#konig x black!reader

[c-nstantine]

The way I would let König, Ghost, Soap and Gaz turn me into a barracks bunny is just so depraved. Like I would let König turn me into a Debbie Cake ™️ while he's talking to the other guys. 😫

@prettyvintageafternoon

listen, i'd let him break my back like a glowstick. Y'all remember when Bill Clinton allegedly got head while addressing the nation, I think that would be Konig lowkey. He's not faltering at all.

[shelbybyr]

When you run out of fics to read

[lxvvie]

Y'all know that whole trend that was going around social media with women calling their significant other by their full name? Yeah, that one. Yet another conversation was had, this time it was about the reactions your favorite babygurls would have if you called them by their full government name because of reasons. Maybe.

Capt. John Price - He's, uh, startled but not enough to drop his cigar this time. Does take a puff of it, though, before addressing you like it's the calm before the storm. Isn't too fazed because he heard it enough from his own mom growing up and he figures he's suave and diplomatic enough to placate you.

Gaz - Pointedly ignores you while giving you side glances here and there which is a major indicator that he's gotten into some shit. Probably. More than likely. Yeah... it was Soap's fault.

Alex Keller - Actually did get into some shit. Does not answer the call of duty.

Soap - You hear 'ah, shit', heavy footsteps, probably a crash, and Soap's peeking his head out from the other room. Has a deer-in-headlights look about him. It was Gaz's fault, goddamnit. He's so adorable. It's enough to make you giggle.

Ghost - You get a grunt. And then it hits him. He stops doing whatever it is he's doing. Fuck, he knows that tone. Simon turns to look at you and he stares into your soul or something like that. What in the hell kind of made-up middle name is that? You spend the better part of a good minute staring each other down before you're all, "I love you ♥️," and Ghost groans and rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. But not before he grunts out a "Love ya, too." in return.

Alejandro - This is one of the few things that'll actually faze the man. Will damn near break his neck turning to face you to see what's wrong and his eyes will be wide. Oh, the last time he heard his full name called like that was from his beloved grandmother and he'd gotten into some shit then, okay?

Rudy - Ducks his head. Doesn't show his face; he can't bear the sternness of your voice, your gaze. It wasn't him this time, he swears; it remains, though, the way you say his name, an echo in his mind: Ro-DOL-fo. Why'd you have the emphasize THAT part of his name, huh?

König - König.exe stops working. Actually does break something trying to get to you. His eyes are fucking saucers, okay? Oh shit, what did he do this time, Schatz? Are you getting him back after that one time he snuck up on you to surprise you and you dropped dinner? Did you find out about the time he accidentally messed up the laundry and the white clothes came out pink? WHAT DOES HE HAVE TO DO FIX THIS?! Oh, you... just needed him to grab something off the top shelf for you.

Horangi - Also did some shit. Is unapologetic about it. Hits you with a nonchalant, "Yeah?"

Graves - STAYS IN SOME SHIT, OKAY? Saunters in like the smug bastard he is. Smirks and winks at you. "Haven't heard that name in a while, darlin'. What's your fancy?"

Valeria - Pulls a Uno Reverse and calls you by your full government name. Wait―

[merakidoll]

könig has found himself busy for the last few days. when you’re sleeping in the dead of night, his large body would sneak into the bed just to close his eyes for a few minutes and hold you. while sleeping you could feel his cool lips kiss your forehead whispering how good you have been for him. his large shirt clinging to your body while he pushed you into his chest more, savoring this.

yet, when the morning came he was gone. only leaving a single rose, and note with his card for you. you knew he felt bad, terrible, but work needed him and you would never make him feel bad about that. but this night, the hornyness was too much.

your cunt throbbing, ruining every last pair of underwear you put on. you were becoming frustrated from all the laundry and just the need to feel relief. you debated with yourself until you could no longer take it. laying your naked body against the cold sheets and calling him. “hello?” his deep voice answered, stress laced in the husky vocals.

“d-.. daddy ?” you hadn’t meant for your words to come out in a whisper, but you didn’t feel like doing much talking - and luckily könig understood. “you naked doll?” humming into the speaker you began to spread your things, your hands slowing running down your body, tweaking a brown nipple on its way dot that made you gasp. chuckling he leaned back into his own seat starting at the wall practically imagining how you looked for him.

