#konig x sick reader

[wheezingstar]

I feel like if you say stupid shit to try and tell König you don’t feel good he’d agree. You could say something like “I feel like a puddle” and he’ll straight up go “you are a puddle, but at least you’re cute?”

He’d be unsure how to respond but then he’d hear how bad and scratchy your voice sounds and make you soup, or at least try too. This man wants to learn how to make homemade meals for you, but he’s struggling. He tries his best though.

He’ll make you into a burrito and say “you have to sweat the sickness out.” and then set a glass of water next to the bed along with Powerade and DayQuil pills cause he knows you hate liquid medicine.

Whenever you fall asleep from how tired you feel and hardly getting sleep from all the coughing he’ll set a cool rag on your forehead and keep an eye on you and your breathing.

[konigsblog]

Revenge sex!! Popular!reader filming herself with nerd!konig who thinks that she has feelings for him!!

nerd-könig doesn't realise that you're simply just taunting him for your own enjoyment and gratification.

you had been dared by a couple of your closest friends to get with the big, large loner in the corner to see what he's got between his thighs, and you almost felt guilty if it wasn't for the curiosity burning inside of you. it wasn't a surprise that könig was so large and girthy. i mean, you could tell just by looking at him, that deep down he was nothing but a pathetic, perverted loser. könig fixes the rectangular glasses sitting crookedly on his face, his breath reeking of booze and the scent of marijuana sticking to his fair, flushed skin.

könig doesn't deny that he's a virgin. you take full control by pinning him down to straddle his broad waist, attempting to bounce on his achingly large cock with the stretch burning inside of you. his breathing is ridiculously heavy and his eyelids are heavy with exhaustion and delirium, thrilled that a woman has finally shown interest in him, or so he thinks. könig is tired of jerking himself off and getting off to porn magazines and videos all alone in his bedroom. he needs a woman to tend to his sexual needs and desires.

könig is almost a little too eager to lose his virginity, especially to a gorgeous girl like you. it's laughable and humiliating for the poor creep, who can't keep his grimey, dirty hands off of you. you push his large hands down to his side, recording yourself as you ride him and take nearly every inch of his slick and swollen dick. könig pathetically begins to thank you for being so generous, for allowing him to feel a pussy for the first time. it wouldn't be unbelievable if könig never lost his virginity.

he's too open with you, sharing all of his filthiest, darkest secrets with you, oblivious to your untrustworthiness and the fact that you plan to leak these videos and recordings.

[alwaysshallow]

i'm thinking of stalker!könig lately.....

like, it all starts pretty innocent; he's on leave, he's pretty bored without the adrenaline that gives him military.

but, then he sees you. owner of a small shop near the place he lives; struggling with moving boxes. it's something so cliche, yet, he asks if you need any help. with a warm smile, you nod, thanking him - and you talk to him, like you know him more than a few seconds. he pays attention to your accent, you're certainly not from austria, you're from... somewhere else.

his curiosity gets the best of him - when he gets home, he learns all about you from social media. your favorite country, music, he knows you would die for your family; lot of them are on your social media profile, photos, captions so carefully written, comments with a lot of love. you also like swimming - seems like a passion or some sort, but all his focus on that information is gone the moment he notices a picture of you in bikini. tight one, black.

it doesn't take long for him to unbuckle his pants and start jerking off to your photo on his phone, groaning because he would rather fuck you stupid, torturing your cunt, than using his hand.

but that has to be enough for now. he just has to... approach you. to not scare his little prey.

[pl4ygrrrl]

☆*:.｡. GHOST X KÖNIG X READER !

a/n: OKAY here’s some very short and obvious poly headcanons. i left the relationship between ghost and könig kinda vague to leave it up to y’all. these are SFW i might do nsfw idk. i’m sick as shit rn so, sorry that these are short and possibly suck skdjd. i’ve never done headcanons before. ALSOOO, this is just how i personally see being in a poly relationship with them would be like. you don’t have to agree :)

i do have an ao3 account that has my old fanfics on it :)

how y’all met is entirely up to you, but you definitely initiated the relationship.

i’m gonna state the obvious: SCARY DOG PRIVILEGE. wanna go on a spontaneous late night walk? congrats, you can now do that with them with you.

i firmly believe they both give off an insane amount of body heat, so if you get cold often? not anymore! you have two personal heaters.

another obvious one: ghost is the holder of the singular brain cell between you three. but sometimes he loses it.

date nights are usually spent at home but on the rare occasion you all decide to go out, ghost is the one who organizes everything.

the sleeping arrangements would be AWFUL. i feel like könig kicks in his sleep, sometimes mumbles, and ghost is like a fucking log he never moves.

going off that, i see ghost as a heavy sleeper but also not? like, when he’s at home he could sleep through a car alarm BUT if you dared to get up out of bed to get something to drink or use the bathroom, he’s wide awake asking “where are you going? what are you doing?”

könig likes to make y’all breakfast :). ghost scarfs that shit down, plz remind him to take the time to actually taste the food

i’m so so sorry but if you have squishmallows or any plushies, ghost seems like the type to punch them when you leave the room

ghost accidentally tightens all the lids on the jars super tight and has gotten a full on lecture in german from könig bc he struggled for 15 minutes trying to open a jar and instead of admitting he struggled, he uses you as an excuse for the lecture. “what if y/n tried to open it?!?”

if you and könig got into an argument you guys would use ghost as your messenger boy like “plz tell könig to pass me a fork.” “plz tell y/n they have good perfectly working hands they can use to grab themselves a fork.” no, ghost doesn’t relay the messages because you guys are literally sitting across from each other.

overall though, being with them both is so comforting they give off comfy vibes and no i won’t elaborate because i can’t.

[cerise-on-top]

ITS MEEEE HIHIIII :DDDD

Can we getttt

Valeria, Soap, König and Price with a s/o who's a medic? or someone who does like navy stuff in the military with them ? pretty pleaseee

okay thank you buh bye :3

-☁️

Hello again! I did the medic request! I hope it's alright!

Price, Soap, Valeria and König with a Medic!Reader

Price: Oh, poor you, you’ll likely be overrun with work. Price knows you’re competent, that you know what you do, and thus you’ll likely be assigned all of his rowdy boys. It’s not uncommon for Soap to get hurt doing who knows what, so he often needs to be patched up. Same for Gaz. Those two will likely become patrons of yours. Price does also believe that you getting along well with those two would be a good thing, though. After all, you’ll be protected and the lads will get patched up. However, if you complain about getting too many injured people, he’ll tell the boys to go somewhere else for the time being. Every time Price gets hurt, however, he will ask to see you. Yes, he is an adult and can take not being babied by you just once, but he becomes a bit grouchy when another medic takes care of him. It’s nice to simply have your loved one take care of you. He won’t go out of his way to get hurt to see you, but if you’re working nearby he might ask you if you’d like to grab some tea or coffee with him before you both go back to doing what you do. You, too, are always welcome to knock on his office and ask to see him, he’ll try his best to make time for you. You always work so hard, you’ve earned a nice little break. If such a thing even is possible, and you wanna come along for a mission, he’d be hesitant. Don’t get me wrong, Price loves you and he knows he and his boys are in good hands with you, but he’ll make the world stop turning entirely if something were to happen to you. Thus, even if you insist on coming along, he’ll simply give you a kiss on your forehead and sternly tell you to stay. Don’t argue with him, he’ll always find ways to get you to stay. In the end, you’ll both just end up worried for each other, no matter what.

