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konigsrose · 6 days

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König FINALLY asks Esme out… do you think she’ll be able to get over her insecurities, or do we think she’ll immediately ruin it all by being a dickhead about herself? Well, you’ll have to wait for the next chapter to find that out, soz!

König in Bloom: Chapter 8

Esme had passed a miserable evening, trying not to dwell on the way König had practically fled her house following her rather awkward admittance of her attraction to him. The way she had denigrated Lara had probably not helped… But surely he had to realise he deserved better than to be belittled the way Lara treated him? It had taken a long time for Esme to fall asleep that night, as the conversation replayed itself over and over in her head, her cheeks heating at the memory, and her stomach twisting with shame and regret. She did not sleep well, and woke groggy and confused the next morning to the sound of her doorbell.

Esme practically threw herself down the stairs, assuming it must be a delivery or something, and did not give a moment’s thought to the fact that she was wearing minuscule pyjama shorts and a raggedy old tank top, without a bra. Esme, being a fairly large woman all over, but especially in the chest department, would not be seen dead without a bra on in usual circumstances. It was not until she had opened the door to find König stood there, the morning chill suddenly hitting her, while König’s eyes practically popped out of his head as he looked at her, that she suddenly realised how insufficient her outfit was. She crossed her arms over her chest quickly, and felt her chest and her cheeks flush scarlet in the face of König’s wide-eyed stare.

“Esme…” he gulped, his eyes flickering from her legs, to her chest, to her face at speed.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” She demanded, her embarrassment and confusion spiced with annoyance.

“I… I told you I would come back? I needed to talk to you, to tell you I…” König trailed off, looking first alarmed at such an abrasive reception, then afraid. His pale cheeks blushed almost as much as Esme’s, and his blue eyes stared down at his own feet.

“Tell me what?” Esme snapped, feeling wrong footed at such an unexpected surprise, and taking out her embarrassment on him, rather unfairly. König shuffled his weight a little from one foot to the other, his hands tensing at his sides. Esme watched, and finally began to take pity on him. “Do you… do you want to come in?” She asked, voice softening a little in the face of this gentle giant’s obvious awkwardness. König nodded, briefly glancing up at Esme’s face with a look of relief, and followed Esme into the kitchen.

“Put the kettle on,” she said, arms still firmly folded over her chest. “I’ll just, um… throw on some clothes.” König grinned sheepishly at that, still unable to meet her eye.

“You… um… don’t have to,” he mumbled, his eyes briefly flickering over her body again before quickly finding his feet. Esme felt a sudden urge to laugh, though she wasn’t entirely sure why… something about the way König was avoiding her eyes and blushing so intensely was somehow utterly hilarious, given the fact she was the one so exposed; the way he was behaving you would have thought he was the one barely dressed.

“I’ll feel a lot more comfortable talking to you if I’m not busy thinking about the fact I’m almost naked, Kö,” she chuckled, and swiftly exited the room to go and grab something more appropriate. König did not voice his thoughts, though he too might find this conversation easier if he could stop thinking about how scantily clad Esme was… if only he could get it out of his head.

The kettle had just finished boiling when Esme returned, still in her tiny pyjama shorts, but now equipped with a bra and an oversized sweatshirt doing something to preserve some semblance of modesty. She waved König over to the kitchen table while she made them both coffee, and he utterly failed in his attempts not to stare at her plump figure from across the room. His eyes followed the curve of her calves, up to her thick thighs, and his mouth almost watered at the sight of them bared for him. When she bent in half to get milk from the fridge under the counter, and flashed a hint of rounded buttock, his eyes flickered up to the ceiling as he thanked any god listening for the sight. By the time Esme had turned around, and brought two cups of coffee to the table, he had been deep in a fantasy of sinking his fingers and his teeth into her pale flesh for long enough to have almost forgotten why he was there.

“So,” Esme began, as she sat across from König and stared down into her coffee, unable or unwilling to look him in the eye. “You wanted to tell me something?” That startled him from his fantasy with a jerk, and he took a sip of his coffee to cover the momentary confusion. It was hot, and sweet, and he briefly imagined bringing Esme coffee like this in bed one day. If he wanted that to happen, though, he was going to have to talk to her first.

“Ja… I wanted to tell you that I listened to what you said… About Lara…” he started, slowly, and hesitantly, as he tried to build his courage. Esme cringed, the memory of the conversation, her vehemence, her rudeness, and most of all the fact she had outright told König how attractive she found him filling her with shame so intense it made her stomach churn.

“I’m sorry, Kö, I shouldn’t have said any of that!” She said, almost pleading, close to tears as her face went crimson again. König reached his hand across the table, as if to grab hers, paused, and pulled it back again, before grabbing his coffee as if that had been his intention all along.

“I am glad you did, Esme. You were right about her, she did not even like me, really, let alone love me. And I did not love her. I…” he released his coffee again, and clenched his fist on the table. Esme dared to look up, her heart in her throat, as she stared at the frowning face of the man she adored.

“You…?” She prompted, barely daring to draw breath.

“I finished with her, Esme. Last night. That’s why I left in such a hurry. I am sorry about that, but I needed to do it while I had the courage, nicht?” König’s bright blue eyes moved from his clenched fist, up to Esme’s glittering green ones. “Danke, for giving me that courage, Esme,” he said, with a wobbly smile that could have melted Esme into a pool on the floor. She smiled back, her heart almost beating out of her chest, swollen with joy.

“You deserve so much better, Kö,” she said in almost a whisper, as if afraid of her own words. “You deserve the most wonderful, loving woman in the world.” Esme’s eyes dropped from König’s face once more as she silently added to herself that she wished she could be that woman… if only she were thinner, and prettier, and… better.

“I am starting to believe you,” König grinned sheepishly, and this time he did reach out across the table, and took her hand in his. His huge hand engulfed Esme’s, and though it was rough with calluses, somehow his touch was softer and gentler than silk even so. “So, I wanted to ask if… um…” he hesitated, willing himself to get the words out that were stuck in his throat. His hand squeezed hers. “Esme, will you… Will you go on a date with me?”

Esme’s emerald eyes snapped up to König’s face again then, shock radiating through her as if she had touched a live wire. For a second her mouth hung open, before a few half-formed syllables fell from her mouth.

“You - wha - me - date?!” Was all she managed, eyes wide in panic and disbelief. He had to be joking, surely, there was no way he could go from a woman who looked like Lara, to… well, to Esme.

“I… Ja, I mean, you said that… you said that you would have gone out with me if I had asked before, nicht? … Did you… were you just… being kind?” König had wrenched his hand back across the table as if burned, and his eyes were wide, almost tearful, as he stared at Esme in horrified confusion and hurt.

“No! No, I meant it, I just… I didn’t think you would want to…” Esme managed to force the words from a throat that felt as though it was being squeezed. “You know, with me, I mean…” she added, when König continued to look at her in utter bafflement.

“But… of course I want to?” He said, his brow still furrowed in confusion, but at least not looking half so hurt now. “So… you will?” His blue eyes were wide and pleading now, his soft lips almost a pout. Esme felt as though she were floating above herself, barely in control of her own body, and especially not her own mouth.

“Yes,” she managed to whisper, with a tiny nod, still not entirely sure she believed this was real. When König’s face split into a wide grin, and he sighed in relief, she began to believe it just a little more.

“Ja? Gott sei Dank!” He said, more to himself than her. “Friday? I would like to say let us go now, but I realise it is quite little notice, and I would like to make it good…” he grinned some more, and Esme felt the relief even through the fuzzy haze of confusion and disbelief.

“Friday,” she nodded, unable to manage more than that.

König downed the rest of his coffee, sprang from his seat, grinning wide, and pressed a quick, nervous kiss to Esme’s cheek. He blushed then, but continued to grin, as Esme’s cheek grew redder too.