“touch her.” his command was simple, stern. he couldn’t see- but boy could he hear how a single touch had you cumming. tho- knowing you, he knew you wouldn’t allow yourself, spreading the fat lips of your pussy air blowed onto your slimy clit. your finger rubbed against your bud moaning at how sensitive it was.

with so little touch your leges shook, wetness dripping out of your hole and onto the sheets, fingers began to ache as your spread up your pace quicker. könig didn’t talk, he just listened. listened to how you mumbled to yourself how good of a slut you were for him, how you were gonna cum so much for you daddy. and while he listened he got himself ready to leave, getting into the car, starting it, and driving to you so he could be the fixer of this situation. after all he was your daddy right?

and so in dazed with need to cum but holding yourself back. your fingers fucked into your hole, wet sounds echoing out into the room, phone still by your ear but you were so far from listening. könig started from the door way, leaning against it and unbuckling his belt waiting for you to notice him. for you to beg for his help.

but he underestimated you, watching you not stop until your squirted with a whimpery “ohhh y-yessss” that was so slutty it made pre cum ooze out of him. you took heavy breaths, closing your eyes still forgetting about the call, and once your realized - jumped up, eyes grew wide and pussy pulsating right on command at the sight of his sexy smirk.

“hi princess”

[backwzzds]

can we talk about how konig would be someone who’s quiet when he gets jealous…then when y’all get home he js absolutely goes HAMMMM….

the way i got so excited to write this…it’s actually way longer than i intended but idgaf! part 2 soon 😏

NO BC YOU LITERALLY WOULDNT GET HOW HE’D BE SO QUIET LIKE ???

“papa, i don’t understand what i did wrong,” you’d frown at your man with an annoyed whine. könig, who was a whooping 6’10 would only give you a heavy grunt in response. you’d be on the way back to his car from the mall, dozens of your victoria’s secret and H&M bags held in his visibly large hand. the moment könig reached before you (with help of his tree-like long legs anyway), he opened the door for you, the balaclava on his face making his features ten times harder.

no matter how mad the big bear was at you—or more so, what you happened to get yourself involved in—he’d never disrespect you. anything other than sexually, at least. stepping on the custom made step for your smaller figure, you slide into the huge seat of his completely blacked out bmw suv, allowing him to shut the door behind you. you nearly jump at the visible shake of the car beneath your bottom.

you play with your curls as könig carefully sets your bags on the floor behind your seat. because his was set all the way back to accommodate for his long legs, your seat had the better amount of space for your things. when könig finally got back in the car, he immediately started it, causing the monsterous growl of his deleted muffler to come alive.

and he wouldn’t even break a sweat at you !!! you’re over here going over all your actions for the day, step by step, and all könig could think through his mind was what positions he was gonna force you in when you two got back home.

the sound of könig’s car matched the energy that was coursing through his veins. he know you didn’t do anything wrong; not intentionally at least. but the selfish ass part of him wanted nothing more than for your pretty little ass to sit in the passenger’s seat, overthinking on what the fuck you possibly could have done to rile him up this much.

the ride home is everlastingly silent as the small of your voice breaks the thick tension, “baby,” you don’t know how to further articulate your words. “i know you’re mad at me. i wanna fix it, but i can’t it you won’t talk to me. and you’ve been dead ass silent since we been in the mall.”

könig keeps his cool, though. he knew his silence was practically eating at you alive, shaming you with guilt for something you didn’t even intentionally mean to do. but with the way your pretty body sits in the black skims dress you’re in, accompanied by your black and white dunks—his eyes could practically frame your nipples right through the see through fabric, and he was sure that fucking doorman at victoria’s secret could have as well.

you keep talking. “was it the dude at VS? i swear, i made it very known that you were my man and—“ your words are endless blabber to him as the disgusting and pervasive thoughts cloud könig’s mind.

he looks so sexy in his balaclava, protecting his face from the harsh upcoming winter temperatures. he’s sported in an all black outfit, helplessly matching yours. anyone who saw you two together would automatically know that was your man. i mean duh, he walks around with his hand on your ass protectively 99% of the time.

when you get the sense that the brute isn’t listening to a fucking word you’re saying, you let out a frustrated sigh and turn your body away from him. but the sudden placement of a large hand on your knee takes you by surprise as you eye the man who’s ice blue eyes refuse to falter from the darkening road before you.

the moment könig pulls up in the driveway of your shared home, you can’t help but twiddle with the polish on your acrylics. anxiousness is bouncing off you, and könig could tell. you turn your head and open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off for the first time that night.