Soap: He’s kind of stoked to find out you’re a medic for his Task Force. Soap is a diligent guy, but he can also be a bit reckless at times, ergo it’s not so uncommon for him to get hurt. Sometimes the rookies just need to be shown who’s boss, other times Ghost needs to finally realize that Soap is stronger than he looks. Sometimes Soap will hurt himself for no other reason than wanting to see you. It’s nothing severe, sometimes he’ll come see you for a cut on his finger and joke about how he’s bleeding to death, consciousness fading already. Give him a bandaid and a kiss to his forehead and he’ll be on his merry way, claiming to have found a miracle healer every time. He’s so in love with you, he makes it everyone’s problem. His, yours, Ghost’s, even Gaz keeps hearing about your “magic spells” (a kiss on his wound). You and Gaz will also become good friends throughout your career, Soap and him always spar with each other, go overboard and end up hurt. Please scold the both of them, they won’t listen to a word you said, but they’re more inclined to be careful than if Ghost were to say something. Sometimes Soap likes to compare you to fictional medics he’s heard of. And yes, he has asked you to speak in a silly German accent before. It cracks him up every time you make a reference to Medic from TF2. If you ever were to join him on a mission he would be as stoked as he’d be horrified. On the one hand, everyone gets to see how cool you are, on the other you might get shot and not survive. That’s a risk he’s not particularly willing to take. Yes, he would consult Price about it and maybe tip the scales in his favor so you won’t have to join him after all. He’d rather die himself than have you die on the battlefield. You can argue with him all you want, he’ll always say Captain’s orders if you ever wanna come along. Losing you is the worst thing that could happen to him, so he’ll do what he can to keep you alive.

Valeria: Once she figured out you’re a medic, which was likely very early on, you’ll be the only one to ever treat her wounds. She’ll likely also be the only patient you’ll ever see. Her goons can have someone else, someone less guarded who she couldn’t actually care less about. You’re all hers, you’re safe and sound with her, kinda, and you’ll make sure she does well in return. It’s a constant give and take with her. You can chat with the others if you so please, but you’re not supposed to say that you’re a medic, no matter how badly you want to help someone. Some dick could plot revenge against Valeria by taking you out first, and she will not have that happen. At best, you don’t work for her at all and work somewhere else, even if that would make seeing each other a bit more difficult. As long as you’re not working for the Mexican Special Forces, she’s content with you working just about anywhere. However, please do help her whenever you can. You’ll be the only one she trusts with just about anything medical. She has some knowledge about it herself, but yours surpasses hers. You can stitch her up all you want, as long as she’s able to walk again after a while, she’s happy. While she won’t ask and whine for one, she would appreciate it as well if you gave her a small kiss on her (not severe) wound. But only if the two of you are alone, no one needs to know you’re together. You can insist on coming along all you want, you won’t. Valeria will chuckle a bit, put your face in her hands, and tell you all the good reasons why you won’t be coming along. Absolutely no one needs to know who you are, no one needs to know in which way you’re affiliated with her. If Valeria dies on the battlefield, that’s one thing, but they won’t take you along with her, dead or alive. Your chances of coming along are zero because she’s the boss and she gets to decide who lives and who dies. You’ll live for as long as possible.

König: He’d probably be a bit surprised to see you on a KorTac base just like that, helping out. But he wouldn’t mind you being there. Like Soap and Price, if he gets injured he’ll ask to see you, even if he won’t exactly disclose what your relationship is either. You know each other, that’s all everyone else needs to know. He’d use this time to catch up with you, chat with you about anything and everything. More often than not, König is on the battlefield, risking his life for money, so it’s nice to get some downtime for once and not have to worry about getting shot. Although he knows you’re likely busy, he will try to stall for some time whenever he can, he doesn’t get to see you that often, after all. König doesn’t get hurt very often, but whenever he does, it’s usually something pretty bad. He doesn’t complain about the pain, he doesn’t whine about it either, he simply gets it treated after the mission is over. He’s broken a lot of his bones already, but they’ve healed every time. He’s not reckless per se, just not always very lucky. Most of his injuries come from his surroundings rather than his enemies. He’ll never forget the panicked look on your face when he came to you almost nonchalantly, hiding his pain as some shrapnel was stuck in his shoulder. This man’s body is littered with scars. Just take good care of him, and you’ll have yourself a happy little soldier, though. Unlike the other three, he doesn’t really see the problem with you tagging along for a mission. A good medic is always needed, no matter where you are. Sure, he’s well aware you could die, but he’s confident enough in himself to be able to protect you. Besides, you’re trustworthy and good at what you do, they’ll always need you. Just be prepared for König to be a bit clingier with you than he usually is. While he isn’t as worried about you dying, he is aware of the risks. Stays with you until the mission is over, or until another soldier he knows he can trust, such as Horangi, has come to cover you.

[lxvvie]

this is what happens when you and your friend try to make fandom names for the boys:

Captain John Price - Contestants (for the Price is Right); Price Patrol.

Gaz - I stand ten toes down on Gaz Nation but then G-Unit became a thing and, um... lmao.

Soap - ...Suds. lmaooo.

Ghost - Ghostbusters and Simoniacs (yes, we know what a simoniac is)

Alejandro Thee Stallion - The Ponies

Rudy - The Reindeer(s)

Phillip Graves - Gravediggers; this is cute 'cause they... dig Graves. See what we did there? See what we—

König - the Entourage or the Courtiers.

[velvet-paradox]

Virgin neighbor König in bound

[wordstome]

if I finally go off the deep end it’s because I thought too hard and too long about König standing in the kitchen without a shirt on and a piece of bread between his lips. good grief

[icouldntfindthedoor]

Tw// vomit

König x gn and sick reader who is having a panic attack after vomiting and König tries to calm them down? I have a big fear of vomiting and when it happens I end up crying and sometimes have panic attacks. I'm curious how he'd react!

Sorry if it doesn't make sense (English isn't my first language) and have a nice day!

Oh stop, I know exactly what you’re talking about. I get terrible anxiety over vomiting as well. And your English is perfect love, don’t worry. 

First things first is König needs to make sure you’re hydrated. Whether that be through getting you a bottle of water or some ice to chew on, he’ll get it for you. 

He also gets you a cold wet cloth to put on the back of your neck, that helps with nausea (when I get terrible bad nausea this actually helps, I use one of those migraine patches on the back of my neck. Swear to God it helps.) 

If you’re not in a bathroom he’s got a bucket for you and towels and tissues. If you’re embarrassed about getting sick on him he reassures you he doesn’t give a shit about his clothes, he needs to know you’re okay. 

When you’re in a better head space later on you can joke about it. This relationship will last forever because you’ve puked on me and I didn’t care, it’s true love. 

As for the panic attack, he assures you he won’t leave you, that he’s there for you, but never says, “don’t worry.” He himself fucking hates it when someone says that to him when he’s having a panic attack so he never says it to you. If you’re in the mood to talk he’ll try to distract you with light chatter, like talking about a butterfly he saw outside earlier, or what he dreamt about the night before, just anything to keep your mind off how sick you feel. 

He never tells you to stop crying. He gets it. Sometimes you just need to cry even if it doesn’t make sense. He tells you to let it out and grabs a tissue to wipe the tears from your face. “It’s alright, liebling, I’m here.”  

If you’re alright with being touched during a panic attack, he’ll be holding your hand, or running his hand soothingly up and down your arm, maybe even giving you his mask so you can feel the material in your fingers. He knows it’s important to feel grounded during these moments, and while he himself doesn’t typically like to be touched during his own panic attacks, he’ll do whatever you need to help you through yours. 

Afterwards you’re probably exhausted and still feeling sick, so he asks if he can carry you to your room, or if you’re taller than him, you lean on him and he walks you to your room. He helps you change into comfier clothes, tucks you into bed, and if you’re okay with him staying, he takes off his boots, helmet and mask and lays next to you. He asks if you want more water or some dry crackers to settle your stomach. You say no, you just want him. 

You fall asleep curled up next to him, and when you wake up with a dry mouth and a slight headache, he’s there with some toast, a glass of water and painkillers. You joke that he’d make a very cute nurse. He huffs and says, “I’d be a very sexy nurse, you mean.” 

[ebodebo]

my tip sticky

[wheezingstar]

Totally not what I usually post as of recent, but… I feel like a bag of apples that was thrown at a wall but not hard enough to explode just hard enough to badly bruise and slightly crack

To put it in a more understandable way, I’m sick. I feel like death in a bottle, an old bruised banana. I’m sore as fuck and this is a bit gross, but there’s just phlegm (mucus) building up in my throat that is just sitting there.