“I will message you in the week…” he said, aware that if he didn’t get out of there now, he might do something ridiculous, like try to kiss Esme immediately. She nodded, still staring at him mutely, and holding one hand to her cheek where his lips had brushed it. He gave her one more radiant smile, and strode from the house, a spring in his step. Esme remained frozen at the table for some time. By the time her brain began working again, her coffee was quite cold.

#konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x oc #konig #konig fanfiction #könig #könig fluff #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x oc

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konigsrose · 14 days

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König’s Rose is back! Writing time is nonexistent and I have so many fics that all need my attention, I’m sorry that this one fell to the bottom of the pile and was neglected so long. But, here it is, a smidge of naughtiness and a soupçon of angry sister… no proofreading we die like slugs in salt

König’s Rose Chapter 34 (Also on AO3!)

Since König’s recovery from his injury - and perhaps as a result of his injury, and resultant near death experience - he had been utterly insatiable, when it came to Rose. Every opportunity they had, his hands and lips would be on her skin, his hips grinding against her, pleading wordlessly for her. Rose didn’t mind this state of affairs at all. She loved her fiancé, and loved when he made love to her; so attentively, eagerly, and above all, skilfully. It was hard to be angry about his neediness when she was coming several times a day, and being worshipped like a deity.

However, now they were in König’s mother’s cabin, sleeping in a bedroom a log-wall’s width away from her… this neediness was a problem. König’s Mama was such a sweet, kind woman, and the thought of her being made aware of the couple doing anything more than hand-holding, or sharing a chaste and innocent kiss made Rose cringe. Of course, it didn’t stop König, as they lay in bed together, pulling Rose against him by her hips, pressing her flush against him so she could feel his thick, straining hardness through his boxers as he kissed down her throat.

“König!” Rose hissed, unsuccessfully attempting to push him off. “Not with your mother in the room next door!”

“Liebling,” he groaned, dragging her back against him, “please… can’t you feel you badly I need you?” His hands were gripping her tight, and she certainly could feel how desperate he was; the pressure of it pressed against her was really testing her resolve.

“Tomorrow,” she promised, forcing herself not to allow her hips to grind against him. “When your mother goes to church, you can have me… as loud as you want,” she pressed a kiss to just below König’s ear and murmured quietly, “you want to hear how much I enjoy you, don’t you?”

König groaned again, but let his grip on Rose’s hips loosen a little. She snuggled into his chest, and eventually, with much effort, managed to fall asleep. König lay awake much longer, trying to ignore the throbbing, and trying not to think about the sounds he would pull from Rose’s lungs tomorrow… Both attempts were unsuccessful. It took several hours for him to eventually fall asleep, soothed by Rose’s rhythmic breathing, and the warmth of her body beneath his arm.

They had breakfast with König’s mother the next morning, and tried not to let their eagerness for her to leave the house show. When she finally did leave, König didn’t even wait to undress Rose, simply pushing her dress up, pulling her underwear down, and bending her over the kitchen table with his face buried in her. Even as eager for relief as he was, he took his time to pleasure her with mouth and hands first; after all, he wanted to hear her screaming for him.

They had barely finished making love - still in the kitchen, which they had not quite managed to leave - and were adjusting their clothing when the sound of the front door opening made them move quite a lot quicker to drag, tuck and readjust themselves. Rose had only just managed to drop her dress back down, and desperately tried not to think about the fact that her underwear was most definitely soaking through with König’s release, when a call came from the hallway.

“Mama? König? Anyone home?” The voice was female, Austrian, and definitely not König’s mother.

“Anna!” König grinned as a tall, slim, dark-haired woman walked into the kitchen. She had the same blue eyes as König, and judging by the way she hugged him, Rose assumed this must be the sister who would be the last family member to decide Rose’s fate. Rose tried to smile as disarmingly as possible as the woman peered around König’s bicep while they hugged. Her smile was met with narrowed eyes and a steely gaze, which raked over Rose’s dishevelled dress and hair, and lingered on a pink bite mark that was slowly fading on Rose’s chest. If she’d had the chance, Rose would have covered it up with a cardigan or something; she had not been expecting company so soon after her and König’s tryst. Anna was released from the hug, and her brother made cheerful introductions, not noticing the look of disdain which had passed over his sister’s face.

“Liebling, this is my little sister, Anna,” König squeezed Anna’s shoulder. “Anna, this is my fiancée, my beautiful little Rose,” he grinned widely, and looked from one to the other in excited anticipation. Anna smiled a smile that felt to Rose like one that should have belonged to a shark, moving at high speed towards an injured swimmer.

“So nice to finally meet you,” Anna said, her voice cheery, but her eyes still cold. “Kö, why don’t you go get my bags from the car and take them up to the spare bedroom,” she smiled a sweet and ingratiating little smile. “Give me and little Rose time for some girl talk, get to know each other.” König nodded obediently, still grinning as he looked between the two women, and took Anna’s keys from her outstretched hand.

Left alone with Rose, Anna’s smile dropped, and her eyes narrowed once more. Rose tried to begin some polite conversation in her most friendly and sincere voice, but was quickly cut off.

“I believe you are currently a student in university?” Anna asked sharply, as if this were some kind of crime. Rose nodded, and began to speak a response, but was again cut off mid-syllable.

“And you intend to continue your studies when you’re married to my brother?” Rose’s brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what exactly Anna’s problem might be. Again, she tried to speak, but Anna seemed determined to interrupt the answers to her own questions with further questions.

“And my brother will be footing the bill I assume?”

Light dawned on Rose; suddenly Anna’s irritation made some sense. She thought Rose was using König for his money! He did have an awful lot of it, and he did like to spend it on Rose, despite her protests. Rose was a little offended at this assumption, though she had to admit, she could sort of see Anna’s logic; penniless but pretty student meets extremely wealthy and incredibly shy König, who has never had any luck with women… Rose suddenly realised Anna was still waiting for a response, while all this worked itself out in her mind.

“No, I work for the university, that’s how it’s being funded,” Rose said, almost laughing in her relief. “I don’t need König’s money,” she added, assuming this assertion would win Anna over, and perhaps melt that icy stare she was determinedly giving her.

“Really? It would be nice though, wouldn’t it, given how much he earns? For you to live on that instead?” Anna went on, undeterred by Rose’s response, as if by continuing to press Rose she might catch her out. Her eyes glanced at the bite mark again, her eyebrow arched, and Rose felt, rather than saw, the annoyance. She couldn’t really blame her for that; nobody wants to think of their brother sinking their teeth into someone, especially not when you think that someone is probably using sex as a bargaining chip to take his money from him. Rose shifted uncomfortably, and pressed her hand to the mark on her chest.

“I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am, and I’m not about to quit and sponge off your brother just because I technically could,” Rose spoke directly, feeling irritated by this continued line of questioning.

Anna’s eyebrow remained arched, and her expression somewhere between disdain, and disbelief.

“Hmm.” She did not even bother to respond in words, just a little noise of derision, her lips pursed tight. She stared Rose down, unblinking and cold.

Rose could feel her cheeks heating, the unfairness of Anna’s opinion of her fuelling her rage. How dare she? Rose was working two jobs AND researching her PhD… she practically had to fight König every time a bill needed paying, and she certainly didn’t ask for any of the gifts and treats he bought for her! And as for that judgemental little look Anna kept giving the mark on Rose’s chest, yes, they did have sex, and a lot of it - but they were damn well adults! Rose wasn’t making König buy her affection, in fact she actively tried to stop him from doing so! She clenched her fists, and tried unsuccessfully to speak calmly… the look of derision on Anna’s face as Rose spoke did not help.