“go inside.” könig’s voice is very low, but you don’t miss the command in it. there’s no emotion behind the dark eyes of his balaclava. usually you could decipher exactly what and how he was feeling, but in the moment—

“kö—“ your boyfriend’s snow blue eyes harden at your talk back. with softer features, you whisper, “will you be inside?”

“soon. need to make a call first,” you watch him pull out a fresh cigar pack. “be ready for me when i get in.” you open your mouth to talk back again, but wire it shut when könig lovingly grabs your face. leaning in so the pink of his lips ghost over your full brown ones, he whispers, “now, mama. i won’t ask again. can you listen to that one thing for me?”

with a small gulp, you give him pretty doe eyes, feeling between your legs tingle at his masculinity radiating onto you. in the most confident voice you could muster up, you nod your pretty head at him. “yes daddy.”

könig gives you a nod of approval and runs his hand along the curve of your ass. “good girl. go on, liebling.”

you exit the huge car, already getting idea of what was to come when könig came back inside. with a heavy heart, you head upstairs to your room and slowly begin undressing, hoping that the slower you went, the more your punishment would be delayed.

your hopes were proven to be false the minute you were completely naked and turned around to see könig leaning against the threshold of the door, silently watching you.

you jump in fear at the sudden sight in front of you, but feel your heart beat calm down when könig strolled over to you. naturally, your head tilted backward as a way to get a full view of his face. his balaclava remained on, so you knew he was still upset about the events from earlier.

könig takes his large hand and rests it on your cheek, giving it a comforting rub. “you know i love you and respect you more than anything on this earth, right?” the brown of your skin instantly heat up at his words as you slowly nod your head at his sudden expression, unsure of where he was going with his words. könig’s lips can’t help but lightly turn upward into a small smile. you had no idea what was gonna come.

“good. because for today, libeling, i’m gonna fuck you like you mean absolutely nothing to me.”

[gladiolusluvr]

Me when I’m reading a good fanfic and the author writes “my knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets"

After I read that I can not bring myself to read it anymore 😭

[kechiwrites]

gentle touch

könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)

synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.

wc: 2.8k

cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.

author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.

He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.

You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.

"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.

"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.

“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.

He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.

Cute.

“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”

“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”

Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.

“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”

You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.

When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.

When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.

“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.

His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.

He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.

The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.

By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause. 

No.

It couldn’t be.

The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. König?”

He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.

“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.

You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.

He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.

“Still good?”

His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.

“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.

Still got 45 minutes left, after all.

You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.

Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.

“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.

You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.

König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.

“Please.”

And that’s all you need.

He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.

God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.

König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.

You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.

“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.

“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.

But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.

The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.

“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.

When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,

“So...I’ll see you next week?”

hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.

support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[littlemochabunni]

Der Riese und sein Häschen.

The Giant and His Bunny.

Konig x afab reader 18+ mdni

Content: drabble of just absolute pure filth.

a/n: I plea the fifth to any questions comments and concern I am just as shookth.

Content banner: cafekitsune

König’s massive size alone is enough to have your toes curling and your thighs trembling. Oh and the way him manhandles you like you’re a little doll in your fucked out state is absolutely lethal.

Pinning you up against the wall with your legs pressed against his chest and his thick cock bottoms you out as if you cunt sucked he up in one go. “Sorry Häschen [Bunny], your little pussy is just so soaked I slipped~.” His animalistic pace says otherwise, and your incoherent cock-drunk and screams of pure pleasure still isn’t enough for him to know just how good you feel on his cock. He needs to hear some praise, something to let him know that he hasn’t completely fucked you out of all of your senses.

