halted, dragging his tip down your pussy to your leaking slit. evidence of previous orgasms spilled from your hole, "shhh, sei still, mein schatz..." he cooed, a callouses thumb tracing along the soft, supple skin of your waist before digging his fingers into your flesh.
he needed self control as he lined his cock with your hole, teasing along the folds before beginning to split you in half. whimpers falling from your lips at the mere task of just fitting the tip past your entrance.
he groaned loudly at the way your pussy welcomed him, swallowing his bulbous head with a squelch and a tight pulse as he stretched you open. the previous rounds of his finger and tongue doing nothing to aid the sheer stretch of your cunt around his dick.
it hurt like hell as he inched his cock deeper, reveling in the way your face contorted, strangled cries leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes. your face flushing pink as salty trails glistened down your heated cheeks.
it was like you were practically impaling yourself on his thick, meaty cock. your body being split down the middle to accommodate for such space he took up in your cunt, your spongy walls clamping tightly around his dick.
"Scheiße, schatz...du bist so eng..." he cursed, his hand around his girth retracting to his hip.
he watched as his cock sunk deeper past your puffy lips, the way your pussy swallowed him with a sickening, lewd squelch that made his eyes flutter shut. his hips bucked, followed by curses as he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips. speeding up to a comfortable pace.
the skin of your backside quickly flushed red as his pace became more and more relentless—he had told you before he wasn't good with virgins. you assured him you could handle it, and he promised he would try to be gentle. key word, try.
well, he had tried, and failed as his hips desperately rut into your heavenly, slick pussy with lewd sounds of your skin coming together rapidly. his full, heavy balls slapping against your backside with each time his hips pounded into your cunt.
he was a lost cause, muttering incoherent phrases of half-german, half-english. most of what you could pick out was praises to your pussy, how you were made to fit his cock in your tight hole—though you were too cock-drunk, babbling nonsense into moans under him to hear a word he said.
"verdammt, deine muschi ist der himmel, kleines mäuschen..." he praised in a coo, his body now leaning to cover yours, his heavy weight pressing your back further into the mattress, "so verdammt eng und nass..."
his hand on your waist slid down to your stomach, he swore he could feel the skin warp under his calloused prints as his bulbous tip slammed your cervix.
when his eyes finally left where your two body conjoined, up to your pretty face where tears streamed down your cheeks, disheveled hair splayed across the pillow behind your head and matted to your forehead. his eyes fluttered shut as his dick twitched and throbbed against your spongy walls.
your pained cries turned to whimpers and hiccuped moans, hands clawing at his back to pull him impossibly closer in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper.
it wasn't long until you felt another warmth building in your lower abdomen, familiar in feel to the previous, but so much more hammering as it built, and built, and built.
könig could feel how you sunk your nails into his back, as if you feared he would deny you the ecstasy of release. he felt the way your cunt clamped around him, pulsing in sync with your heartbeat—his too.
his hips faltered—he had never finished this quick, but then again, your pussy was like a fucking drug, and he was an addict.
"das ist es...that's it, mauschen..." he whispered breatlhessly into your ear, his heavy, warm breath against your skin as he waited for your release to boil over with his.
he moaned loudly against your sweat, sticky skin, uttering more praises under his breath as he felt his cock twitch. he watched the way your jaw went slack, how your body shuddered under him before going limp, boneless under his weight.
a shuddered breath slipped past his lips as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls a creamy, thick white as he filled you. his eyes fell back to your pussy, watching as he's milked dry of every last bit of his pearly, white cum.
he rubbed a rough thumb over your clit, watching you flinch and squirm from the sensitivity as he kept an eye on how his gooey release oozed from your hole, despite the fact his cock was still plugged inside of you.
he hummed lowly in appreciation as he took two fingers to spread the thick substance to coat your folds.
fuck, maus, you were ruined for anyone else now, guess you're stuck with him.
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konigsblog · 11 months ago
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Loser!König who secretly records during sex. (🌽 link)
TW/CW: NON-CONSENSUAL RECORDING, PERV!KÖNIG.
Can you really blame him at the end of the day? The poor, neglected antisocial bastard can barely help himself from whipping out his phone sneakily during sex, his thumb hovering over the record button to catch a brief moment of your tight rear bouncing back against his sturdy, broad hips. He's practically frozen, too stunned and aroused to move as his voice trembles and wavers, thanking you for your generosity and kind, sweet offer over and over until he's mumbling and babbling and drooling all over himself through ecstasy.