Fun fact about me, I get sick… EASILY. I used to have a great immune system before moving and then it fucked me up. I never thought I had such terrible allergies, I didn’t think I could get Covid THREE BLOODY TIMES.

Anyway, expect some head cannons and mini stories with the CoD characters when reader is sick because I’m sick.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[konigsblog]

TW: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES. MDNI 18+

Therapist!König who forcefully re-enacts everything you rant to him about during your sessions together, taking advantage of the authority he has over you and claiming it's ‘mandatory’.

He's just doing his job, Mauschen.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Sea bunny!Reader that honestly is way too sleepy to care or notice anything around her X Monster!Konig

Konig just snatched your cute, sleepy form one day, and you were none the wiser. Yeah, you're not in the nice, clear water of the warm lagoons. You're stuck in that dark cave, forced to get on the tiny, murky spot of land and use your human features to navigate around the place - but honestly, you were just sleeping most of the time, letting whatever predator who snatched you, do the rest of the work. He didn't, surprisingly. And you were still none the wiser. Konig thought you were sick at first. He didn't know anything about sea bunny mermaids, he just thought you looked adorable, all sleepy as you were floating in some corral field, and he knew he had to get you with him. It's his mating season soon - and he needs a warm, tight hole to spew his eggs into, or else he will honestly go crazy. God, just how fucking adorable you'd look, filled with his eggs and sleeping in a cozy seaweed nest, he will make you. Living with an eldritch creature trying to mate you isn't all that bad when you're this dizzy and sleepy, actually. He would bring you food, sometimes even using his tentacles to feed you, which was a bit cute since you would start sucking on the sensitive parts and chew on them in your sleepy state. He also built you a nice nest made of dried kelp and only tied you up when he was leaving the cave... he stopped tying you up when he realized that you're actually a bit too lazy to swim away from the dark corner of the ocean floor where he lives, so he can literally just leave you in one place and expect you to stay in the same one. Even sex with him is kinda lazy. He just does all the work - fucking you until you're a crying, overwhelmed mess filled with his eggs and seed, your tummy bulging from the sheer amount. You're always so sensitive and fragile, he can't help but be a bit sadistic when he pushes too many tentacles in your soft holes, making you whimper as he was spreading you beyond comfort.

[latenightdaydreams]

Hi,hi😘🤗😄

Demon! König X Nun!Reader

First of all I honestly want to tell you that I really like your posts and the way you write your fanfics, every day the first thing I do after waking up is usually go to Tumblr, to check if you have posted anything.

Tôi thấy bạn đã từng viết về các linh mục! Konig X Nun! người đọc, sau đó tôi muốn khác biệt

The reader was awakened in the middle of the night by a strange noise outside the church, encountered a stranger drenched in the rain, because of her kindness and naivety, she gave the stranger shelter from the rain overnight and was raped.

Tôi sẽ vui cả ngày nếu bạn trả lời tôi về yêu cầu này, yêu bạn 😘😍🤩❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much🥰 It always means to much when I get such sweet messages😭🩷 And yes!!

Demon!König x Nun!Reader (fem)

🚫MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING🚫

As always, please skip if you cannot handle or do not enjoy graphic topics! Your mental health matters! I hope you all have a great day💗

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, virginity loss, religious themes

1.7k word count

⛪

.

.

War has torn apart the village you live in, leaving only the solace of the Lord to get you through these dark and depressing times. You’re fast asleep in your bedroom within the church walls when a loud crashing sound wakes you up. Quickly, you stand, putting a scarf over your hair, then grab your purple robe and wrap it around your body. You pick up your flashlight as you walk through the dark church to inspect the noise.

You open up the front doors of the church and look around, shining the flashlight into the darkness as heavy rainfalls in front of you. Not exactly wanting to get wet, you decide to chalk the sound up to thunder. That’s when your eyes focus on the outline of a large individual. You shine your light on him to see it’s a man shivering from the icy rain. Instantly, you feel a strange feeling about this man. Where did he come from? You shake that feeling away, deciding to do what God would want you to do.

“Sir? Are you alright?” You call out to him.

König lifts his head as blonde hair falls over his face, his eyes roaming down your form hidden by your robe. Your voice sounds so sweet, almost as sweet as he’s sure you’ll taste. A little nun is left all alone when most villagers have gone off to war or died.

“Ja, I’m just lost.” He lies so effortlessly. “I lost contact with my family and I don’t know where I am.”

You look at him up and down. The man is massive and his Austrian accent is thick. With a quick glance around, you decide the holy thing to do is to let him inside, at least for the night. He could get sick in the rain and pass. That’s not something you could live with.

“Please, come inside for the night. I have a cot you could sleep on. Let yourself rest up as the rain passes.”

“Danke.”

König approaches the steps of the church, his tall stature towering over you as passes you to step inside the dark church. He looks around as you close the doors again, locking them once more. As you approach him again with the flashlight in hand, he gets to see your features up close, noting how delicate you look.

“I’m König.” He holds his hands out to shake yours.

“Sister y/n.” You place your much smaller dainty hand in his, his skin feeling warm to the touch.

His pale blue eyes linger on yours, seemingly reflecting in the darkness. The sight causes your heart to skip a beat, but you convince yourself it was a flash of lightning. König can smell your fear, your innocence. Such a tiny little thing, he will have fun ruining you.

“I have a cot and extra blankets that you can use for tonight. The priest might have left behind something you can fit into so you can let your uniform dry.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

As you walk forward into the back of the church, König follows closely behind; his eyes traveling up and down your body. You open up a door on the left, a closet where everything was kept. König lingers by the door as you bend over to grab blankets from the basket and then grab a cot.

“Let me, Sister.” König reaches out, grabbing the items from your arms.

“Thank you.” His kind gestures relax you and make you feel better about your decision to help him. “You can set up in the church and I’ll go to the old priest’s room to look for clothing.”

König nods, stepping back to allow you room to walk past. His eyes follow what direction you go in, lingering in his spot for a few seconds before dropping everything and following you. With quiet and careful steps, he follows you up a short staircase to the bedroom. The old wooden door creaks open. The room has a lantern lit showing a large cross with bloody Jesus hanging over the queen size bed.

You turn quickly to see König stepping inside, this time that deep sinking feeling isn’t as easy to shake away. He gets uncomfortably close, invading your personal space. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of your face, slowly moving up to push your veil off and exposing your hair underneath. A light gasp leaves your lips as you turn to grab it, only to be stopped by his hand grabbing your arm.

“Please, let me go.” You whimper with fear in your voice.

“Sister y/n, so young and trusting. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust strange men?” He smiles, revealing his sharp teeth.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His grip on your wrist tightens as he pulls you to him. “I’m going to make you feel amazing, Sister.”

König grabs a fistful of hair in his hand, pulling your head back. With his other hand he pulls at the ties of your robe, pulling the garment from your body to expose the thin white nightgown you have on below. His hands grope you, grabbing at your breasts through the fabric while you try your hardest to fight back against him. It was no use; he is so much stronger than you.

With little effort he drags your body to the bed, slamming you down on it. The breath gets knocked out of you as your eyes go wide looking at him. His once blue eyes, now pitch black as he smiles down at you with a wicked grin.

“Wh—what are you?”

“An angel.” He says mockingly as he laughs at your fear.

König leans down and licks your face, causing you to try and turn away in disgust. He bites your jaw, both of his hands bringing your wrist together above your head. In one hand he holds your wrist, pining you to the bed right where he wants you. His other hand slips beneath the hem of your gown and caresses your inner thigh.

With all of your might you try to close your legs and stop his hand from gliding up further. It’s no use, his fingers hook the fabric of your white cotton panties and pull them off of your body. His fingers squeeze your mound before slipping his fingers between your slit.

“Please stop! You can’t do this!”

“I can and I am.” He presses his lips against yours in a painful kiss as his hand rubs back and forth on your sensitive clit.

Your both writhes underneath his body as he touches you. Shameful moans leave you and are muffled into his mouth. His tongue swirls around yours before biting down painfully on your bottom lip. You cry out as the taste of cooper fills your mouth.