“Look, Anna, I love your brother for who he is; not how much money is in his bank account. I’m not going to lie, and say he doesn’t spend his money on me, because he does - I am spoiled absolutely rotten by him - but that’s his choice.” Rose had remained fairly calm up to this point; but then Anna had rolled her blue eyes, and snorted her disgust. “If König didn’t have a penny to his name I would love him just as much,” Rose went on, her voice becoming quite heated, until she finished in a voice that wasn’t a shout, but definitely suggested shouting could be an option: “And he loves me too, and no amount of snide comments or underhanded questions from you will change that!”

Anna’s lip curled in the ugliest expression Rose had ever seen on a face, as she leaned forward, and jabbed a finger into Rose’s chest, just below the pink bite.

“We’ll see about that.” She grinned evilly, and as they heard the heavy footfalls of König returning, her grin became a false, sweet little smile, her hand dropped, and she turned to her brother as if nothing had happened.

#konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x oc #konig #konig fanfiction #könig fluff #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig #könig smut

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konigsrose · 1 month

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König in Bloom…

I finally wrote something for it! In this chapter we continue our angst, as Kö is still dating that bitch Lara, and Esme is pining hopelessly… To the point she can’t hold her tongue anymore, and risks driving him away for good! Or… Maybe he’s just gone somewhere to have an important conversation…

#konig call of duty #konig fanfiction #konig x oc #könig call of duty #könig fluff #konig cod #König x oc

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konigsrose · 1 month

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König x Unhappily Married Reader pt5

Congratulations for reaching the final part! It’s FILTHY so MDNI and 18+ only, of course. Hope you’ve enjoyed the ride… Check out my AO3 if you want more König smut and fluff! Chapter Link and Full Works Link

Enjoyyyyyyy ————————

When you had arrived home that night, König came with you; he flashed a wad of cash to the taxi driver, and asked the driver to wait until König had seen you safely inside. König didn’t let you enter first, simply letting you unlock the door, then telling you to stand behind him as he checked the building. You probably shouldn’t have been too surprised, he had been an insertion specialist during his time in the field, and if any man knew how to breach and clear a building, it was him. You couldn’t help but feel he was being a little overprotective, though you had to admit to yourself, you found it kind of thrilling. König checked every room in your house, glancing through each door for anything suspicious, any sign that your husband had made a stupid decision… but there was nothing.

Nothing, but the note. Written in wobbly, drunken handwriting that seriously lacked appropriate punctuation, the note was left on the kitchen table scrawled on the back of an envelope. You read it with shaking hands, König standing behind you, reading over your shoulder, his fists clenched.

“Hope he’s worth it slut. You want a quick divorce so you can ride off into the sunset with your meathead - sell house 60/40 split I’ll go quietly. Don’t think about arguing I’m not scared of him.”

You laughed out loud, the joy that it was finally over outweighing the insult, the stupidity, and the demand. You would happily have given your husband - no, your ex-husband - the whole house, if it meant you would be free to start again. Being called a slut didn’t hurt, given that you hadn’t been touched by a man in almost a decade, though now you couldn’t help but hope that was going to change pretty quickly. You turned to König with a grin on your face, eyes brimming with tears of joy, and were surprised to see he didn’t look half as happy as you. In fact, he looked positively enraged, his jaw and fists clenched tight, eyes burning with anger. You reached up, cupping that tightened jaw with your soft little hand, and turned his face from the note, to you.

“I don’t care,” you said, quietly, reassuringly. “I don’t care what he calls me, or how much money he wants. I’m just glad it’s over.” Your fingers lightly caressed König’s cheek, and you sighed in relief. “Thank you,” you whispered, gazing up in adoration. “I could still find him, teach him his manners, test just how unafraid of me he is?” König offered, his fists finally unclenching, hands moving to your waist. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth anything. Not like you…”

It took a great deal of restraint for König not to lean down, and press his lips to yours in that moment. He would have loved to have taken you right there, on that kitchen table, the note beneath your writhing body as he gave you all the pleasure you had been missing these last years. But he was a gentleman, at least when it came to you… And so, he kissed your forehead instead, and held you to his chest, before making you promise if anything happened overnight you would call him. He left, with an ache in the pit of his stomach, and another in his boxers, and prayed that you’d still want him tomorrow, and the day after that too. He needn’t have worried; you spent the whole night dreaming of your new life, free of your ex-husband and all the misery he wrought on you, and every dream had König at the centre of it.

You went to work as normal the next day, a little tired, and minus the silver rings on your finger. You were glad to be rid of them, you had always liked gold jewellery anyway, not that your ex had ever paid enough attention to know that. You exchanged nothing more than glances and smiles with König all day; him too nervous to approach you, too afraid of pressuring you, scaring you off, or embarrassing you at work… You, not sure how well you’d be able to control yourself, and hoping against hope that maybe tonight he would offer more than just a kiss on the forehead and a chest to lay your head on. You desperately waited for the last person in the office to leave, leaving you and König finally alone.

Only then did you dare to slip into his office, nerves welling in your stomach, heart pounding in your chest, to thank him once more for what he had done for you. You were so quiet, he didn’t even notice you enter the room, until you were halfway across it; he pushed his chair back and made to rise, but you stepped smartly behind the desk and laid a hand on his shoulder. He was closer to eye level for you like this anyway, you thought with an internal chuckle. You dithered for a moment, wondering how to start, what words you could possibly say that would express your gratitude, your desire… His eyes were wide, staring at you with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, and you realised that there were no words for what you were feeling. Instead, you gathered every ounce of courage, leaned forward, and crashed your mouth against his, praying to every and any god that he would kiss you back.

Your prayers were more than answered, as surprise faded into delight, and König’s hands pulled you into his lap, his mouth answering yours with increasingly desperate, messy kisses. It wasn’t long before you were both unbuttoning each other’s shirts, his huge fingers fumbling with your tiny buttons, until both chests were bare, and your hands eagerly roamed one another’s bodies. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, his fingers squeezed your breasts, delving into the lace of your bra to toy with your hardening nipples as you straddled his lap, skirt pushed up around your waist to make space for his huge thighs between your own, and started to grind against him. He moaned into your mouth at the feel of you rubbing yourself against his straining hard-on, which only encouraged you to press harder, move faster, the lace of your underwear slick with your excitement.

You bucked and writhed in his lap, your clit grinding against the hard bulge in König’s trousers, leaving a patch of damp arousal on him as he kissed you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands were all over you, grasping your thighs, hips, breasts, until you broke from the kiss to whimper against his lips. “König- I’m going to-“ a high pitched little squeak of a moan stole the rest of the sentence away as you approached your climax. König’s hands gripped your hips tight and rocked them back and forth, taking over when you’d grown too excited to be able to maintain your own movements against him. He watched in awe and delight as your body went rigid, your thighs twitched, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open as you came. The fact that, still fully clothed, you could get yourself off just rubbing that sweet little cunt against his bulge was intoxicating, and the sweet little moan you made when you came on his clothed cock sent König into a frenzy. He barely gave you time to get over your orgasm, before he was throwing you onto the desk, skirt pushed around your waist, tearing your lace underwear in two as if it were made of nothing, and burying his face between your thighs to taste your dripping arousal.

You couldn’t help but let out a low, delighted moan when König’s mouth finally met your cunt. You didn’t remember the last time you were pleasured like this - hell, you had never been made to feel this good - and all you could do was lie back, trying not to let your hips buck and writhe too much as his greedy mouth explored you. His tongue was lapping at you, probing you, then swirling and teasing your sensitive clit, until he began to gently kiss and suck it… it didn’t take long for you to be whimpering once more, the coil in your core tightening, your body tensing as your second orgasm approached. König pushed two large fingers into you, making you gasp with excitement at the stretch, while his mouth continued to work your clit. When you came undone again, you writhed, thighs trying to clamp together, but König’s free hand pinned you in place. He did not stop kissing, licking, sucking, working you through your climax and into overstimulation, making you tremble.