He overthinks every decision he makes, anxious that it'll become obvious that he's inexperienced — although, it wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. When he places his giant hand against your supple rear, he struggles to catch his breath at the thought of upsetting you rushes through his perverted mind. His dull and clipped fingernails digging into the flesh and plush on your ass. “Oh Gott— Keep moving– bitte!” König's words are muffled and jumbled as he switches between German and English, an incoherent and murmured string of curse words slipping from his soft lips at the sickening thoughts rotting his mind away.
He keeps these videos for himself, becoming overly paranoid and stressed about you catching him in the debauched and sexual act. He's too worked up and exhausted one late night in his apartment that he doesn't think twice before relieving himself with his favourite personal video. The thought of being caught red-handed had slipped his mind, and before König could shut down his laptop and apologise profusely for being an animalistic and depraved loser, you'd caught him, looming over his shoulder, your eyes glued to the graphic video playing on his computer. He didn't notice your lingering presence over his shoulder, too distracted by the pleased noises coming from his computer, determined to reach his orgasm. König was too busy lazily jerking himself off to think properly, ‘til he felt your hand replace his.
—Out of pity, of course. Clearly König yearns for your touch, right? Let's help him out, yeah? Give him something to remember.
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uhohdad · 1 year ago
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(18+) WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES
˚☽˚.⋆ Loser!König x Reader - Sharing a bed ˚☾˚.⋆
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loser!könig purposely booked a room with only one bed, but he’ll spin a story about how the hotel messed up, even going so far as to feign frustration and air threats of complaint until you soothe him. Don’t worry, not that big of a deal, we’ll just share a bed. It’ll be fun, a sleepover.
loser!könig can’t stop staring at you as you both unwind in your hotel room, lying on your front and half-heartedly watching a cooking show, the white noise of the air-conditioner roaring in the background. Your teasing legs are bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, swaying absentmindedly in the air. He’s drooling over your ass, practically hanging out of your thin lounge shorts.
loser!könig can hardly contain his excitement when you both finally retire for the night, crawling under the comforters. He’s annoyed you spend so much time playing with your phone before bed, because he’s just itching to have you asleep and all to himself.
loser!könig forces himself to wait until you’re in a deep sleep, a slight snore and the occasional twitch of a dream. He’ll gently peel back the brilliant white covers, his cock already straining against his sweatpants in pure excitement. His eyes devour every new inch of skin revealed to him, lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, braless in a loose tank top. He can see your nipples through the thin fabric, it’s not hard for him to imagine what your breasts look like underneath.
loser!könig bites his lip as he pinches the front of your tank top, carefully bunching it up to expose your torso. He freezes when you shiver, one of your arms moving to rest over your stomach, starting up again when you still.
loser!könig’s aching cock is leaking at the sight of your soft, perfect breasts on display for him, the cool air bringing your nipples to attention. He has to stifle both a whine and his urge to touch you, palming the front of his pants for relief and not so much as blinking while he ravages you with hungry eyes.
loser!könig can’t restrain himself, freeing himself from his sweatpants and pumping his cock to the sight of your tits, a show that’s just for him. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip hard enough he nearly draws blood, holding back his grunts and moans with a strain.
loser!könig lasts less than a minute, forcing his choked moans to leave him as only breath. Every muscle is tight and tensed as he splatters your chest with his finish, working out every last drop, trembling and heaving overtop of you.
loser!könig snaps a picture of your cum-soaked tits before he carefully pulls your shirt flush to the arm slung over your waist, tucking you under the comforter once again.
loser!könig gets no sleep that night, staring mesmerized at the photo of his finish claiming ownership of your chest until morning.
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˚☽˚.⋆ loser!könig ˚☾˚.⋆
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konigsfavgirl · 5 months ago
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꒰ Adorable König Habits & Routines Outside the Military — as promised my pookies :3 ꒱
Early Bird Energy: König wakes up ridiculously early, even on days off. He tries to stay quiet, but he still ends up making tea, pacing the apartment, or doing light stretches—his huge frame moving around while you’re still dead asleep.
Overgrown Houseplant Dad: He has a weirdly soft spot for houseplants. He waters them with too much care, occasionally talks to them “You’re growing well, ja? Keep it up.” and panics if a leaf turns yellow.