“Häschen [Bunny], you like that hm? You need more Liebling?” He gently grabs hold of your jaw and neck to make you focus on him while his pace grows slower and sensual enough to grab your attention. “C-cum! gonna—onna c-cum! Ahh~ ah ah K-König~”

König pulls out and pinches your clit depriving you of that mind shattering orgasm you were oh so close to having. “I ask you a question Häschen [Bunny]. Those ears of your’s stop workin’ hm?” You pant heavily with frustration, your ears twitch up desperately whilst your clit does the same under his fingers, “sorry ‘m sorry König! I need it plea— please König it’s so fucking good! I wan— I need it pleeeease~” you look up at him with tears of desperation form in your eyes as you can’t help but rut your hips in need of his thick cock deep inside you again. Behind his hood he’s smirking at your desperate attempts while gripping his hand tighter on your ass to keep you still, “Be a good girl and keep still. You don’t me me accidentally slipping into your ass, nein[no]?” The thought did excite you, but knowing what happened the last time he “accidentally slipped in” the wrong hole is what made you stop your movements.

König chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he slides his slick coated cock back inside your swollen cunt. The feeling of your walls welcoming him causes him to moan and the sound of your choked gasps when he bottoms you out turned his moans into a deep growl, bringing the animal inside him back out and the need for your screams and tears.

He pushes you flushed against the wall as he fucks you at a brutal pace, making you claw at his chest, broken screams fall from your lips, and your once denied orgasm is fast approaching. “F-Fuuuck König! It’s too biiiig! Wa-wait wa— oooh fuck I’m gon— Köniiiiig pl-pleeease~ right there right there!” König feels your cunts juices dripping down his thick cock onto the floor, and your pleas are just what he needs to drive his cock deeper in— bullying your poor cervix and hitting all your sweet spots simultaneously. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Take it~ Take it my kleine Hasenschlampe [Little bunny slut]” König’s words causes you to tremble violently as your orgasm gushes out, and his pace flusters as his own orgasm is triggered by your pulsating cunt squirting around his cock. “Mmm Liebling [Darling] you have to do that again for me. You’re a good girl, Nein?

[klipkillakai]

a little peak into connie and readers life ( ☆ )

[keenzinemugstudent]

Imagine Konig finds out you gave birth to triplets.

This poor man is on his knees hugging your waist and legs hiding his face in your stomach, you're gently rubbing his back trying to calm him down while Ghost, Soap and Price are starring down at the three sleeping babies.

Y/n: Darling please calm down.

Konig: I'm so sorry!

Y/n: Seriously it's fine so will you please get off the floor!

Konig: I'm a terrible person! Es tut mir so leid, meine Liebe! ( I'm so sorry my love!)

Y/n: It's not as bad as you make it, I swear it was quick and easy! See I'm fine and so are the babies so please stop crying sweetheart!

Yeah this man is not hearing you at all all he knows is that you were alone and you gave birth to three of his children, yes you both wanted kids, yes he knew you were pregnant but triplets?! Who would have thought?

Soap: I still can't believe Konig is a dad?!

Price: They are cute, I just can't believe I'm a grandpa.

Ghost: Poor Y/n gonna have their hands full dealing with four babies

Soap: Four? I know you're old but your not blind at least not yet.

Ghost: *points at a crying Konig* Four

Soap: Oh... Now hold on a minute that's just mean!

Ghost: Just being honest

Konig: Danke, dass du mir drei wunderschöne Babys geschenkt hast, meine Liebe! Ich verdiene dich nicht! (Thank you for giving me three beautiful babies my love! I do not deserve you!)

Y/n: I love you too but please stop crying! And get off the floor already!

(nothing tells me I got that translation wrong so I'm going to have to look it up again 😭)

[cookiepie111]

König and his weak af pull out game. No minors

This is for milf darling. König x black reader This was supposed to be a small piece, I enjoyed writing this too much. Aftermath here

But königs pull out game is weak af, tells you not to worry when you express your concern about not wanting any.... 'surprises', but that's exactly what he wants with you.

He says he can just pull out, but it was over the moment he was inside you. not on purpose. He just hasn't been with anyone for a year before he came home and met you.