“König!” You whined, a third orgasm tearing through you almost immediately after the second, your cunt clamping tight around his big fingers. The sound of his name on your lips, moaned in ecstasy, did something to König. His icy blue eyes, which had not left your face as he pleasured you with his mouth and hand, took on a wild, frenzied look. He had been so in control, so calm, but hearing you whimper his name as your pussy clenched and pulsed against his mouth and around his fingers tore through any restraint he had left. He stood up, wiping your glistening arousal from his mouth with one huge hand, sucking it from his fingers, and paused momentarily to look over you, surveying the delicious sight before him. You, sprawled out on his desk, him between your thighs, your skirt up around your waist, blouse undone, breasts spilling from the lace of your bra… This was everything he had ever dreamed of… well, almost. He hovered uncertainly, desperate to take the next step, to claim you as his properly, to mould your sweet, tight pussy to the shape of his huge cock… but he needed you to make the decision, he didn’t want to push you. The wild look in his eyes as he gazed down at you was more than enough for you though, and you reached out with trembling hands. As you unbuckled his belt, your eyes flickered between König’s massive, throbbing bulge, and his face, with that desperate expression.

“Please?” You whispered, your hands busily unbuttoning and unzipping, eager for more. “You want me to fuck you, Liebling?” König breathed, stopping your hands in their movements, taking them in his own. You nodded, biting your lip, and again managed to whisper a plea. The moment the word left your lips, König had his boxers shoved down, his lengthy cock springing free, slapping against his stomach. You knew he would be big, but even the bulge you had been grinding against earlier hadn’t given a hint of just how big he was. Not just long, but thick, and rock hard, veins stood out like ropes wrapped around his meaty cock. König let your hand wrap around it, and your fingers didn’t manage to touch your thumb, he was so huge. You pulled his length down, until his tip was pressed against your slick entrance, and looked up at König’s face as he held himself there. His voice was gentle as one of his hands took over from yours, holding him in place, while he interlaced the fingers of his other hand with your own. “Are you ready, Engel?” He asked softly, patiently, his throbbing cock nestled against you. Again, you nodded, and again your teeth clamped on your bottom lip in anticipation.

Slowly, so slowly, König’s hips began to push forward.

The stretch of him filling you should surely have been painful, given his size; you felt nothing but pleasure, deep, delicious, breathtaking pleasure, as he pushed inside you. It was as if you were made for him, made to take him like this, or to be taken by him, and he moaned as he hilted himself in you, one hand on your thigh, one interlaced with your own hand, both tensing and squeezing as he felt the tight embrace of your cunt. He looked down at you with awe, with worship in his eyes, and slowly, gently moved his hips back, before driving himself into you again. You felt so good around him, within a few thrusts he was on the edge, feeling your heat and tightness dragging him towards release.

The hand pressing your thigh back moved to where you were joined, his thumb pressing down on your clit, making you moan even louder. He began to fuck you harder then, each moan and gasp spurring him on, as you trembled and writhed beneath him, overwhelmed with pleasure. Soon you were coming again, the pressure of his thumb combined with the way he fucked you so deep and hard sending you into spasms of ecstasy. König roared, feeling you clenching and pulsing around his length, and managed to gasp out a question, begging to know where you wanted his load, barely able to hold back from filling your fluttering cunt with it.

“Please,” you whimpered, still wild with ecstasy, “inside - fill me!” You managed to get the words out between your moans, and felt König somehow become even wilder at the words. He pounded into you, harder, faster, thrusting roughly as you continued to come around his huge cock, until he slammed against you a final time, burying himself and shooting spurt after spurt of his release deep into you. You clawed at his shoulders, frenzied with delight when you felt it, the pulsing heat of his cum filling you to the brim, until he collapsed down on top of you, utterly spent, and you nuzzled into his shoulder, exhausted.

It was a while before König managed to gather the strength to pull himself from you, kissing you softly before he straightened up. He gazed down at you, utterly satisfied, spread on his desk, his creamy load dripping from your cunt, and knew in that moment that you were truly his. No certificate, no ring, no lawyer could change that immutable fact; you were his, and he was yours. König cleaned you up as best he could, helped you redress, and finally, took you home. Not your old home, of course, but his, or as he thought of it now, both of yours. Of course, there would be discussions to be had, legalities to deal with, but that night all that mattered was that you were together. You spent much of the night revelling in each other, giving in to those fantasies and dreams you had both spent months trying to push aside.

The next morning, you woke in a strange bed which carried a familiar smell; that spicy scent of König’s cologne, mixed with his soap, and the smell of sex. You were aching, muscles sore, especially your thighs… but when the warm bulk of König’s body was pressed against your back, you didn’t care about the aching muscles. He took you so gently that morning, pressing soft, hot kisses to every part of your body as he worshipped you. When you were done, he carried you to the shower and washed your body with a tenderness that seemed almost impossible for a man his size. He made you breakfast, before you dressed in one of his shirts - a dress, on you, it was so big - and drove you to your old home. König trailed behind you as you walked around the place, picking up those few things that still mattered to you; some clothing, jewellery that had belonged to your grandmother, and a few books. It was a very small bag that you filled to take into your new life, but König took it from your hand anyway, unwilling to let you carry anything by yourself, regardless of the weight. He laughed when he saw how little you were taking with you, and you smiled too, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he took the little bag from your hand.

Now you had König, what more could you possibly need?

#konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig fanfiction #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #konig x unhappily married #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x unhappily married

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konigsrose · 1 month

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König x unhappily married reader Pt 4

I may have let this one get inadvertently long… but this is the last stop on our journey to filth, and the penultimate chapter! Tomorrow, there will be plenty of smut to be had. AO3 LINK

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You had largely been avoiding Colonel König since your birthday, and the brief moment of tension between you two in his office. Of course, you had to remain professional, you spoke in passing where necessary, but you had been very strict with yourself about not visiting his office any more than was strictly required to do your job. It had been almost a month, and it was almost Christmas now, and though you had managed to remain professional at work, your nights were still filled with thoughts of him, no matter how hard you tried to reject those fantasies. Today, however, you were forced to interact with him, in a way that would certainly not help with your fantasies. A little after midday one of the higher-ups from another team had stormed into König’s office looking for him, a file in hand; he had found the room empty, and with your desk the closest one, rounded on you to find out where the Colonel was.

“He’s in the gym, Sir, on his lunch break,” you had squeaked, knowing König’s routine by heart. The other man had huffed in annoyance, thrown the file onto your desk, and barked an order at you. “Take this down to him and get him to sign it. It needs to be with the courier by 1!” You had thought about arguing, making some excuse for why you couldn’t possibly be the one to do this task… But it was your job, and you weren’t about to be reprimanded for failing to follow such a simple order. You couldn’t exactly say “no, Sir, because I’m in love with him and seeing him in the gym might destroy me.” And so, you had picked up the file, and tottered down the three flights of stairs in your heels to the basement, where the gym was.

You hovered at the glass door for a moment, scanning the room for the Colonel. He was not hard to find, especially when he dropped the huge weights he was lifting with a crash that shook the room, on seeing you entering the gym. He had felt embarrassed about that, he wasn’t usually the type to crash around in the gym, preferring calm and collected efficiency… but it had been a while since you’d been alone together, and the sight of you, blushing as you approached him, the only two people in the gym, had shocked him into poor manners.

“Colonel, Sir, I, um, sorry, to disturb you, I…” you stammered, holding the file in front of you as if it were a shield. You tried not to let your eyes linger on those bulging muscles, the tight vest, the little beads of sweat. You felt the heat in your core, and desperately tried to ignore it. “There’s no need for the colonel, or the sir, you know my name and you’re allowed to use it,” König grinned, his heart fluttering at the sight of you, so obviously flustered. “And you’re not disturbing me,” he wiped his sweating forehead with a towel, and you couldn’t help a little tremble at the sight of his arm flexing as he did it. “What did you need?”