Notebook Hoarder: He owns way too many notebooks, some filled with tactical notes, some with random doodles, and some… just empty because he likes having them. Don't let me mention the silly patterns for notebooks he owns.
Clumsy Giant Moments: For someone so skilled in the field, König is shockingly clumsy at home. He constantly bumps into doorframes, accidentally knocks things over with his elbows, and hits his head on hanging lights. Later he tries to explain why your favorite decoration is fixed with glue magically.
Candle Enthusiast: He secretly loves scented candles. If you ever mention liking a particular scent, you will find a new candle of that scent appearing in the apartment. He would insist lighting one if you two are having a movie night — it spikes up the atmosphere
Protective Blanket Tucking: If you fall asleep on the couch, König has to tuck you in properly. He carefully drapes a blanket over you, making sure you're warm. If you shift even slightly, he freezes, afraid he woke you.
Big Spoon 90% of the Time: Even if you start off cuddling face-to-face, König will unconsciously pull you against his chest in his sleep, wrapping himself around you like a human weighted blanket. Gentle
Alarm Clock (For You, Not Him): Since you’re not a morning person, he wakes you up in the softest ways possible — rubbing your back, whispering to you, or placing little kisses on your forehead until you stir.
Absolutely Awkward with PDA: König wants to be affectionate in public, but he’s so tall and intimidating that he overthinks it. He’ll lightly brush his fingers against yours instead of holding your hand—unless you grab his first. Then he melts.
Buys You Snacks Without Asking: If he notices you like a certain snack, you’ll always find it in the kitchen. He never asks, he just stocks up on it like some silent provider instinct kicks in.
Waits for You to Get Home Like a Loyal Dog: If you come home late, König is either waiting by the door or lying on the couch, pretending he wasn’t waiting for you. Expect the long cuddling session if you were away for too long.
Secretly Loves When You Play With His Hair: If you ever tug on his hood and ruffle his hair, he groans dramatically, but he never stops you. If you start braiding it? He’s suffering but lets you do it anyway.
Terrible at Saying No to You: You want to steal his hoodie? Done. You want him to cook something random at midnight? Fine. If you give him the right look, he just sighs and does whatever you ask.
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serialkilluh-1996 · 2 months ago
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eccentricallygothic · 1 year ago
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Soft!Dark manipulative König with a breeding kink but you don't really like the idea much because you're barely in your 20's and it's not your fault he's nearly 40 hence at that age where he wants his brats running around the house…? 
“Ugh” you roll your eyes at yet another huge family tiktoker's video about how they prepare dinner for their family of 10. “Why the fuck would you–” you stop yourself when one of his dark eyebrows quirk up just a little at your choice of words. He doesn't appreciate potty mouths. “What kind of a person has a family of 10?!”
You suppress your whimper when he snorts before moving towards you in a snake-like manner. But you refuse to look up from your phone because the two of you have been over this a couple million times already. “Why, a person like us, baby” you keep your eyes trained on the phone stubbornly, swiping away at the videos extra rough out of annoyance. He buries his face in the crook of your neck to get a better reaction out of you, the tip of his nose grazing against your sensitive veins. “Because you will have one of at least 12,” his lips move against your tender skin, causing for goosebumps to form almost instantly, “we talked about it, remember?” 
No, you don't remember. 
The only thing you recall is a fight. 
A big, ugly, and loud fight.
That had led to him pinning you down against the mattress to ‘calm you down’ because ‘you weren't being yourself’ and he only ‘wanted what was best for you’ so he had fucked you dumb to ‘bring you back to him’. 
You never really have a choice with König. 
For at the end of every day, he gets– nay, takes what he wants. 
Always.
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fruitmilkshake · 8 months ago
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Credits to @bingiz22
..... Now i can die happily
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konigslittleliebling · 11 months ago
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König x American reader who’s not in the military (I could never be, people keep posting about how they wanna see Tom boy reader and strong reader BUT THAT ALL I EVER SEE) she’s very weak and girly and favorite color is pink and she has a tiny Chihuahua mix with wiener dog with underbite
pretty please I saw your post about filling you inbox and I’ve never had anyone reply to my ask so hopefully you’ll be the first 💕💕💕
are all these flavours of oreo really necessary? he wondered, squinting at the sheer volume of endless options. they seemed to have all of them except the one he wanted. the original.