So lost in the softness of your walls, the sight of where the two of join, wet sounds filling the room, the experience he's been deprived of for so long it overwhelms him. So close, wanting to sink deeper into you, and he does, shaking above you, releasing all of him out with it, in a long groan. He hopes you didn't notice but you do, of course you do it's hard not to notice when he stays there for so long, no sign of his thick cum stopping, filling you up. You cringe at the feeling, warm and so much of it too, dripping onto the bed now.

Cue, the two of you say quietly in his car on the way to the pharmacy to get the pill. He doesn't think he's seen you angry, at least not at him. You tell him shut up faster than whatever shity joke he has to lighten the mood comes out.

[xiamentshoneypot]

I saw your “I’m - Ofcourse” TikTok trend with Simon, can you do one for Soap or König????

1.

Of course anything for my loved anon p.s sorry it took so long work was whipping my ass

Anywho

Not proof read beware

Pure fluff

KONIGS VERSION “I’m- Of course”

“My Boyfriends nickname is-”

“Husband, Liebling” the large masked man interrupted.

The camera cuts to her face glowing in the warm sunlight and the bottom of the masked draped on his face, showing a dark blotch instead.

“You have you let me get it out first”

“I know but you didn’t start properly”

The camera pans downwards to the vibrant beauty

“His nickname is Kilgore of course he’s squeamish to movie gore.” The camera again cut to the blotch

An ironically low rough voice sounds out

“She’s my wife and my wife only” the serious Austrian man deadpanned

The camera cuts again to the sky

“No you have to follow the trend”

“I was just making sure they know we’re married”

“No we aren’t”

“We can be”

The camera cuts again back to her

“He spoils me of course I don’t know what the word no means”

Back to the you guessed it …… the blotch

“She’s mine forever of course I’ll fight you to the death for her”

“It isn’t the 13th century”

And she’s immediately cut off

“So?”

Take 2

“My boyfriend is over 6’7 of course we had to have the door frames raised in our house.” The much shorter beauty grinned.

“Meine Frau ist Amerikanerin, natürlich schlachtet sie Deutsch, wenn sie mich wiederholt oder verspottet”.

“Huh”

The camera pans up again, to high up so you can only see the top of her head.

“Kö you’re going to high again lower it a little please.”

He looks down at the tiny phone in his huge hands the phone is a little above his waist line.

“Honey, that’s the lowest I can do without crouching”

The camera pans down again this time her head in frame.

“My boyfriend is-“

“Husband”

“we’re not starting this again”

[wxnheart]

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 (𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 E𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

part one

Say my name I promise I'll love you if you do it So do it for me

Chaos doesn't always have to be bad, you know.

Take for instance the bed. After some good sex. The bed that'll be a fucking mess.

Pillows everywhere (you swear you have more pillows than you do blankets; thank the Pillow Princess for that), covers thrown haphazardly, and you'll be there, sweaty and sated, resting in a pile of muscled arms, legs, and chest.

You usually don't know who the hell you're laying on you're so fucked out but damn their chest feels good.

Heh. You thought your libido was high but König and Simon got you beat there, too. By miles. Holy fucking shit. You and König also joke that Simon's the slut of the three of you. The bastard doesn't deny it, either.

As much as Simon and König love you, best believe there's always a competition between the two men when it comes to you sexually.

You'll also find out that the winner of their sparring matches is also the one who gets to fuck you first.

Those hands of König's aren't just good with a knife. He can make you come with those fingers alone.

He's also the one who loves to go down on you (this isn't to say that Simon doesn't). Will feast on you forever if you let him. Will also encourage (read: command) you to fuck his mouth or ride his face.

Dirty talk — Simon is a fucking pro. While König's showing you what his mouth does, Ghost is practically growling in your ear and telling you everything they'll do to you. Everything.

They can and will subject you to some orgasm denial if you wanna fuck around and find out, too.

And oh baby, when you get down on your knees and return the favor... it takes everything in them not to bust right then and there.

König goes crazy when you suck the head of his dick. Simon has this one vein on the underside of his. That's his weak spot. Have fun.

König loves it when you run your nails down his back while he's fucking you. Loves to see those marks in the mirror.

You also found that one spot on Simon's shoulder that if you bite down on it, the fucker goes crazy.