“Stand up, get undressed.”

König moves off of you and begins to pull off his black shirt and undo his pants. You stand, trembling as you take your nightgown off. As you stand naked in front of him, you begin to pray. He laughs loudly listening to your prayers. He grabs your hair harshly and drags you to the end of the bed, pushing you down.

The only think you see when you look up is Jesus Christ on the cross, looking down at you as he pulls your hair. You don’t stop praying as König slaps his cock on your ass. He presses himself against your asshole before dropping down to the entrance of your virgin pussy. As you pray to send the demon König away, his hips buck forward slipping his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh, you feel so heavenly Sister.” König’s voice a low growl as he thrust his hips into you.

Streaks of blood left behind from his fat cock tearing your hymen. Your face scrunches in a shameful mix of pleasure and pain. His cock bullies its way deeply inside of you, making sure he completely fills you.

“Please God, save me—”

“Ja, beg your God to save you, Taube.” His hips slam harder into you, your pussy fluttering as you try to adjust to him. Your prayers don’t stop. As if truly thinking you matter. “Your god doesn’t care about you. You’re all alone. Here. With me. I’m your god now.”

“No!” Your fingers grab at the bedsheets and squeeze as you feel how wet you’re getting, your body betraying you and enjoying every painful thrust.

König pulls his cock out and yanks you back by your hair roughly. “Open.” You do as he asks, fear in your eyes as you look up at him. He slips his cock into your mouth, moving his body over yours so that you’re leaning back between his legs. His hips begin to thrust into your mouth, shoving himself down your throat.

You gag; your hands hit his ass trying to stop but it only encourages him more. Tears pour down your face as spit begins to bubble at the edges of your mouth and fall down your face. Your body tenses as you try to not vomit. The salty taste of his precum of coppery taste of your cunts blood mix and add to the unpleasant sensation.

He pulls back, slapping his slobbery cock on your face as your gasp for air. “Pray to me, pray I fuck you.”

As you’re gasping for air, you feel broken down. A demon entered the hold grounds and is breaking your vow to the lord. God nowhere to be found as you plea for his salvation. With trembling lips, you pray.

“Dear König, please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy.” Tears roll down your cheeks as you gaze up with puffy lips.

“Perfect Sister. Perfect.” He pushes you back onto the cold wooden floor as he crawls on top of you, shoving his cock back inside of you.

After that night, your faith in God has never been the same. There is no feeling of the Holy Spirit around you, only the empty and cold walls of an old building. The demon named König visits you in your dreams to torment you. You often spend your days staring blankly into space, waiting for König to come back and claim you again.

[cerise-on-top]

König as a Father to a Son

I saw people characterizing König as someone mean and cruel again. Do people honestly think he would only care about his daughter and not his son? Some people make me really sick. Anyway, here's König as a father to a son, who he loves and adores and would fight the world for because he's a good father <3

I can see him being close to tears the first time he holds you. It doesn’t matter to him whether you’re related by blood or if you’ve been adopted, you’re just so small and helpless. You’re so tiny, he could easily crush you and just kill you. He’s well aware that he shouldn’t be thinking anything like this about you, but he can’t help it, you’re just so incredibly precious to him. He knows that you’ll grow up into a fine young man, and he’ll do whatever he can to ensure that you’ll be happy in your life. Although his partner would want to hold you as well, I feel as though he’d have such a hard time letting go of you, his paternal instincts kicking into overdrive. He’d smile so much, putting his forehead against yours and just cooing at you. You’d make him the happiest man in the world and he wants to be a good father for you.

However, he wouldn’t be all that present in your life. He’s a good and competent soldier, who works at a PMC, so he will be sent on many missions. However, the thought of making it back home, just to see you grow up, keeps him going. Even if he’s been shot, he’ll think about you, about how bad he wants to see you, about how he wants to be present in your life, and he’ll carry on. Even when he should have died, his determination kept him going. He’ll become an even more efficient soldier on the battlefield once he’s had you. Nothing and no one can keep you from him.

When he is present? He’ll try to spend as much time with you as possible, trying to make up for the lost time. He’ll go take walks with you, he’ll cuddle you in bed as you’re both drifting off to sleep, he’ll buy you whatever you want. He has the monetary means to do so, so why wouldn’t he spoil you? Lots of hugs from your father, he’s really just trying to bond with you. Yes, many people might see him as a monster, but he can be truly kind hearted with the people he cares about. He’ll play with you, he’ll let you sleep with him in his bed, hell, he’ll even let you use him as a tree to climb whenever you so please. He’s really not so bad as a father. If you really want to, he’ll even play fight with you, always losing and pretending to be hurt to show you just how strong you are.

Even as you grow older, he’ll try to be with you as often as he can. Always calling you, sending you text messages and such. He just really wants to be part of your development. And if anyone ever gives you trouble at school? Well, normally he’s not very confrontational outside of his work, but when it’s about you he would not hesitate to demolish another child either. He will threaten those children until they start crying and leave you alone. Even if you might not want him to, he will find out who those little brats are and make them leave you alone. He remembers how horrible it is to be bullied at school and the last thing he wants is for you to go through the same thing. He will not tolerate you feeling bad about something that you can’t control or that isn’t your fault. Papa König always has your back.

That being said, he’s probably not as strict as many would think. Sure, he’s a military man who has killed more people than most of us ever even got to know, but he does want you to live your life too. Sure, he’ll teach you how to defend yourself. It’s one way of him bonding with you as well. You’ll become a strong young man, but you better not use your fighting skills for evil. You should be protecting the weak with them. If he ever finds out about you abusing your fighting skills he will get genuinely mad at you and scold you. But I think in that case it should be justified. No, he’ll have you grow into a fine young man, who will protect those who can’t protect themselves. You’ll be a kind and compassionate man under his care. Even so, you’re not forbidden from going out with your friends to drink here and there. He did too when he was younger, his parents never minded. Drinking is a huge part of Austrian culture, so he’ll even buy the booze for you and your friends. Nothing too strong just yet, but you can count on him. Will also go grab some fast food for you and your friends as well. All in moderation, though. He doesn’t want you to drink too much either. But he would sit down with you from time to time just to drink a beer or two with you.

He’ll also try to give you the feeling that you could always come to him if you ever need support. He’s a lot older than you, he has a lot more experience under his belt than you do, so he will always do what he can to help you out. Especially if you have a mental illness. He has social anxiety, so it’s not like he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t matter if you have a personality disorder, schizophrenia, or something else. He’ll do his research and try to help you however he can. He won’t judge you for taking medication and he won’t judge you for needing help either. Just because you’re a boy doesn’t mean you should have to bottle everything up until you reach your breaking point. If you ever need help, you can always come to him. Regardless of whether you want to vent, want some advice, or just want to cry into his shoulder. His parents always did the same for him, so naturally he’ll do the same for you too. He won’t judge you, he won’t yell at you, and he won’t scold you. He won’t ever neglect you just for feeling the way you do. Quite the opposite, he’s glad when you do come to him, it makes him feel as though you trust him and that he didn’t fail as a father. You’re his son, so of course he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure you can smile and be happy.

König doesn’t mind you being queer either. Why would he? He’s not straight himself either, so he’s one of the last people to judge you about it. Will give you a pat on the back and thank you for being honest with him and trusting him enough with this kind of information. If you want to go to Pride, he’ll join you. While I don’t think he’ll be happy per se to be surrounded by this many people, he’ll do it for you so you can celebrate who you are.

Another big thing for him would be that he’d teach you German. Both High German and his dialect. It’s very important to him. I think he would get a little more strict with you if you were to only speak High German. His dialect is a big part of his culture, which is slowly dying out and being replaced with High German, which is a huge shame to him. He wants you to speak his dialect and will correct you if you speak too much High German. Sure, he’ll always know more words in his dialect than you since he’s of a different generation, but you will be speaking his dialect for the most part. This is only if you’ve been adopted, though. If you’re related by blood then he’ll naturally teach you his dialect.