The initial response that went through your mind was pretty simple - you, Colonel, are what I need, especially sweating and flexing like that. You are everything that I need, and more, you thought, as your eyes raked over his body, even without your willing them to. You squashed the treacherous thought and managed to stammer a more suitable response. “You, si- Colonel- König,” you almost choked on the words, “I mean - I need you - to, um, sign this, please? It needs to be with the courier by 1pm.” You held out the file and a pen, your hand trembling, your eyes darting between the file, the pen, and König. He smiled coolly, and took both file and pen from your shaking fingers, brushing his far larger ones briefly against yours.

He signed the file quickly, his eyes passing swiftly over the contents, before throwing out a question as if entirely offhand, and barely interested. “Will I see you tonight, at the Christmas party?” His eyes briefly flicked to your face as he returned the file and pen. “Yes, sir- I mean, yes, König.” You felt your cheeks heating even more, and prayed he couldn’t tell. “Your husband coming too?” König’s eyebrow raised in interrogation, and you felt your heart sink at the question. “I’m afraid so,” you shrug, trying to play the words as a joke. You were surprised when he grinned, the grin not unlike a shark who has just tasted blood in the water. “I’m glad. I’m looking forward to meeting him.” There was a hint of a threat in the words, and calmly, he turned back to his weights, easily lifting some so heavy they probably weighed twice as much as your husband. You practically fled the gym, and back to your desk, where you spent the rest of the day turning his words over in your mind.

They continued to fill your head as you began to get ready for the party that evening. You couldn’t remember the last time you put this much effort into your appearance… but the thought of König finally seeing you in something other than your work clothes sent a thrill through you. You did your hair and makeup perfectly, far better than you usually would, taking time with every step. You pulled a dress from the back of your wardrobe; you hadn’t had an opportunity to wear it in years, and as you tugged it on, you thanked any god listening that it still fitted. You had to admit, you looked pretty damn great in it; deep red satin, tight fitting, low cut, and curve enhancing. Once upon a time, your husband probably would have begged to get you out of it; now he barely glanced at you as you walked into the living room, where he waited, playing on his phone. There was no conversation as you sat in the taxi on the way there, and your mind was filled more with thoughts of König, than the uncomfortable silence between you and your husband, that had become so familiar now it was hardly even uncomfortable any more.

When you entered the room the party was held in, the first thing you did was scan it for König, your eyes desperately seeking him out. He wasn’t hard to find, of course, given his size, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his jaw went slack, and his eyes widened as he looked at you. He practically jumped from his seat, and strode across the room towards you. “Wow,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down to embrace you in welcome. He paused in the hug for a moment, just long enough to whisper three more words before pulling away. “You look stunning.” You could feel his breath against your cheek, and smell his cologne; it made your heart pound in your chest. Your face flushed, and you grinned up at him with eyes wide and adoring as he pulled away. Your husband loitered at your side, hands in his pockets, looking bored already, not even attempting to arrange his face into a false look of interest.

“And this must be the husband,” König plastered a false smile on his face, though his teeth were bared, and it looked more like a growl. “The” husband, not “your” husband, he thought to himself; and not for much longer, with any luck, the bastard. Your husband nodded, and introduced himself with an arrogance and disinterest barely short of being obviously rude, and began to look around for something more interesting; he spotted a table of drinks, with a pretty young waitress nervously beside it, and excused himself.

“He seems like an asshole,” König grunted, when your husband had left at speed, whether attracted by the drinks or the waitress, it was anyone’s guess; probably both. “You’ve got that right,” you rolled your eyes, “hopefully he’ll make out with the waitress in front of everyone, and I’ll have decent grounds for divorce,” you tried to laugh, as though this was an hilarious joke, and not a plea for help. “My offer to get rid of him still stands, liebling,” König joined the laughter, though for both of you it was hollow. It was König, not your husband, who led you to the drinks, letting your arm rest on his. For much of the evening you sat together, surrounded by other colleagues, chatting, laughing, drinking happily. Your husband seemed far more interested in hovering around the table of welcome champagne, taking as many as he wanted, and bothering the waitress.

It had been an hour, and he hadn’t left that table. He had drunk an embarrassing number of glasses of champagne, and not once bought a drink at the bar. You physically cringed as you saw him trying to slip his arm around the waitress’s waist, leaning in close to her. You know you had joked about it with König earlier, but seeing it really happening made you feel sick. You weren’t jealous; you’d meant it when you said if he could have an affair that would make your life a lot easier, and give you a perfect excuse to leave him… but right now, in front of everyone you worked with? You were grateful you seemed to be the only one who noticed, as you scanned the crowd, yours were the only eyes looking at them… No, not the only eyes. König’s eyes were fixed on your husband and the young waitress, who admittedly looked as if she needed rescuing, and was not enjoying your husband’s attempts at flirting. You watched as König silently rose from his chair, and walked towards the pair.

You considered following, protesting, doing something, but you felt utterly frozen in your seat as you watched König put an arm around your husband’s shoulder, leaning down to say something in his ear. Your husband looked for a moment like he might put up a fight, but you saw König’s hand clench on his shoulder, a wince of pain… and the two men heading for the door. At that moment, one of your colleagues arrived at your table with cocktails in hand; when you next looked up König and your husband were nowhere to be seen.

König guided the man outside with a firm grip, and a few words hissed into his ear. He had seen enough; not just tonight, but over the months you had worked with him. He would not allow you to be disrespected like this, openly, in front of others. It was bad enough how poorly your husband treated you in private, the little snippets of your relationship he had heard of, the days you had arrived at work in tears… But to willingly and blatantly embarrass you in public? That was a step too far; the way König saw it, this pathetic little Arschloch had had plenty of time to save himself, and his marriage.

Outside the building, König released his vice-like grip on your husband, and stood calmly beside him, looking up at the night sky as if entirely uninterested. “You have two choices; I’m not an unreasonable man, and there are always choices to be made. You can either be her ex-husband, or her late husband; it’s up to you which.” The words were delivered coolly, without a hint of emotion. “You can’t threaten-“ your husband began, the champagne clearly giving him an idiotic surge of courage in the face of the giant before him. “It is not a threat, it is a choice,” König cut in and shrugged, which somehow only seemed to emphasise the bulk of his shoulders. “And a promise,” he added, turning with a stare that sent an icy shiver down your husband’s spine. “I would suggest that perhaps, while I enjoy a drink or two more with that beautiful woman inside, you get in a taxi, go home, and collect anything you think you’ll need. When I drop her at home at midnight, I expect she’ll find a note explaining your departure, or something like that.” These words were spoken just as casually, as if a mere suggestion, not an order.

“And you’ll take her to our bed, to comfort her, I suppose,” your husband spat, though his expression was more like a sulking child than an enraged, cuckolded husband. He had long given up caring about you, that was clear… but he had some pride left, if not any actual desire. “Not tonight, no. I am a real man, and a gentleman, unlike you,” König spoke the words lightly, as if they were of no more importance than passing the time of day. “I would not take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, especially when she’s been drinking.”

Your husband snorted at that, a noise of derision and disbelief, that made König’s fists itch. It was only the knowledge that you had not given him permission to punch this little weasel into a pulp that stayed his hands. He took a breath, and calmed himself. “When she’s sober, and has had time to think about things… If she wants me, I’ll show her how a real man treats a woman as good as her. She won’t even be able to remember your name.” A small smile lifted the corners of König’s lips, at the thought of how he would worship you, given the chance. “I’m done with her anyway,” your husband’s words are venomous, and he begins to walk away, towards the row of taxis a little way outside the building. König watched him, his expression utterly detached. “Midnight, remember? If you’re still there then, you’ve made your choice,” he called, hardly raising his voice at all. Your husband didn’t say another word, only shot a look of utmost contempt towards König, who watched him get into a taxi, before returning inside, to you.