He loves covering you in hickeys, too.

König is the gentle but firm kisser. Simon is the passionate, tongue-fuck, bite-your-lip-and-leave-a-mark kisser. So bite his lower lip and leave a mark, goddamnit.

One time they were away and you were so fucking horny, you called them up. They heard you, heard your pleas as you touched yourself, as you told them you missed their hands, their mouths, and their dicks. You told them that you needed them to come home and fill you up. You moaned so wantonly and practically screamed when you came. They were dead silent the entire time.

König was so damn flustered and hard and frozen like a goddamn statue. Ghost was fucking seething. He was so fucking pissed. He was so fucking aroused. Why the fuck would you do that, knowing he wants nothing more than to be home, fucking you into the mattress, fucking your face, or god knows what else. Refused to rub one out and most definitely saved that for when he got home.

Simon and König also got you back once by calling you and making you masturbate for them. And god, you can never forget the way they sounded, authoritative, their accents heavy and thick with desire as they fucking ordered you to touch yourself and moan for them. Yeah, that's it. Moan for them, baby. Cum for them...

Oh, yeah, back to competition. One time König was away and Simon was home and you spent the better part of the day teasing him. He told you in so many words to fuck around and find out. You found out alright. Goddamn, did you find out.

He made you ride him. He made you ride him and like fuck were you stopping anytime soon. König called, Simon made you answer the phone (on speaker no less) and made you say his name ("Say it, love. Tell him who's making you fucking scream."). Oh shit. Silence on the other end. Again. Oh fuck, you knew it was on when König got home.

...And when you're busy catching your breath, sweaty and sated, wrapped in muscled arms, after some good ass sex—"Ready for another round?" What? You look up and two pairs of eyes stare back, clouded with feral want, and oh fuck—

[lxvvie]

A relationship with König would consist of the following:

Your first date being the embodiment of 'shit happens'.

Spontaneity driving your later date nights because every time König planned one, shit continued to happen.

König refusing to tell you his middle name (after you found out that he had one) no matter how many times you beg, plead, and give him puppy dog eyes because he's embarrassed by it.

Marveling at how König can be so big and tall and somehow make himself seem so small when he's sitting sometimes. He also doesn't mind some cramped spaces, either.

König resting his head on your lap because it is calming and he tends to suffer from tension headaches. You rubbing his head also helps quite a lot.

König being in a state of constant mortification while you're damn near dying you're wheezing so hard because of his sense of humor.

Piggybacking off the last point, it's endearing because it's either offbeat or poorly timed. It also doesn't help (or rather, it does) that he's a bit of a late bloomer when it comes to getting hip to memes, the latest slang, etc. There was that one time with the eggplant emoji...

Never failing to laugh when he laughs... because of his laugh. König has the gremlin cackle thing going on and it is hilarious.

Testing König's inner koala as he sleeps. Turns out that if you put just about anything near him, he'll automatically hug it close to him. You tried it with a pillow.

Using his height to your advantage. You tend to use him as your personal crowd parter person thingie, especially when you're grocery shopping or just... out in public in general. Or using him when you need to get that one item that's all the way on the top shelf at the very fucking back.

Standing on his feet so you can get some height to try and kiss him. Konig thinks it's cute and funny, so cute and funny in fact that he sometimes will not bend his head down just so he can see you pout and whine about how he's "not being fair".

Giving him a compliment and watching König.exe stop working because of reasons. Reasons that involve feelings.

You having to avoid wearing some of König's shirts also because of reasons.

Watching the shenanigans of Drunk König. The most common theme is Drunk König thinking the closest thing near him is you and so he's practically talking to his Schatz and wondering why you're not answering or something like that.