Overall he’s a pretty loving father. He’d fight just about anyone for you and make sure you’re doing well, no matter what. He’s just happy to have a son like you, he loves you so much.

[uhohdad]

HIS

Stalker!Konig x Reader Fic

Summary: It makes him sick to think of the man he used to be. Who he was before you reduced him to an obsessive, jealous monster.

You ruined his life.

Word Count: 10k AO3

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, No use of y/n, AFAB & Feminine Reader, Unreliable Narrator, Non-Consenual Voyeurism, Stalking, Breaking and Entering, Abusive Relationships, Depictions of: Non-Con Sex, Choking, Hair-Pulling, Spanking, Slut-Shaming, Bad German, Orgasm Torture, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Smoking, Konig has a Love/Hate Relationship with Reader, Implications of Ghost x Reader, hopefully the reader isn’t too out of character for y’all, unfortunately this one had to be more detail oriented, you will be making an uncharacteristic amount of phone calls i’ll tell you that much

Continuation of this, but can be enjoyed stand-alone

He dreamt of you last night.

You were ethereal, liebe. A true angel - floating down to him in his dark isolation, basking him in your elegant golden light. He finally had your attention. The pleasure of having your gaze fixed on him, nothing but adoration in your sparkling eyes. Your hand extended gracefully out to him, delicate fingers cupping the side of his face, thumb stroking his cheek. A gesture of appreciation for the hours he poured into you, an acceptance of his protection. An apology, for denying him the ownership that he had earned over and over again.

An ownership he was overdue for.

A chill wrapped its fingers around Konig’s spine, unforgiving frost spreading from his core to his fingertips. Your expression had changed without transition, eyes suddenly pooled with malice, lips tightened in disgust. A growl thick with hatred reverberated through him when the thrust of your arm plunged a sword through his heart.

Frantic callused hands scramble to the wound, relieved to find only a shirt drenched in sweat as Konig shook the haze of sleep. Relieved to know you hadn’t seen him for what he really was, that you hadn’t rejected him so cruelly.

He was beginning to resent you for the sleep deprivation. He knew you were going to let him sleep in today. Every Saturday, after a long week of watching over you, you thank him with an opportunity to sleep in.

You ruined it.

Taunting him in his dreams - fooling him even after everything he’s sacrificed, letting him taste a moment where his fantasy comes true, only to rip it away from him so brutally.

Konig soothed himself by lying back, easing himself into the first half of his dream. He replayed the vivid image of you stroking his cheek, looking at him in astonishment after learning about everything he’s done for you.

Maybe he could forgive you for tearing open his chest. For letting him feel true bliss, even for a moment. To let him know what it would feel like to have you.

It’s the least you could do.

Konig doesn’t even recognize himself anymore. He’s entirely off the rails, fully succumb to his depraved behavior, helpless to the urges you’ve scraped to the surface. It makes him sick to think of the man he used to be. Who he was before you reduced him to an obsessive, jealous monster.

You ruined his life.

His passions, his dreams, his reputation - it all pales in comparison to you. Nothing he cared about before matters now. He feels like an addict, powerless to his addiction and chasing the high. He revolves around you, the center of his universe. He’s sure you’re the reason he’s alive. You consume every waking moment of his day, and now his dreams.

And you can’t even be bothered to look at him.

Ungrateful little brat.

You had a late start to the day, making Konig wait for you to sleep off last night’s drinks. It was well into the afternoon when you left your quarters, wearing your civilian clothes and attention glued to your phone as you navigated the paths of the base.

It was a breath of fresh air to see your face again. He’d been drowning, choking on his pitiful existence when you were apart. Dread eats him alive from the inside out, a swarm of maggots and flies deteriorating the meat of his flesh and organs. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand without being with you every moment of the day.

But here you are, his light, his warmth. He can feel you coursing through his veins - another hit of the drug he couldn’t get enough of.

You looked perfect in your jeans and t-shirt. It’s nice to see you out of the drab and ill-fitting clothes the military forces on you. The denim hugs the curve of your ass and meld tight to perfect hips and thighs. He thinks of the show you gave him last night, the way your ass looked in the thin fabric of your panties. He knows what’s underneath those jeans. You can hide it from the rest of the world, but not from him.

You’re not paying attention, liebe. Fingers pecking away at your phone, only glancing up to make sure you didn’t bump into anyone.

It’s dangerous to be alone like this, even more so to be unaware of your surroundings.

You always do this.

How could you be so careless?

This is why he has to sacrifice everything to protect you. To keep prying eyes and itchy fingers away from you while your guard is down.

Your brows pinch as you focus on your phone, lips silently reading the text that fills your screen.

Who is so important that you must risk your safety to return their message?

He wants to sprint up to you, close enough that he can look over your shoulder to read your messages. It takes strength for him to restrain himself, to wait until you’re far enough away before standing from his bench, his boots following in your wake.

Konig’s longed to get his hands on your phone for some time. He knows that phone contains secrets about you he could only dare to dream about. It’s the key to knowing your inner desires, to put him in the position to serve you as best he can. Your intimate messages, browser history, photos.

He wonders if you have nudes on your phone. The very thought sends his blood rushing.

Swiping through your dirty pictures, a collection of obscene poses from his muse. One of you arching your back and pushing your tits out for the camera. Another with you sticking out your tongue, begging to taste him and ready to choke on his cock. On your back, thighs spread, displaying a wet cunt ripe for tasting. On your knees, ass up and waiting impatiently for him to pound you ruthlessly from behind.

His fantasy is tainted by the sharp and scorching realization that if you did have nudes on your phone - you’ve sent them to someone. The thought of another man daring to lay his unworthy eyes on you has his eye twitching, a searing heat already peeling his skin.

Why would you give yourself away, like you’re worth nothing?

He forces a deep breath, redirecting his focus to his pace, strides nearly double the length of yours. He hates having to follow you from so far away. He wants to walk beside you. Towering next to you - he wants everyone to know who you belong to, the mountain they would have to conquer if they wanted to get to you.

He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire journey to your destination, delightfully surprised when you step into the mall. He was worried that you were foolish enough to go somewhere unsavory all by yourself. It’s even better that you were going somewhere with plenty of people around, enough for him to blend in the crowd. Such a wide-open building, perfect for him to keep a watchful eye on you even from a distance.

Maybe today you’ll make it easy for him.

He’s getting tired of you being difficult.

When you duck into a clothing store, Konig can’t help the smile that creeps on his face.

Going to pick out new clothes to model for him?

Oh, you really were being a good girl today.

He’s eager to see what you buy, heart rate accelerating as he imagines the possibilities. He’s already dressing you up in his mind like his little doll.

He settles at a table in the food court with a perfect view. You seemed to be in a rush - not wasting time as you scrape hangers across the metal clothing racks. Eyebrows pinched in concentration, jaw slightly cocked as you pressed your tongue to your teeth. You look cute when you’re focused.

Konig’s brow perks when you stop in your tracks, attention caught by a dress on the end display. Your face relaxes when you lay eyes on it, delicate hands running over its fabric. It was beautiful - a soft pastel blue, intricate azure and yellow flowers blooming on its pattern, a thin white lace stitched along the neckline. It was a dress fit for a princess, fit for his wife. He dives headfirst into a daydream about you wearing it once he’s domesticated you, hem dancing when you greet him with a kiss after a long day. His hands would find your waist when you stand on tippy toes to give him his welcome home kiss.

You flip the price tag before moving on, and his smile falls flat.

That’s the one. That’s the dress you’re meant to wear.

You like it, don’t you?

You stop every so often to check the time on your phone, pulling a face when you do so. Running late to something, he’s sure. Where are you supposed to be? And what’s so important that you needed a new outfit?

He watches you pull a hanger free, a black dress you hold up high enough to obscure his view of you.

No, liebe.

Don’t even think about it.

He can tell from his spot across the walkways that it’s too revealing. It would cut short at your mid-thigh, neckline that’s designed to show off your cleavage. Skin tight and would leave nothing to the imagination.