“I put him in a taxi home,” he murmured into your ear, “and suggested he may wish to consider his future as your husband, if he’s going to to treat you that way.” “You didn’t hurt him, did you?” There was almost a tone of hope in your voice, that was not well-disguised as concern. König huffed a laugh at that. “No, liebling, but if you’d like me to, I would?” You smiled in response, and looped your arm around his, your hand gently laying on the thick muscle of his forearm. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Kö. But maybe I could buy you a drink, to say thank you for rescuing me?” “Absolutely not,” König began to walk you to the bar. “The drinks are on me,” he unlooped his arm from yours, and slipped his hand onto your lower back instead, guiding you. “We’re celebrating, after all,” he grinned. As you felt the heat of his hand on your back, and the lurch of butterflies in your stomach, you couldn’t help but agree; this was a time to celebrate, after all.

#konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig fanfiction #könig #könig call of duty #König x you #konig x reader #konig x you #König x unhappily married #konig x unhappily married

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konigsrose · 1 month

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Consistent commenters I adore you. The couple of people who comment on almost every chapter I write… you are my lifeblood. I would kiss every bit of your face if I could. THANK YOU.

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konigsrose · 1 month

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König x Unhappily Married Reader pt 3

I was going to try and space these out more, but I got a little obsessed and finished the whole fic, so I’m going to post a part a day until Friday when it’ll be all over! AO3 Link

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It was your birthday, and you had cried on your way into work again. Again, you sat in your car, trying desperately to cover up your puffy eyes and smudged mascara, wiping with tissues before layering on concealer. You hated yourself for it; it wasn’t that you particularly cared about your husband, in fact you probably would jump for joy if he never returned home… but today, of all days, to feel so unwanted, pathetic, and forgotten? He had told you a week ago that he was going away for a few days, he and some of his golfing buddies were taking a trip across the country for a golf tournament. You hadn’t been bothered, it would be a blessed relief not to have to cook and clean for him for a few days, and be free of the constant nagging and belittling. When you’d realised it would be over your birthday, you hadn’t bothered to argue. You assumed he would at least leave you a card, maybe a gift if you were lucky, or some petrol-station flowers before he went.

There was, of course, nothing. Not so much as a text message to say happy birthday. You weren’t even that angry at him about it; you were angry at yourself, for not having the courage to just leave him, even now. And so, once more, you had cried about your own cowardice, cleaned yourself up as best you could, and headed into work. Your favourite colleague - well, favourite female colleague - had brought you a card, seen your badly fixed makeup, and made you spill all within minutes of entering the building. You had tried to hold it in, but it felt good to admit it, and she was of course on your side, listening to you sob, before sending you off to fix your makeup again and giving you a chance to calm down before starting work properly for the day.

You hadn’t even noticed König watching the pair of you from his office, a look of horror on his face at your tears. When you’d gone, he had followed your colleague to the break room, desperate to know what had you so upset. “What’s going on with her?” König grunted, trying to seem as if he only cared professionally; it wouldn’t do for the best member of his team to be out of action. Nothing personal, of course.

“It’s her birthday and… Well, don’t tell her I said anything?” She looked around, as if checking for anyone else listening, though they were alone in the staff kitchen. König nodded; he’d promise whatever if it meant he could find out the reason for your tears, and maybe be the one to stop them. “Her husband is away on a golfing holiday with his friends, didn’t even leave her a card, or send her a message or anything. Asshole.” She clattered with cup and spoon, adding sugar to her coffee, throwing König a look of contempt at the treatment by your pathetic husband.

“Sheiße, really, nothing, not even flowers?” König’s rage was bubbling again, his fists clenched, even as he pretended to be preparing himself a coffee too. “Not a damn thing. I told her it’s about time she divorced his ass!” Your colleague spat the words, almost as angry as König was, though he hid it better. “Why doesn’t she? They don’t have kids or anything, do they?” “No kids… But who knows… Low self esteem, too scared of being alone, afraid of what her family would say? I guess everyone is scared of the unknown… But any unknown would be better for her than him.” She rolled her eyes, shrugged, and left the break room, coffee in hand.

König stood for a minute, lost in thought. He considered his options. Maybe he could find this bastard husband, and give him what he deserved… But that wasn’t the way. You were gentle, and kind; violence wasn’t going to be the answer here. Maybe he could just do something to make you smile, remind you that you were worth more than your idiot husband seemed to think you were? If you were his wife, your birthday would be filled with flowers, expensive gifts, lavish dinners… anything you wanted. Of course, König wasn’t allowed to do any of those things, not as your boss… Well, maybe he could get away with just a little something. He dropped his half made coffee back on the counter, and left the office, not even stopping to grab his jacket.

When he got back, he had a cardboard box in his arms that he hadn’t had when he left. He felt stupid, but he didn’t want to give you a gift in front of the whole office, so he had hidden it in the box, and would wait until everyone else had left. You were always the last to leave, and given how miserable you were at home, especially today, König was sure you would be staying late tonight. The day seemed to pass painfully slowly, König glancing up at you at your desk every few minutes, willing time to pass. It was agony to wait, but as the last couple of workers left, and it was only you and König still in the building, he nervously called you in to his office.

“I… I wanted to say happy birthday,” he began, looking amusingly sheepish for a man who could probably snap another man in half without breaking a sweat. He turned, and reached into the box beside his desk, pulling out a vast and beautiful bouquet of flowers. He had considered roses, but feared that might be too obviously romantic; instead he had chosen a mix of flowers, guided by the florist, in all shades of pink, and red, and purple. “Colonel,” you managed to breathe, your eyes widening in surprise and delight as you reach out and take the flowers from him. “That’s so kind of you, really, you didn’t have to,” you felt your voice catching in your throat as a lump formed, and your eyes pricked with tears. You tried to bow your head, praying he wouldn’t notice, but König studied you too well not to; he took the flowers back and placed them down again, stepping closer to you, and gazing down into your teary eyes. “I wanted to,” he murmured, and added, as a tear teetered on your lashes, “you deserve to be given beautiful things every day, not just on your birthday.” He lifted a trembling hand to your face, and you felt your heart jolt in your chest.

His hand tenderly cupped your cheek, a huge thumb gently wiping away a stray tear which had spilled. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, letting the scent of him fill you, and reached up to let your own hand rest over his against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, and saw König’s, fixed on your face, his expression one of desperate longing. Your lungs felt as though they had turned to stone, you could not possibly breathe, with his hand in yours pressed to your face, so soft, so tender. You tilted your chin ever so slightly higher, as if trying to reach up closer to him, and his eyes were drawn to your lips. König’s own lips parted ever so slightly as he looked at your pretty rosebud mouth, and for a moment it seemed he may finally lean down, and capture those lips with his own. The tension was unbearable, as he hesitated, gazing eagerly at your soft mouth like a man dying of thirst gazing at a glass of water.

A sound cuts through the tense silence, just as König’s neck begins to bend, lowering himself to you; the phone on his desk is ringing. The sound was like a banshee, screeching into the room, and you jumped back from him, dropping his hand with a start of shock. What were you doing? What were you thinking?! Your cheeks heated, and you scrambled to grab the flowers, muttering a mix of thanks and apologies as you fled König’s office, heart pounding. Your head was spinning, twisting with so many emotions swirling in you it was dizzying. You wanted him, god, you wanted him to kiss you, to take you right there in his office… but it was wrong, you knew it was, no matter what your husband had done. If the phone hadn’t rung, what could have happened?

That night, despite the guilt and shame bubbling in your gut, you spent much of the night imagining what could have happened. Instead of the banshee scream of a phone, it would have been your voice, crying out; König’s name, in ecstasy. You weren’t sure if the interruption was a blessing, or a curse… but the flowers sitting on your nightstand, next to your bed, couldn’t help but make you wish that phone had never rung.