“strawberry cheesecake filling? nein.” he huffed, rummaging through the shelf. “snickerdoodle?” he paused. what the fuck is that? sounds like a breed of dog his inner monologue remarked. “. . .nein.” then he spotted some packaging with a picture of white vanilla-y looking filling. promising. “coconut?” he hesitated. how similar in taste are vanilla and coconut? he sniffed the packet.
“hi.”
könig jumped at the meek interruption, smacking his head off the shelving. it would’ve hurt if not for his helmet. he turned, faced with nothing when looking into the abyss of his own line of sight.
“uh. . . hellooo?”
he lowered his eyes then, pupils flitting to you — a woman of average height which still stooped just shy of a meter below his towering frame. you held a small dog in your arms, a pink leather leash dangling from its collar to twist around your wrist. its tail wagged, head tilting as a sickly adorable pair of buggy eyes bulged up at him.
“hello.” könig greeted, stumped and awkward. you were dressed in a knee-length dress, florally designed and held up by spaghetti straps. your heels matched its colour, bows on top of them as well as in your hair.
“you are very pink.” he told you, motioning with a large finger at your attire. you flashed him a comical look, figured he was a little slow. “uh-huh. you’re not from ‘round here.” you realised, noting his thick accent. he shook his head ‘no’, noting the smoothness of yours. “not much of a talker?” you rhetorically asked him. he said nothing.
“gonna get those or not?” you jutted your chin toward the pack of cookies in his gloved hand. he glanced at them. “what do they taste like?” you arched a brow, but humoured him. “coconut probably.” you had a soft spot for the deployed personnel who often passed through town. and they always had the same lost look of awe akin to regular tourists when shopping in the local stores.
“mind passing me those?” you pointed to the raspberry strudel flavoured pack on the top shelf. you could’ve reached them if you’d stretched. he grunted, his hooded mask shifting when he grimaced at your pick. “don’t approve?” you smirked, sultry. his eyes were drawn to the tacky pink that coated your glossy lips. he cleared his throat. “i just want the normal ones.”
you nodded, dragging your gaze up the bulk of his imposing body. “nice gear.” you complimented, reaching blindly for a packet of original oreos and placing them in his palm with one manicured hand. he stared at them, before looking up to ask your name. he hadn’t heard the clicking of your heels when you’d turned to walk away, only lifting his head in time to watch the tail end of your ribbons and frills disappear around the aisle’s corner, followed by a light and bubbly giggle.
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serialkilluh1996 · 8 months ago
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☏ ring…ring… thoughts on König and late night snacking? 👀💜
OMG YESSSSSS
König is a top tier night snacker. Like, on a professional level. First of all, this is a beg fella. You don't have an itty bitty diet with a body like that. He'll act modestly about it in public cause he just doesn't like people much, so he'll shy away from showing his characteristics to avoid being perceived by general society (aka his fucking closest friends), But TRUST this man loves to eat.
You'll notice he's more of a drinker during the day. Electrolyte water, smoothies, even scotch or whisky to fit this facade of the burly macho man that everyone thinks he is, but at night, my man is a MENACE.
Two in the morning, and König's up fixing bowls of cereal back to back with no concern whatsoever for his inevitable stomach aches. He'll be scoffing down creampies like a child who finally moved out of their parents' house, free of basic dietary rules such as "dessert after dinner" and "breakfast food in the morning."
Does it fuck with his health? Maybe. Does he do his best to reverse his actions during the day? Absolutely! But with a metabolism like his, how can he help himself? Not to mention his adoration for homemade food. Sure, König will settle for some simple cheap store bought treats, but there's a certain flavor in something made right at the house. Love. And he loves cooking. Don't be shocked when he's throwing down in his apron at 11pm at night, making whole ass steaks for himself.
He's got a system for it too. If the foods cooking, he needs something to eat while he cooks, so he'll cook something else that takes less time to make. And while THAT cooks, he's popping grapes and strawberries in his mouth by the second. This habit of his makes him more efficient during the day, as König doesn't stop to eat breakfast in the morning. He's already stuffed like a pig from the night before.
And he typically has leftovers, via his habit to overestimate how much he'll actually eat of what he cooks, so he can always bring a little snack with him if necessary. That's if he's not running completely on his day drinks.
P.s I'm totally not projecting some of my habits onto him.