The kind of dress that would attract the attention of the wrong people.

Of course you would do this.

Dressing yourself like the slut you are.

A scowl smears across his face as he watches you walk up to the cashier.

So you were going to be difficult today.

Just when he thinks you’re finally cutting him some slack, you go out of your way to misbehave.

You’re quick to leave, whorish dress packed away in a white plastic bag and resting on the crease of your arm. Your hands find your phone again, a slight wince at something on your screen.

He’s too disappointed with your clear lack of judgment to think about what’s on your phone that’s stealing your attention.

He has to close his eyes, a few deep breaths to calm himself before he loses control, before he gives in and teaches you a lesson that you so desperately need.

His fists stay tight at his sides, knuckles splotched white on tight fists as he follows you out of the mall in haste.

With a hitch of his breath the rage carried on tensed shoulders lifts.

It’s the sun shining on your hair that grounds him this time. Locks shimmering, revealing their true color to him as the breeze makes your soft tufts dance. Your skin glows in the sun’s warmth - it takes him right back to the euphoria of his dream. Your light, liebe - he can see it.

Your pace slows when you reach behind you, pulling your phone from the sheath of your jean pocket. He can’t see your face, but he watches from behind as you bring it to your ear.

He seized his opportunity to close ground, enough that he can hear your side of the conversation. He normally wouldn’t get so close to you, but you seem to be extra distracted today, and Konig is too curious to miss out on your phone call.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry. I’m almost at the subway. I’ll be there in 20.”

Hearing your voice makes his heart skip a beat. He missed that beautiful voice, silky smooth and goes down like honey.

Especially when you sound so apologetic.

Is this what it’ll be like when you finally own up to the grief you’ve put him through?

There’s a pause before you speak again, a small laugh escaping you.

“He can wait.”

He?

Konig’s thoughts race before you had even finished your sentence, his moment of enamor shattering like rose-colored glasses.

Who’s he?

Is ‘he’ who you picked out that promiscuous dress of yours for?

Anyone who would be okay with that dress doesn’t have your best interests in mind, liebe. Konig knows what’s best for you, and it’s getting harder to watch from the sidelines as you make mistakes time and time again. He’s ready to interfere, to take control away from you, since you’re clearly not responsible enough to do it yourself. Someone needs to put their foot down. You’re begging for him to step in, to discipline you until you can demonstrate you’re capable of behaving.

“Uh,” You trail off in a hum before you respond, “I don’t know about that. You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“I don’t know.” You say with a whine, “This is already a lot for me. I don’t… this really isn’t my thing.”

“No!” You squeak out, followed by a forced casual, “No.” You’re suddenly flustered, stopping in your tracks when a nervous laugh escapes you. You make a quarter turn and Konig flinches when he sees your face, searching around for a quick escape.

“Just because I talk about him a lot doesn’t mean I like him.”

Konig’s eye twitches at ‘him.’ Who are you talking about so often that you’re being accused of crushing on someone?

Maybe you were talking about Konig.

He doubts it, but the idea dulls the edge of the blade you’re slicing him with.

“Because…” You huff, bailing on a sentence you started without thinking through, “Okay, fine. I’ll try. For you.”

What mess were you getting yourself into, liebe? He doesn’t like the sound of this at all.

“Okay, okay. I’m at the station now. See you soon.” Your phone slips back into your pocket.

Going on the subway all by yourself. Look at you, inviting danger in.

He’s locked onto your ass as you make the descent into the underground, hips swaying with each step down the concrete stairs.

If you look this distracting in jeans, what attention do you think you’ll attract in that fucking dress?

You reach for your wallet once you’re down the stairs, the pad of your finger freeing your subway card from its slot.

Shit.

He doesn’t have a subway card.

His gaze flicks to the kiosks before back to you, already swiping your card and pushing through the turnstiles. He scans the crowd before he lands on a pair of cops monitoring the station, ruining his chance to jump the stiles.

He almost drops his wallet as he fumbles for cash, rushing to the kiosk to pay.

He’s pleading under his breath for the machine to process faster. He’s convinced the kiosk could sense his fear, uncooperative to the forceful press of its buttons. Panicked glances over his shoulder reveal you progressing through the station until you’re around the corner and out of sight.

He’s lost track of you by the time he secures his card. The crowd parts for him, his intimidating stature coming in handy as he makes laps around the station before he realizes you’re gone, with no way for him to know where you are headed. A blackhole of dread swallows him whole - sweat escapes the flustered heat that blistered his skin, heart pounding against his ribcage. His hand finds his head, quiet but rigid expletives riding his exhales.

Why do you have to make things so hard for him?

He’s failed you. He’s sorry, liebe. He’s supposed to be your guard. Anything that happens to you tonight will be his fault. He suspects you’re really going to be acting out tonight, going somewhere out of your comfort zone with other men, dressed like a prostitute. Your light on display for anyone to dim.

White hot flashes of grabbing hands, lingering eyes, and cheap compliments invade his thoughts, stomach tightening and threatening to retch.

This is your fault.

You’re just a foolish little girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her. You’ve pushed him to his limit, he can’t let this go on anymore.

If you won’t behave, he’ll just have to show you how a good girl acts.

It takes him too long to realize he’s holding his breath, fist clenched and teeth grit as his rage burns him from the inside out. His eyes pinch shut as he tries to recenter himself, forcing deep breaths through his tightened jaw.

Nothing too extreme.

A gentle nudge.

A push to test the waters, to see if you can handle the expectations that go along with being his. To give you an opportunity to change your indecent behavior before he puts you in your place the hard way.

————————————————————-

Konig’s taken the lives of countless men, a ruthless brute in the heat of the battlefield. He’s been in thousands of life or death circumstances, finding himself on the other end of blades and triggers on a near daily basis. He thrives in danger.

It’s nothing in comparison to the adrenaline coasting through his veins as he picks the lock to your quarters.

He can hear his heartbeat, the rush of his blood deafening him as he crouches in front of your door, head snapping side to side to ensure the coast remains clear. He‘s nauseous with excitement, stomach churning and sweat soaking his clothes.

There’s a part of him, a sliver thin remnant of the respectable man he used to be, that manifests as a weight of guilt in his stomach. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, that he was so far beyond the line he couldn’t even see it anymore. This was a new magnitude of violating your privacy.

He knows that if he got caught, he’d be discharged faster than he could explain himself. He’d lose you, his warmth.

You left him no choice.

If you didn’t want this to happen, you shouldn’t have run from him. You’ve given him the perfect opportunity. He’s got more than enough time to get his fix, and it’s the only substitute he’ll accept for missing an evening without his eyes you.

When the lock finally pops, hands fumbling for the knob, he miscalculates his strength and sends himself tripping into your room. Quickly but quietly shutting the door behind him, clicking your lock back into place before standing straight, hands falling to his side.

The rush of standing in your room crashes over him like a wave, dizzy and disoriented as he takes you in.

He can’t believe he’s here.

In your room.

It doesn’t feel real, an out-of-body experience. A dream. His dream.

He doesn’t dare move for a full minute, breathing heavily as he fidgeted in his spot.

When he finally works up the courage to move, he inches himself towards your captivating things. A gloved finger grazes across your dresser as he inspects the belongings scattered on its surface.

He picks up a perfume, carefully uncapping it and bringing it up to his nose. With a deep inhale, his eyes flutter shut as he takes the scent of you in.

Immediate warmth pools in the pit of his stomach, already straining against the give in his pants. He spritzes into the air, the sun shining through the slats in your blinds catching on the cloud of mist. He’s hoping your scent will linger with him during his stay. He snaps the cap on with a satisfying pop and ensures he places it down exactly where he found it, cautious to leave little indication of his visit.

A shimmer catches his attention, eyes drawn to a dainty necklace. Two fingers lift it in the air, letting its reflection sparkle while he inspects the metal. He wants to put it in his pocket, a little trinket of his visit. Something to remind him that it wasn’t a dream. A piece of you to bring him comfort whenever he’s away from you. A good luck charm.