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠?

pairing(s); konig x fem!reader, deadbeat!konig x daughter

summary; After a year Konig tries to waltz back into your life flipping it upside down while you tried to keep your daughter right side up —angstober day; 16–

word count; 1.0k

warning(s); arguing, Konigs real name in this is Midas, crying, black coded reader, self berating thoughts, your daughter is around 2-4 months, and language

playlist; dealer by lana del rey

A/n:—GIFs;@villageofshadow & @romeestrvjds—

Whoever said that being a parent was simple lied to your face you realized as you weaned your daughter off your nipple resting her small body over your shoulder her face lying in your neck as you gently shuffled between patting her back and rubbing your palm in a up and down motion until you heard the soft burp erupt from her mouth you pressed a soft kiss on the soft skin of her forehead before lying her in the bedside bassinet you’d got as a gift from your baby shower

It was difficult being a parent in general let alone a single parent with no support from the other party bills were racking up and you were grateful for a retired neighbor who was able to watch your and a semi understanding boss at a temporary job to keep your lives dragging rolling along you stepped into your bathroom connected off your room taking a bit of time to care for yourself that you hadn’t usually had in the past few months as the steam around the bathroom stuck to your skin while you stared at your form in the mirror running hands along your hips and lower stomach that still had a bit of flub to them from baring the life of your daughter

You stalked back to your room your throwing on a random T-shirt that you didn’t realize the impact of it until it was situated on your body falling to your knees the musk clouding over your nose sending your senses haywire at the familiar feeling that you couldn’t say was pleasant you snatch it off your head before throwing it across the room running a hand over your forehead and slightly damp curls

The last time you heard from Konig was when he’d met you at the hospital from your sudden sickness just to find out you were pregnant when you cracked the news to him he swore you would make it work and after a while he said he was going back home to bring you some things when you were released from the hospital a few days later you came home to find majority of his belongings gone and his truck no longer parked on the driveway

If only you would’ve sprung it on him more gently

if only you could go back and remember that damn pill

You perked up at the sound of heavy knocking on your front door your eyebrows furrow and for a brief moment you glance over to your firstborn hurrying to throw on shorts and a army green tank grabbing the hand gun you kept in your nightstand purified water bottle, your breast pump, and a small lamp setting on top of its surface training in SAS didn’t allow your brain to not be prepared for anything especially pounding on your door at god knows what unfaithful hour you inch out of your room inching towards the living space the door staring back at you as the pounding continued and you were spaced out until you felt your hand on the doorknob swinging the door open your hand secure around the forearm your finger a split second away from the trigger meeting its wall until you locked eyes with those sharp blue ones that you’d once loved

“Maus please, please just wait” The Austrians voice seeped from the crack of your door before you had the chance to slam the door in his face he’d set a steel toe boot in the threshold of your house and you shove a shoulder to the surface of the door trying to keep him out

“If you need money, a place to hide out, or whatever I don’t have it” You hissed attempting to keep this intruder out of your home

“Nein it’s, its about the baby” He mumbled his eyes meeting your as you scoff in disbelief with a shake of your head your curls moving with each movement framing your face and a fibbed smile etched on your face

“Oh so now you want to take interest in Solei, ou- no my daughter! Are you drunk Midas!?” The pitch of your voices rises until you hear the wails of your daughter in your home and you don’t waste another second on Konig before going to aid to your babygirl

“Shhh it’s okay Sol mommy’s here” You whispered having picked up her small frame cradling her to your chest for such a little body she had a carrying pitch yet nonetheless settled down when your familiar hum traveled to her ears Midas stood in the doorframe of your room watching you both as you care over his daughter his heart pounded in his ears and before he knew it you were lowering her back down into the bassinet the screaming whales down deducted into tiny whimpers and hefty breaths when you turned around it was your turn to suck in a sharp breath not expecting the 6’10 colonel to be waiting for you but before you could open your mouth he stalked towards you forcing a wide tan envelope in your hands the weight slightly dragging your hand down

“This is what I calculated or tried to, to make up for the last year. Bills, Mechanics, You and… Solei” You noted the sound of your names sounded like a prayer falling from his pink lips that were no longer covered by his sniper hood like before

“You cant walk into our life after you just blatantly left and everything will be handy dandy, it doesn’t work that way”

“I want this to work Mau-, Y/n I want to be there for our daughter and for you I’ll do anything it takes. I was a fool back then and I know that now, but she’s still young and I want to be there before it’s too late… before we’re too late” He pleaded and you shook your head a frown forced on your face

“We are too late Midas, but that doesn’t mean Solei doesn’t deserve a father we take this little at a time… baby step” Konig applauded at your answer going to bring you in a hug before stepping back when you took a step away from him a shocked and somewhat frightened look on your face and he nodded taking one back