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amaranthinespirit · 3 months ago
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Hi u hope it's not too weird but I love your writing and I wanted to ask if you'd be down to write könig who got a but chubby under the readers cooking?
könig getting softer after retirement
he's been retired for a few months now, taking the time to laze around the house and spend more time with his pretty missus, except he's noticed one thing.
back when he was in the military, he was fit, in shape with sharp muscles and defined abs that you loved to run your tongue down. he had worked hard for years, reflected greatly in his physique, with beefy arms, brute chest and thick thighs. his skin also littered with scars that you kissed every night.
now he was home with you. after years of deployments, he decided he wanted to settle back with you for the rest of his life. he had gotten lazy after retirement, spending more days on the couch watching a telegram program with you on his arm, or fucking you stupid on every surface of the house—the only real exercise he's gotten in months. while he is a man of discipline and routine, he just wants to make up for the lost time he spent away from you.
so his physique might've slipped away from him, but you can't blame him! he has a cute wife that spends countless time in the kitchen—definitely not due to the fact he's got you bent over the countertop. your food is heavenly, and it doesn't help the man eats enough for an entire army. sometimes you'd excuse yourself from the table, pushing the plate in his direction with the excuse, "i'm full," but once he found out you were lying about that, he made you cum more than you could count on both hands.
but if only all the fucking could help with the weight he's gained.
he's gotten softer.
his abs now have a smooth layer of fat over them, the skin stretched with marks, and you can see his soft gut through his mouth-wateringly tight shirts.
His thick arms only got beefier, a thing you loved because you could now sink your teeth into the plushy flesh—he doesn't know why you like it, he just goes along with it because it makes you happy.
and his thighs. his. thighs. they got impossibly bigger, you could mistake them for tree trunks, decorated with more stretch marks that you adored and kissed every time you got on your knees for him.
he sees how much you like his softer figure, muscles still strong under the extra layers of fat, and it's definitely not like his staminas been affected in anyway.
so he'll continue devouring your food like his stomach is a bottomless pit, and make sure his wife is stuffed full too—in more ways than one. he'll rub a large, calloused hand over your food baby. his grin devilous as he coos.
"now how about I put a real baby in there, hm?"
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raynedr0p · 1 year ago
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His little scientist
Eldritch!konig
Main master list <—> COD master list
Eldritch!Konig x Scientist!Reader
I could not stop thinking about eldritch!Konig and scientist!Reader. The way könig loves his little scientist, and only cares about her but she doesn’t realize and is being sweet because that’s her personality and just wants to do her job😩
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She was his little scientist. She made every thing better for him.  he refused ti talk to any other scientist but her So you wouldn’t believe how fast his day went from gloomy to happy when he saw her and he ran to the bars.
“Y/N!” He said standing at the bars looking at her konigs tentacles reaching out to touch her hand. She brings her hand closer so he could touch it “hello könig, I heard about your little melt down yesterday” she says giving a sympathetic smile.
Konig look down at the ground “they said you weren’t here and I freaked out because that’s the day I get to see you” könig said. Y/N smiles at him making him feel less uncomfortable talking about it.
Y/N and könig talk for a few hours. Y/N asks questions trying to find out not just more about him but his species. Konig explained how eldritch beings reproduce. He went on about finding the perfect vessel to incubate the egg until it’s laid, and then taken care of by the male.
Y/N was pleased with her full page of notes “thank you so much for your time könig, you gave me a lot of new information.” König gave her a sweet smile she couldn’t see due to the mask.
Y/N walks out of the room and könig goes back to the pool in his custom cell to fit his needs as much as possible. He submerged his body under the water. Only if Y/N knew he’s intentions, and what he would do if he could get a hold of her.
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konigsfavgirl · 5 months ago
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꒰ guess who decided to post again after an eternity? im so sorry yall im locking in from now on ꒱
König is that type to: Pull you behind him protectively if someone even slightly looks at you the wrong way
König is that type to: Accidentally lift you off the ground when he hugs you because he forgets how strong he is
König is that type to: Wear his hood even at home because it makes him feel comfortable and safe, sometimes even forgetting he has it on
König is that type to: Struggle to sit comfortably in small chairs, his knees always too high, it ends up looking like he is sitting on a kids chair
König is that type to: Act all tough in public, but when he is alone with you he acts like a lovesick puppy
König is that type to: Genuinely enjoy grocery shopping, but always buy too much and struggles where to put all of those stuff he bought
König is that type to: Let you do whatever you want to him ꒰style his hair, steal his hoodies, poke his cheeks ꒱ he’ll just sigh and let it happen.