He resists the urge, placing it back on the dresser in a pile of intricate looped chains.

Your hairbrush is next, shaky fingers wrapping around the handle. His thumb skims over the bristles, watching them through half-lidded eyes as they rhythmically spring back into place. He inspects the glossy stray strands left behind in a tangled mess, imagining you gliding the brush through your gorgeous hair, your fingers following in its wake as you hum a soft tune.

He’s setting all your things down carefully, not only because he doesn’t want to leave evidence behind, but because he knows the worth of your priceless treasures.

He leans down, giving him a closer view of a polaroid taped to the edge of your mirror. You and a friend, eyes crinkled with big cheesy smiles plastered on your faces, arms wrapped around each other in a close embrace. Konig finds himself smiling at the photo, touching the border with the pad of his finger. He wishes that was him next to you, him you were embracing tightly, him you were happy just to sit next to each other on a night out.

He steadily slides a dresser drawer out, mindful to the sound of wood scraping against itself. Inside he finds your pajamas. He pulls his gloves off with his teeth, reaching in to stroke the material with his knuckle.

He grabs the shirt on top, oversized and well-worn. Broken in and softened over hundreds of restful nights. He brings it to his face and takes another inhale, getting high off the smell of your fabric softener and the image of you drowning in the shirt.

Once you’re in his grasp, he’ll make sure you only sleep in his shirts, liebe. Exposed thighs and legs peeking out from beneath his shirt that barely clings to your shoulders. A clear representation of the size difference between you two. A reminder to you of just how small and powerless you are compared to him.

He brushes the fabric against his stubbled jaw to know what it would feel like to rest his head on your shoulder. To bury his face into your chest after a long day. To rest his head on your stomach while you comb your fingers through his hair.

He wants to take it with him. Cut eye holes and replace his hood with it so that he can wear your shirt over his head every day, high off your scent as he inhales you in with each breath he takes.

He gently folds the shirt and puts it back into its place, closing the drawer before moving on to another. He thumbs through the rest of your clothes until he gets to a drawer that makes him freeze, heart stopping and fingers still laced around the handle of your dresser drawer.

Your panties.

His cock is at full attention now, painfully hard and leaking precum. Trembling hands make a slow descent, meticulously choosing his favorite. He holds them up to get a better look, picturing you filling them out, just as you were last night. The lower half of your ass peeking out to tease him. He didn’t think he would ever be jealous over scraps of cotton, but he knows these panties have kissed your perfect cunt and soaked up your arousal, everything he was entitled to.

He can’t help himself this time, liebe.

You have to understand that he can’t just let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

A reward, for all of the hard work he’s poured into you. For everything he’s sacrificed for you.

He stuffs your panties into his underwear, casual and discreet, as if he were stealing them in front of a crowd. He even looks side to side, just to make sure no one was watching over his shoulder. The feeling of your panties pressed up against his cock had him throbbing, staining the fabric a shade darker with precum. With a slight twitch of his hips, the head of his cock forces against the bundled cloth, electricity sparking through his lower half. He swallows hard, mouth turned cotton.

Konig’s getting intoxicated off of you, less gentle when he rummages through your nightstand. His arousal is taking control now, he’s desperate to uncover more of your dirty little secrets.

He holds a sharp breath, lips parting when he uncovers your vibrator. A deep purple and molded into the shape of bunny ears.

There’s a twinge of jealousy, accompanied by a pull of his lips.

Why use a toy when you can have the real thing, liebe? You don’t need a toy when you have him. He’d pleasure your cunt anytime you ask, lapping at your clit until you’re screaming his name. His tongue coercing orgasm after orgasm until you’re begging for him to stop, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation. He’ll make you regret even asking him to pleasure you.

The jealousy is shelved when he pictures you on your back, legs spread and displaying your perfect pussy for him. Glistening with your arousal, face twisted in euphoria as you sway your hips on the vibrations. Soft moans would spill from your mouth, breathy whispers of Konig’s name on your tongue.

He stumbles backward onto your bed, hand reaching blindly behind him to find the mattress as he studies the soft silicone of your toy.

He can’t help himself anymore. He’s sorry, liebe. His erection borders on painful, balls swollen and cock begging for release.

It’s your fault.

Putting your promiscuous toys and dainty panties on display for anyone to find.

He lies back on your bed that creaks and flexes under his large stature, his head nestling comfortably on your pillow.

He fumbles the button of his pants, sloppily freeing his cock from the restraint of his waistbands. He wraps the jumbled mess of your panties around his shaft, holding the fabric in place as he grasps his base and steadily pumps himself.

You’re straddling him, cunt grinding against him through drenched panties. Biting your lip while you rock your clit on him, looking down at him with eyes glazed with lust.

He’s had enough of your teasing, liebe. He’ll punish you for working him up like this.

Yanking your panties to the side, lubing the tip of his swollen dick on your slicked rim. Tight grip indenting the flesh of your hips as he forces you down on his thick cock, watching your face twist while you strain to work around his girth. The biggest you’ve ever had. He has to train you, stretch out your tight little cunt so you can handle a good pounding. He’ll ruin that cunt, leave you a gaping cum-filled mess for any other man that dares to try. No one else will ever compare once he’s finished with you.

“Konig, I can’t-”

“You will.”

You’re soaking, liebe, just a wet little mess dripping down his pulsing cock.

His fingers slide down to your thighs, nails digging into you once you’re flush with the base of his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you struggle to take him.

“Look at me.”

You obey like the good girl you’re supposed to be, looking to him with pitiful, pleading eyes as he lifts you, a sharp gasp escaping when he buries fully into you.

He holds you in place with a strict grip, hovering inches above him while he thrusts up, mercilessly fucking your hole like the cock sleeve you are.

Choking on your moans, overstimulated by a mixture of pain and pleasure that has you squeezing around him.

“Take it like a braves Mädchen.”

A sob leaves you as he pounds into you, limply doubling over before he catches your upper arms, propping you up like a rag doll.

“Alle meine. You understand me, brat? All mine.”

A raw cry scratches the back of your throat, tits bouncing relentlessly against your ribs as he tortures your g-spot. An involuntary whimper rhythmically with each thrust, arms sore from Konig’s harsh grasp.

He forces you forward, bending you at your core so he can catch one of your nipples in his mouth with a tight suck. He doesn’t waver from his strict plunges into your cunt as his tongue eagerly circles the sensitive bud. The pleasure amplifies under the stimulation, he can tell by the roll of your eyes and the way you collapse in his arms, hypnotized by his power and stuttering out his name with broken breath. Giving yourself to him.

A brain dead, cock drunk little slut.

His hand snakes around the back of your head to grab a fist full of hair, a stiff yank forcing your neck to crane and pulling him off your tit with a pop. His spit turns cool over your nipple, tightening the pink flesh with a chill down your spine. Nails scratching desperately into his glistened chest, begging for mercy.

You won’t get any from him, little girl.

You’re his.

A toy to dump his cum into, a wet hole for him to ruin, a doll to control.

The clapping of slicked flesh on flesh fills the room, tugging your hair down to keep you from wiggling away from the ruthless fucking. Your swollen clit slaps against his mound with each bottom out, intertwining with the unforgiving pleasure of your abused g-spot and knitting into a cruel euphoria.

“Listen to your pathetic moans. Everyone will know who you belong to.”

The hand gripping your hair releases suddenly, repositioning to clench around your throat, silencing your moans with a threatening squeeze.

Your eyes snap open, an intoxicating fear spread on your features as your eyes beg for release. Pointlessly clawing at his grip, fighting for your stolen breath. He’s addicted to the way your horror steadily builds with each passing second he doesn’t let go.

He waits until your expression loosens, until your eyes cross and you’re seeing double. When he morphs into a blurry figure, floating farther and farther away from you, and the only thing you can possibly focus on is the brutal pounding of your cunt.

He lets you go seconds before you faint, cunt squeezing down on him with each desperate cough for breath. He grabs onto two fistfuls of ass, spreading you apart. Opening that cunt, making sure to fill you to the brim with each slam into you.