“Baby steps”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ domesticity, könig

könig got off to watching you be a mother.

könig hated to admit it. the way he inevitably got turned on whenever he came home from long missions. the way whenever he’d walk through the front door of your home, muddy and dirty boots immediately being taken off by the welcome mat so he didn’t stain the innocence of your home with his trauma and duties from work—the bludge in his pants grew at the sight of how you lived such a domestic life.

he was sure his view was a sight that nearly every man wished for at some point in their life. he felt blessed. blessed that no one else at his base had the privilege to come home to this. with you holding a chubby baby full of fiery strawberry blonde curls—undoubtedly belonging to him—on your wide hips, so full from giving birth no more than two years ago.

your daughter was a bit on the paler side despite having beautiful brown skin, and you always wondered if your genes even fucking tried to show out for you when creating her. she looked and acted so much like her father, the only way to probe that she was yours were your shared lips and her having your hair texture. everything else belonged to könig.

“papa wird bald zu hause sein, kleine liebe,” you reassure your daughter of her father’s return home soon as she began to grow cranky, a daily sign of her missing him. you had just finished breastfeeding her, and that was evident in the way the majority of your tits stuck out like a sore thumb from one of your man’s thin wife beater shirts. hey, you were home alone with nothing but pretty trees and bush surrounding you.

könig couldn’t help but smile at the back of your head as you hummed her a little song as you stirred your pot of food. the way your braids were tied down in a bright pink bonnet, the way the fat of your grown woman body hung out of your booty shorts that did nothing to hide the swallow of your ass, and how your white painted toes filled themselves in your fur slippers. the primal hormones in him filled with testosterone practically rushed to the blood of his dick as he watched you dance around the kitchen with your pretty baby.

this how you got pregnant in the first place.

every day he was grateful he decided to snatch you up and take you back to his home country with him. the way you adapted to his culture the way he did yours—you made sure to teach your baby her two native languages, english and german.

no one knew where you were, and könig liked it that way. you three could play house in peace for the next few months, at least until his next deployment. it was the safest option for you. to take you both out the states where his personal life could possibly be exploited.

no one knew where in austria exactly könig was from, making it harder for anyone to possibly track down his pretty little family. you were able to work in peace without having to worry about someone finding about your husband’s real job and eventually figuring out where your daughter went to daycare. it was peaceful for you in austria. as far as the neighbors knew, your husband was in the military occasionally on long deployment missions.

not exactly a lie.

he was never 100% at ease leaving his two girls anywhere, but he knew that if you were at least living in a place that he knew like the back of his fucking hand, his anxiety would calm down just a bit while on missions.

you fall completely deaf to the sound around you as your daughter babbles in your ear while you cooked. the delicious aroma of your wonderful food fills your husband’s nostrils as he finally decides its time for him to finally come out the shadows.

your baby continued to babble things in german-english as you began to plate food only for yourself like you’d done for the past six months, completely unbeknownst to the masculine presence behind you.

“my pretty wife always manages to make such delicious meals,” the hoarse voice manages to startle you to the point where you drop your pot spoon on the floor. “been starved for a plate, lover.”

your daughter turns her head before you do, and immediately fights to be put down from your arms. at the sight of her father, she gives a bright two-toothed grin and opens her arms. “daddy daddy!”

könig wastes no time in ripping off his mask and plastering a big kiss on his baby’s cheeks. “meine hübsche prinzessin,” he greets, engulfing “been a good girl for mommy, yeah?” the ice blue eyes question as they falter over to you. you’re still standing in shock that könig chuckles at the innocence on your face. the same one he’s been in love with for years now.

he didn’t blame you though, you didn’t expect him back for at least another two months.

könig wastes no time in walking over to you, and of course the first place his hands touch are your wide hips. his pink lips smash onto your brown ones and he wastes no time in engulfing all of you into him.

he doesn’t miss the way that small tears fill his shirt. he knows you’ve been alone in a secluded area, in an almost foreign place where you hardly knew anyone. he knew how lonely you must of felt having to do all this by yourself. he was here for you now.

god, he missed you. his good, pretty little wife.