König is that type to: Try to “share” the blanket with you, but somehow always ends up with 90% of it ꒰ he claims that he should be your blanket ꒱
König is that type to: Get super focused when cooking, measuring everything perfectly, like it’s a military mission.
König is that type to: Cover his face with his hands when flustered, like a giant embarrassed mess.
König is that type to: Say “Scheiße” under his breath when he drops something, then crouch down dramatically like it’s the end of the world.
König is that type to: Fidget with the hem of his mask when nervous or deep in thought.
König is that type to: Struggle to text with his massive fingers, constantly making typos usually not even noticing them
König is that type to: Sleep in the weirdest, most chaotic positions, dragging you with him as he cages you with his arms and legs like a koala
König is that type to: Whisper “Entschuldigung” (excuse me) to objects when he bumps into them
König is that type to: Duck under doorways instinctively, even if they’re tall enough for him ꒰ he good trauma yall ꒱
König is that type to: Panic if you cry, immediately pulling you into his arms and mumbling in German because he doesn’t know what else to do.
König is that type to: Look terrifying when staring, but he was just dozing out thinking about what to eat for dinner
König is that type to: Genuinely believe you are the best thing in his life, even if he’s too awkward to say it all the time.
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ryuzakemo128 · 11 months ago
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Headcanons of Colonel König dating a female Italian Olympic Gymnast and Fencer reader would be like
Pairing: Konig x female Italian Olympic Gymnast and Fencer turned operative
Content Warning: Implication of smut, mention of injuries needing physical therapy.
Masterlist
Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics
Note: Descriptors used: Nationality, height and implication you that you have dimples.
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(One) König meets you during a mission in Rome. You were exercising in the gym to maintain a physique that was always ready for combat.
Your Hip and ankle mobility drills included: Cossack squats with knee drops, deep squat with calf raises, narrow squat pistol to Cossack slide, ankle circles, Shrimps curtsy lunge, Quadruped hip drops, side lunge to curtsy lunge, and plyometric box jumps. You had been pushing your body to the limit, focusing on the task at hand, oblivious to the outside world.
Your other drills were: Sledge pulls, bear crawls, farmer's walk, HIIT training, body weight strength training, Push Press or Strict Press, and you had just finished a set of 100 pushups when you felt the presence of someone watching. You wiped the sweat from your brow and turned around to find Colonel König, impressed by your dedication. He had a stern look on his face, but his eyes held a hint of curiosity.
Sometimes you deadlifted and calisthenics, sometimes you sparred with the gym's punching bag until your knuckles were bruised and your breathing ragged.
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(Two) König likes the height difference between the two of you. You're not exactly petite, standing at 5'11, but his towering 6'10 frame made you feel delicate in a way that was surprisingly comforting. His physique was imposing, a testament to the years of rigorous military training, yet there was a softness in his gaze that made you feel seen beyond the sweat and the grime of the gym.
A past incident left you injured, which sent König into a right frenzy at the time. You were in Milan when it happened. He was in Austria. Thousands of miles away from you. It was supposed to be a simple, routine mission, one that quickly went sour before you could scream the word 'extraction'. The intel was bad, shoddy at best, the enemy had anticipated your move, and suddenly you were caught in a crossfire, a bullet grazed your side and your left leg took the brunt of an explosion. The pain was sharp, the world spinning around you, and all you could think of was how you'd never get to see the Eiffel Tower again.
When you said, "Why do I have to get injured man. I was looking forward to seeing the Eiffel Tower. Chi vive sperando -- muore cantando. He who lives with hope dies singing. Thought you might need to hear that. My mother wouldn't stop bugging me until I did."
König's stern expression softened into a smile, a rare sight that seemed to warm the very air around you. He leaned in closer, his deep voice rumbling as he said, "And here I was, worried you'd forget your Italian after all that time in the field."
"I use it as much as I can." You remarked with a wide grin. "Ti sei fatta male cadendo dal Paradiso?" Meaning, Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
König's eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I'm not an angel, bella," he said, his Italian a gruff contrast to the melodic rhythm of your words. "But I've had my share of bruises from the fall."
"Angel's are the lord's soliders, Konig. They are strong as well as beautiful. You are an angel of the lord to me." You said with a wink at him. "Angels aren't delicate. My mother believes they are the fiercest of creatures."