#konig call of duty #konig x you #konig cod #konig fanfiction #könig #konig #könig call of duty #König x reader #konig x reader #konig x unhappily married

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konigsrose · 1 month

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I’ve already written half of part 3, 4, and 5 of the König x unhappily married reader fic 🫣

OBSESSED, I TELL YOU!

Got to try and not spam you all with all the parts at once tho

#konig call of duty #konig x oc #könig x reader #König x unhappily married #könig x you #konig x you

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konigsrose · 1 month

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König x Unhappily Married Reader pt2

I promised there would be more, and here it is! Part 2 of 5… Come on, we’re slow burning, you know they can’t bang until at least Part 4 or 5!

It had been another shitty morning. You and your husband hadn’t argued; you didn’t bother to argue anymore, perhaps the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. It wasn’t even worth the effort of arguing, of trying to change things… But he had been an asshole, and you had simply taken it. He was looking for his favourite blue checked shirt, and had been unable to find it; somehow, this was your fault. The shirt was the one he wore whenever he had some important work thing going on, or if he was planning to go down the pub after work, which was most nights, now. That was why he couldn’t find it, of course, he had only worn it two days ago, and it was still in the wash; you had worked late the last couple of days and not had time. Of course, your husband wasn’t capable of putting a wash on himself.

This irritated your husband endlessly. Since you had been promoted, and started making more money than him, he was particularly determined to remind you that your “real” job was to keep his house clean, to make his dinners, and to make sure the laundry was done every day. Never mind the fact that you worked longer hours, or that he rarely ate the food you cooked, because he had eaten in the pub, or gone for lunch with workmates, and wasn’t hungry. And maybe, once upon a time, you would have enjoyed playing housewife for him… But that was a long time ago, when he seemed to appreciate all you did for him, and to respond with kindness, with love, with gratitude. Now, there was no gratitude, no kindness, and more and more, you were sure, no love.

You had cried on the way to work. For a long time you had become numb to the misery in your marriage, and resigned yourself to it. Recently though it had begun to hurt again, as you began to realise that not everyone’s life was like this, and that maybe, just maybe, yours shouldn’t be either. Perhaps it was the promotion that had done it, with the realisation that actually, with the money you earned now, you could manage a fairly comfortable life even without your husband’s income. That’s what you told yourself it was, anyway. Deep down, you knew there was something else. It wasn’t about the money - though of course financial freedom and stability were important - it was Colonel König.

You wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. But the handsome Colonel had awakened something long forgotten in you; desire. You desired him, and more than that, you wanted to be desired by him. It had been years since your husband had so much as looked at you with lust in his eyes, let alone touched you, and sometimes, when you caught the Colonel’s eyes on you, there was a brief flicker of something that reminded you of being wanted. You were probably just imagining it, so touch-starved and craving attention that you projected your own feelings onto the hulking giant of a man, who had never been anything but professional with you. Maybe if you spent less time fantasising about him wanting you, you would understand the reality of the situation; he didn’t want you. Nobody did. It was just wishful thinking.

And so, you had dried your tears while you sat in the car outside work, and fixed your running mascara, and told yourself you were being stupid. Your life was fine; you had a decent house, enough money to have a comfortable existence, and a great job. You had a husband, and although things weren’t great between you, maybe that was all you deserved. This was probably your own fault, dreaming up stupid fairytale scenarios in which Colonel König was the handsome prince rescuing you from the misery of your real life… Of course you were miserable, because you were being so unrealistic. You sniffed, shook your head as if trying to physically remove such idiotic thoughts from your mind, and headed in to the office.

On your desk there was a stack of files, always more to do, no matter how hard you worked. You didn’t mind, of course, this was what you were paid for after all, and it made you feel a real sense of achievement every time you reached the bottom of a stack, even if it was immediately replaced by another. You pulled down the first one, opened it up, and filled in what needed filling; it only took a minute, but you couldn’t complete this one without the Colonel’s signature. You glanced up at his office, and saw the door was open, as it always is these days. König was sat at his desk, looking at his computer screen. For a moment your eyes lingered on him, caressing his broad shoulders, his broken nose, and scarred jaw. You sighed, a soft little sound, gathered both the file and your courage, and walked over to his office.

Once inside, König smiled up at you, before his expression changed, and he sprang from his seat. He crossed the room to you in a single stride, and surveyed your bloodshot eyes with concern, his own blue eyes narrowing as he examined you. He wasn’t stupid, and even with the mascara cleaned from your cheeks, it was obvious to him that you had been crying; how could he not notice, when he spent so much time every day surreptitiously looking at your pretty face? It enraged him to see the evidence of your tears, acid rising in his stomach and his fists clenching. He wanted to shout, to scream, to find who had upset you, and to destroy them; but that wouldn’t be professional, would it? And so he squashed down the hatred swirling inside him, and settled instead for simply laying a massive hand on your shoulder, and grunting out a question that he knew the answer to already. He held his hand there a moment, and resisted the urge to cup your soft cheek in his calloused palm.

“Everything okay?” His eyes were glued to yours, staring into you, as if trying to see into your mind, and past whatever excuse you were going to come up with. You shrugged, your eyes dropping from König’s face, holding the file close to your chest as if using it to hide from him, and looking down at your feet instead. His hand moved from your shoulder, a couple of thick fingers gently placed under your chin, and tilted your face back up to look at him. König’s expression was a frown of concern, bordering on desperation, as he refused to drop the question. You felt your cheeks heating, the warmth seeming to spread from where his fingertips lay under your chin, through your whole face, even to your ears.

You knew, in that moment, König would not let this go without some explanation, you could see it in his eyes, and realised with shock that maybe you hadn’t imagined that look of desire before; he cares about you. For a moment you considered telling him the truth; you’re miserable, you hate your life, your marriage is a sham, and all you want is a man like him to treat you the way you deserve. What would be the point, though? You would look weak, pathetic, and you’d only be embarrassing yourself in front of your superior. Not just your superior, either, a man you actively wanted to see you as more than what you were; no man would desire a snivelling crybaby, whining about her life. You settled for something close to the truth, though without too much detail.

“Just… had a disagreement with my husband this morning. Stupid stuff. It’s nothing.” The taste of the words in your mouth were bitter, and you wished you didn’t have to say them, especially “my husband.” You hated having to claim him, having to admit that he even existed, when he barely seemed to notice that you do. König saw the shame in your face, though you were trying to mask it with a look of nonchalance, shrugging off your sadness with a weak attempt at a smile. The words remind him, though, that you cannot be his, no matter how much he wants you, and his fingers dropped from beneath your chin, as if burned.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered sadly, then tried to lighten the mood with what sounds like a joke, though it’s anything but. “Want me to go and remind him of his manners?” He huffed a laugh, but there was something in his eyes again, almost burning, despite the icy colour of his irises, that made you wonder if he meant it. “No need,” you smiled with a little huff that was the ghost of a laugh of your own. “It’s not important.” It sounded like you meant the disagreement, but really, it’s your husband that wasn’t important. When König was stood in front of you, your husband was nothing. “The offer is always there, you just have to ask.” König smiled again, a sad little smile, before stepping back from you, and directing his attention to the file in your hand. Still with heated cheeks, you handed it over, waited while he signed it, and with a soft smile of your own, returned to work.

When you had left König’s office, and returned to your own desk, he sat staring at his screen for a long time, his mind turning the same thought over and over. He would never want to see you hurt, to see you cry… but in some sick little way, knowing that your husband had made you unhappy felt like a victory. A little crack in the foundations of your marriage, that offered him the tiniest light of hope. If you were his wife, you would never cry again… except maybe with joy, or perhaps, if he could just get the chance, he could bring you to tears with pleasure. His eyes flicked up from the screen, to look over at you at your desk. König grinned when he saw you, holding a pen up to your lips in thought, and staring not at your screen, or down at your paperwork, but across the room and into his office, at him. He grinned even more when you seemed to almost jump in surprise when he caught you staring, and quickly looked down at the file open on your desk.