Konig chuckled, a sound that was surprisingly gentle for someone so intimidating. "Your mother is a wise woman," he said, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer than necessary.
"So, there, you are an angel, rough edges not withstanding. I must say, you are MY angel, though. I still don't have any intention of sharing you, by the way." You smirked, looking him up and down subtly liking what you saw.
Colonel König's cheeks flushed slightly, a rare occurrence, but one that you had learned to recognise. "I'm not here to be your knight in shining armour, you know," he said gruffly, trying to maintain his usual composure.
"I don't want that, though. I never asked you to be." you said, your face now inches from his. As you leaned over your bed to get closer to him without hurting yourself more. "I want something a little more…intimate than that. And I want that over and over again."
König's throat bobbed, and he took a step back, trying to regain his composure. "Now isn't the time for this," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your bruised and bandaged form.
“I’m asking you out on a date, silly.” You whined as he touched your cheek, instinctively leaning into his warm hand.
König’s eyes searched yours, looking for the usual playfulness, but all he found was sincerity. His hand hovered for a moment before he pulled it away, his expression unreadable. “When you’re well enough to walk without wincing, then we’ll talk about it,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Really?” Your eyes lit up in excitement.
König nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “If you can keep that mouth of yours shut and that flirty tongue in check until then, yes, really.”
“All the more reason to send you erotic poetry, then.” You said with a cheeky smile. “I’ll have you know, my tongue is quite… versatile.”
König’s smirk grew wider. “I’ll hold you to that promise,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His cheeks flushed from the thought of the erotic poems you might send him.
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(Three) König indeed received your poems through envelopes made from beige paper. Tinted with brown, as if it was drenched over with a tea bag. The poem itself is usually written on lavender scented paper. Written with a fountain pen, in metallic crimson ink and Italian cursive. Which curled and curved as if she waved a wand of seduction. Putting a spell of love and lust over him through a dance of words.
The page had a purple metallic border, painstakingly drawn onto the page to give it a feel of elegance, royalty, and timelessness. Imbued, bathed inside of eroticism, words flowed out of your heart and mind like a river of molten lava. One could burn through the page, breaking through the fabric of reality. A declaration of desire, testament to the passion you felt, and hoped to share with König.
The letters stuffed into a larger envelope disguised as normal military missives to prevent unwanted eyes on them. Each individual letter sealed with wax, pressed on with a griffon signet ring you picked up from a Flea Market when you visited your hometown in Florence. Hoping it would add another touch of romance to your lethal charm.
You described him as your angel, as yours, as someone you were not willing to share with anyone. The way you described him as a gemstone, rough around the edges and always holding value.
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(Four) You also wrote him long form letters that you used the same method of writing your poems. Only difference between them was the scent on the paper. Instead of lavender it was Cherry Blossom and Jasmine. Written in matte crimson red ink instead of metallic.
‘I don’t want to live a fairy tale if it’s not with you.’
‘I want to make a home with you, next to you and hopefully, someday, on top of you.’
‘Your eyes are like the ocean, I always find myself drowning in them. Drifting off to sea without a care in the world. Without paddles unafraid of the circumstances of where I find myself heading towards. Flooded with a yearning to reach a destination where I might find you.’
‘I want to take your hands in mine and never let go. Your past isn’t your future, stop looking back, you’ll never be hurt again, not as long as I live on this planet.’
‘You will never be hurt again. I promise to shield you from harm. Even as you tower over me as easily as a redwood tree. I will protect your heart as someone should have long ago.’
‘You are not your mental health struggles. You are more than what you deem yourself worthy of. Like a gemstone, you are rough around the edges, always holding value, not matter the form you take.’
‘Lets build a cottage somewhere, a farm for you and me. A way to live with hurt or harm, a way to ease the hurt. A way to ease the soul. Let’s build a cottage somewhere, so I can build something for you come home to.’
‘I want to build you up with gold and make your cracks shine so bright. I want to hold each flaw with an embrace everlasting.’
‘I want to take the pain you feel from you. Leaving your soul unmarked and untainted from the horrors this world is capable of. Though I know it is not possible. We are not powerful gods as the ones the Greeks and Romans had prayed to. Even so, I will try anyway because you are worth it.’
‘I want to kiss you, softly, gently, passionately, with a fire burning brighter than the sun. A kiss to make you feel seen, a kiss making you feel alive. A kiss whispering endless promises of forever and ever after.’
Each letter signed off with, ‘We, Us, Together.’  
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(Five) König loves bringing you with either Chamomile tea, Butterfly Pea Tea, Hibiscus Tea or Mulled wine. All of which you treasured deeply. Considering they were the ones you most likely went for if you could walk. During your physical therapy, he was a blessing covered in military gear. Even if he didn’t seem to think he was helping you.
“You’re here that matters more than you think it does.” You would remind him. A smile forming on your lips, your dimples on either side of your mouth giving you’re a gentle, youthful glow. It made his knees weak and wobbly at the sight of your smile.
Here you were hurt, and you fussed over his feelings, you were still making sure he knew he was appreciated. It was a strange role reversal he found oddly endearing. You were the one who had taken a bullet to your side and your leg had taken the explosive. Yet you were the one who was comforting him. He cleared his throat and nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Dankeschön," he murmured, the German word for 'thank you' rolling off his tongue.
You replied, "Prego." meaning You're welcome in Italian.
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sillylittlecapcutuser · 11 months ago
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Konig (forgive my transgression, I’m lazy) edit
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fruitmilkshake · 8 months ago
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Is this how Ghost's unmasked face is supposed to look like 🤨?
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Credits to the respective creators of these face models
Bonus: Konig Without mask :)
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He looks funny lol
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konigslittleliebling · 11 months ago
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May I request a König thing? Like protective König (a soldier keeps flirting with reader even after they got ignored) but reader is to anxious/kind to say anything? Also can the reader be GN or GN-masc leaning? If not that's ok! Ty!
-🍄
“one drink.” he persists, leaning a perverse forearm beside where you’re trying to change. his breath fans over the back of your neck and you cringe, trying to disguise your shiver of discomfort with an awkward chuckle.
“i’ll treat ya real nice. . .” a palm rests itself on your shoulder which tenses beneath the unwelcome contact. the man’s resilient, you’ll give him that.
you smile shyly back at him, slipping from his touch and standing off to the side. he steps closer and your heart sinks. “i’m not denying you would.” you start, nervously. he smirks.
“so c’mon, then!” you jump when he opens his arms and grins disturbingly widely, like he’s baring his teeth. soon he’s chest-to-chest with you, hands gripping your hips and yanking you against him. you freeze, stomach churning at the hardness that presses against your crotch. either his excitement twitches and swells or he’s just grinding it right into you.
“so whad’ya say?” he coos, mistaking the red tint to your cheeks for enjoyment. you stumble over your words, forgetting how to speak and wondering if you should send your knee where the sun don’t shine or if you should wait for the ground to chew you up.
“nein.”
the sharp bellow slices a sizeable gap between you and the guy, his head snapping back in the direction of which the voice originated. könig looms in the doorway to the locker room — double doors — but his size incapsulates the entire space. his head is lowered, broad shoulders hunched so his masked head won’t touch the top of the frame. his arms are crossed, pale irises narrow like slits whilst they glare.
you feel your rigidness relax, a subconscious sigh escaping you through flared nostrils.
“colonel?”
your eyes flit between both men. it’s not a stand-off; more like a stand-down.
“get out.” könig barks, stooping through the doorway. the guy coils into himself when the six-foot-something austrian paces toward him, muscles stiff and strained under his gear.
“alright, alright!” the guy surrenders, backing into a locker before attempting to sidle past the hooded giant. könig catches him by the throat, gloved fingers swallowing the man’s neck so his head appears to bloom from könig’s meaty palm.
“you are off my service.” the colonel sneers, jaws obviously clenched like he’s never been in the presence of such scum in all his military years. the man isn’t even capable of gulping thanks to the weight on his windpipe, feet dangling.
könig lets him down and the guy heaves before fumbling to exit the room without a backwards glance.
“arschloch.” is thickly muttered before you chin is tilted upward and you’re forced to look into the blue of the familiar warmth you’re used to. “he did not hurt you?” a strange fear you haven’t heard before wavers in his tone and you melt into the hands he’s situated on either side of your face.
“no.” you assure him, wrapping your fingers around his wrists. they don’t meet around the thickness of them, but you feel the tendons ease under your touch. “i’m fine.”
könig’s shoulders slump with relief, his lips pressing to your forehead through the material of his sniper hood. “gott sei dank.” he guides you to return his embrace, a large hand gently hugging your head to his chest. “he will not bother you again.”
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