More than once that day, each of you caught the other’s eye. At first you were embarrassed, and tried to pretend you hadn’t seen him staring, or been caught staring yourself. After the third time though, you stopped being ashamed, and started to find it funny. From that time on, whenever either of you caught one another’s glance, you smiled, you even giggled, and König smiled too, at one point winking cheekily with a grin. It was silly, just his way of trying to cheer you up, you were sure… It didn’t mean anything more. It certainly brightened your work day, and it seemed far too short a time before it was time to leave for the night. When you left, König was still in his office, and you gave him a little wave as you finished packing up. “Offer still stands!” He called from the office, with another wink. You left grinning.

When you went home that night, you didn’t even care that your husband was in the pub again. In fact, you were quite glad of it. You spent much of your evening replaying the silly smiles, the glances, the wink, and especially the moment König’s fingers lingered beneath your chin as he stared down into your eyes. By the time your husband stumbled in later that evening, you were already curled up fast asleep, dreaming of being in your handsome, kind Colonel’s arms.

#konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig fanfiction #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig fluff #könig #konig #könig x you #konig x you

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konigsrose · 2 months

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As it was promised, so shall it be!

Un proofread and a little rushed, sorry!

#König’s rose #konig call of duty #konig x oc #konig cod #konig #konig fanfiction #könig #könig fluff #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction

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konigsrose · 2 months

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I promise you all and myself that I’ll update König’s Rose before I get on that plane

PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE

I’m about 200 words from finishing the chapter of the König fic I swore I would do before holiday but I really have to go to bed… writing and posting in the airport bathroom tomorrow? Seems like me

#konig call of duty #konig x oc #König’s Rose #konig fanfiction #könig fluff #könig call of duty #könig #konig

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konigsrose · 2 months

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König x unhappily married reader PART 1/5

(AO3 Link)

(I said I’d post this next week but I’m super hungover and need to feel I’ve achieved something other than puke this morning… so here it is a day early, because I’m a filthy little liar.) 18+ MDNI!!! (Naughtiness beneath the cut)

You had been working at KorTac for years, but your recent promotion meant far more interaction with higher-ups in the company. You’re good at dealing with people, at least professionally, so this never worried you… until you realised just how much time you’d be working with a certain infamous Colonel. Colonel König was so many things: a giant of a man, yes; terrifying and aggressive at times too; a ridiculously hard-worker who didn’t like to see anyone shirking their duty… but something about him attracted you, even when it seemed to turn all others away from him. In the field he had always worn a mask, and you were glad that now he split his time between training recruits and desk work he spent more time out of that mask; he was surprisingly handsome, for one who covered his face so often. His nose may have been broken too many times to fix, and he may have been covered in scars from head to toe, but his icy blue eyes, strong jawline, and most obviously his huge, muscular frame were all incredibly attractive to you. The contrast with your husband was all too obvious, König was everything your husband wasn’t. König was, in all senses, a strong man.

Perhaps that was why you found yourself unconsciously going to König’s office a little too often. Of course, you always took some paperwork, some procedural question, found some excuse - you weren’t stupid enough to go in there on a social call, and waste the Colonel’s precious time - but you probably didn’t need to go to him every time you did. You didn’t need to linger at the edge of his desk, standing close to his chair, as he showed you on his screen whatever it was you had asked about. You never touched him, or said or did anything that could be construed as inappropriate; you were the height of professionalism. You just enjoyed being near König, near enough to smell the scent of him - tar soap, clean and almost clinical, with a hint of something almost spice-like, perhaps a cologne? He didn’t seem like a cologne kind of guy though, so maybe it was just his deodorant? Either way, that scent became a part of him, a part of your fantasy of König… you would smell it when he walked by you, or surreptitiously enjoy it when you stood at his shoulder behind his desk.

You would never tell anyone the thoughts you had about König in the dark of night, when your husband had fallen asleep in front of the TV, and you lay alone in bed. How you’d dream of that scent enveloping you as you kissed your way down König’s neck, or even left a bite mark on his huge chest… The thoughts had even begun invading your days, unable to be contained and restricted to the lonely nights. Sometimes when you stood at his desk you imagined it, how you could slip behind the desk, straddle those vast thighs, and grind in König’s lap until he needed more from you. Maybe he would snap, and have you splayed out on top of those open files of paperwork, looming above you, taking whatever he wanted from you. It was only when you became so lost in the fantasy that König had to repeat his instructions that you managed to drag your mind back to reality with an earnest apology for your distraction. You listened to the instructions the second time around, and returned to your desk desperately trying to ignore the wetness between your thighs, determined to make König proud of your work, at least, since you couldn’t possibly make your fantasies a reality.

You had no idea that König, the silent, stoic colonel, all business and manly agression, was having similar thoughts about you. When you’d first been promoted to his team, he had hoped you would be a useful asset, no more thought in his head about you than that… and then he had actually met you. It was your eyes, that was what had done it. That first day, as you stood in front of him, so much smaller than he was, gazing up as he shook your hand in welcome… the way those pretty eyes had widened, your pupils all wide, making your eyes dark and sparkling. He had wanted to drop to his knees that very moment and beg for you to be his… and then he had seen the thin silver bands on your finger, the tiny little diamond in one of them… and all those dreams he had begun the moment he’d looked into your eyes had come crashing down.

He tried to resist it, but unwillingly, his eyes kept flickering towards you whenever they could. König used to keep his office door closed, not wanting to be disturbed while he worked. He had realised though that if the door remains open, and he angled his chair just right, he had the perfect view of you at your desk. Of course, now that he knows you’re married, König wouldn’t dream of trying anything… but he could still look, couldn’t he? He watched with greedy eyes as you walk across the room to another woman’s desk - König couldn’t quite remember her name, now, and probably never would - especially when you laid your forearms on her desk to speak quietly, bending over, and giving him a view of your perfect curves presented for him. Unbidden, the image of you similarly bent over a desk filled his head; his desk this time, and preferably with that tight skirt you’re wearing pushed up around your waist… the door would definitely be shut, but that wouldn’t be enough to muffle the moans of pleasure he’d draw out of you, while he fucks you over the wooden surface. He can almost see the scratch marks from your nails in the desktop.

König cleared his throat, shook the filthy images from his head, and tried to ignore the sudden tightness in his clothing beneath the desk. He opened a file on his computer, and did his best to focus on the words on the screen, rather than the pornographic movie that refused to stop playing in his mind. His gaze flickered back to you briefly as you stood up from your colleague’s desk, flipping your hair back over your shoulder as you straighten up. Sheiße! What he wouldn’t give to have his hand tangled in that hair, dragging your head back to expose your pretty little throat for his lips, his teeth. He would love to mark you with bites and bruises, soft skin that declared all over that you belonged to him… but you didn’t belong to him, did you? And you never could. This was a passing fantasy, an infatuation, just a result of sexual frustration; he couldn’t remember the last time he had fucked so much as his own fist, let alone an actual woman. Fists clenched on the desktop, König drove those filthy thoughts of you from his head, and returned to his work.

You would never cheat on your husband, no matter how neglected you might be by him, and no matter how attractive your colonel is. König would never touch another man’s wife; there is honour among assassins, of a kind, and he’s not about to sully that. Perhaps, if you ignore the feelings bubbling within you both, eventually these silly crushes will fizzle and fade… Until then, you’ll have to keep your dirty little fantasies to yourselves, won’t you?

#konig call of duty #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x reader #unhappily married

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