“Ko- gn’na cum!”

“Beg for it.”

A desperate, breathless cry tears your throat.

“Please, Konig! Please!”

A hand winds back, full palm returning to give a harsh smack to your ass. When you gasp in surprise, his grip tightens threateningly, voice lowered to a vicious growl.

“Address me properly.”

“Pl-” You’re briefly distracted by the rhythmic pounding, trailing off before he leaves another imprint of his hand on your ass.

“Please, Colonel! I-” The words get stuck in your throat, but your desperation pushes them through, so raw and pleading it doesn’t register to you as your own voice. You let off on a whine, eyes screwing shut while your body is degradingly shaken under the powerful bucks of his hips.

“Do it, brat. Cum.”

He watches your face contort, mouth fully gaped, suddenly radio silent as you convulse on his cock. He doesn’t let up on you, taking advantage of your walls tightening around him.

When your voice returns, you’re squeaking out anguished whimpers, squirming away from the progression into overstimulation.

He doesn’t let up. Your pleasure is nothing but collateral, liebe. He’ll use you until he’s finished. Bully you with his fat cock, ignoring your weak begging and futile attempts to pry yourself from his grasp.

It’s the harsh ripples of his orgasm - the warm droplets of his cum landing on his stomach, the sound of him choking on a hitched breath in the dead silence of your bedroom - that shocks him back into his pathetic reality.

Tensed muscles relax seconds after he’s milked the last of his intense finish, his sweat and shame wrapping him in a suffocating blanket.

He’s defiled you, liebe. A slimy creep, breaking into your sacred space and getting off in your bed. Where you lay your head after a long day, hiding from the world under these cozy covers. He’s tainted the sanctity of an angel’s hollow.

A disgusting, selfish pervert.

He buries his face into your pillow, breathing you in as he catches his breath and wipes away his mess with your panties.

“Tut mir leid.” He whispers into your silken pillowcases. He’s sorry, liebe. He didn’t mean to lose control like this. To let him get this close to you, close enough his depravity bleeds into your personal life. He meant to keep his distance, to keep you safe from him and his degenerative sickness.

But here he is, in your bed, pretending that you’ve welcomed him here. That he was giving you a fucking fit for a whore.

He feels dirty, he wants to shed his skin, to get a fresh start. A life where he never even met you. Where he never gave you full control over him. Where he never succumbed to his atrocious urges.

It’s too late.

You ruined his life.

His best course of action was a shower, to wash away the evidence of his sin and maybe feel clean again. To feel worthy of you again.

To bathe in your scent and take it with him.

To steal just a sliver of your light and wear it proudly.

The warm water soothes his aching muscles, always sore after a long week of strenuous work. He lets the water take him away, calming himself as much as he was capable under the circumstances.

He wonders what you’re up to. Where you’re at, what mess you’ve gotten yourself into without his supervision. Probably in that slutty dress and giving your attention to undeserving men. Flirting with them like a common whore.

The scent of your shampoo wafting in the hot steam eases his racing thoughts, closing his eyes while he massages his hair.

He imagines you’re in the shower with him, insisting to scrub him. He has to lean over so you can reach his head. Gently scratching his scalp, giving him a tingling sensation as you wash him clean from your tiptoes.

You’d scrub his body next, making a careful loop around his neck. Gently soaping his chest, lingering around his strong biceps. Feeling the strength that protects you every day. You’ll slide down to his stomach, attention on his tight abdominal muscles.

It’s his cock you pay the most attention to, stoking him clean, your other hand massaging bubbles onto his balls.

Such a good girl, liebe.

Taking care of him after a hard day.

When you’re done with him, he’d scrub you down, rough hands squeezing soft soapy tits.

He’d take his time with you, making sure to give every inch of you the care it deserves before flipping you around and fucking you ruthlessly against the shower wall, water clapping obnoxiously as he clashes into your thighs.

Such a good girl, liebe.

Taking care of him after a hard day.

Konig finishes his shower, wiping himself down with one of your towels before wrapping it around his waist.

He spends some time poking around your bathroom cabinets, curiously reading the labels on bottles of medicines. Helping himself to your Q-tips, your skin care, your deodorant.

He’s getting closer to the perfect mixture of your scent, liebe. He’ll carry it with him as long as he can, surrounding himself in a cloud of you.

When he’s done drying off & redressing himself, he carefully folds his towel and tucks it into the middle of your stack of clean towels. He bites his lip at the thought of you using the same towel that dried him.

Once he leaves the bathroom, he’s ready to poke through the rest of your things. He starts with the three sliding drawers that support the right side of your desk.

Pens, highlighters, chargers, scissors, tape.

A notebook?

He prays it’s a diary, a glimpse into your internal dialogue. He runs a finger down the thin metal coil of the spiral edge before flipping the cover.

He’s enamored with your handwriting, unique and flawed in its own wonderful way. It crafts inked scribblings documenting your time in training. Meticulously written notes on the processes of your position. He skims through the pages, filled to the brim with dry information.

You’re brilliant, liebe. The amount of knowledge that it takes to fill your shoes speaks to how intelligent you are.

He stops on a page with doodles in the corner, touching the hint of you peeking through dull instructional pages.

When he’s satisfied he plops the notebook back into its drawer and continues his search.

Batteries, a flashlight, a spool of thread.

A book.

He stops to read its spine, running his fingers over the raised title on the cover.

A romance novel?

A dark romance novel.

His heart skips a beat as he flips the book over and reads the summary.

You’re just as filthy and deviant as him, aren’t you liebe?

This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

You want him to follow you, to control you, to dominate you. You want him, don’t you?

He settles onto your bed, back flush with the covers as he nestles into your pillow. He peels the cover back, swiping through the introductory pages with his thumb, eyes attentively soaking in the words of the first chapter.

He’s determined to figure out your ideal man, your perfect idea of romance. This is his guide, he’s sure. Exactly how he should treat you to earn your affection.

The first chapter details a young woman who had finally built her perfect little life. Engaged to a supportive, loving, and devoted fiancé and settled into a cozy home in the suburbs surrounding the city where she worked. Working her dream career, it doesn’t pay much - but isn’t she oh so happy?

The first chapter lulls him, losing interest during the wholesome exposition.

He sets the open book on his chest, arm propping behind his head as he memorizes your room. He closes his eyes, absentmindedly stroking your cozy blankets. Giving a pleased hum as he nuzzles his head further into your pillow.

He wonders what it would be like to fall asleep next to you. To have you nestled into the crook of his arm, cheek pressed to his chest, arm draped over his torso. Flat on your back, his head on your chest as he listens to your heartbeat and soft snoring. Curled on your side, your ass pressed into his cock in a spoon, letting him grind into you as you drift off.

It’s the rattling of your lock that wakes him, his eyes snapping open in a panic and finding your window, sun no longer shining through the gaps in your blinds. He can hear your muffled voice through the door, belongings brushing against the wood as you struggle with your keys. He can’t believe he’s let the time slip through his fingers.

It’s your fault.

He hasn’t gotten a full night's rest in weeks.

It’s an intense scramble to clean up after himself, hands fumbling for your displaced book, vibrator, and soiled panties. He stumbles over his feet in a last ditch attempt to have you avoid spotting him, hoping the sound of your wardrobe door sliding closed is quiet enough to be concealed by the sound of your entrance.

He’s dead-still in his cramped position, terrified he’ll rattle the hangers that held your day clothes surrounding him. You flick on the lamp, a line of light casts a vertical strip on his face, pupil dilating as he peers through the gap in the closet’s doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, loud enough that he’s sure you can hear it.

He has never been this close to you before.

“Look, I know I’m usually chill about shit like this but that was not cool, dude.” You’re talking into your phone, pinched between your raised shoulder and cheek. “You can’t just bail like that without saying anything, my clothes were at your place.”

You take a deep breath, setting your wallet and keys down before kicking off your uncomfortable shoes. Konig’s leering gaze finds your ass as you bend over, one hand gripping the wood of the dresser to steady yourself. You do look good in that dress, liebe. Plump full thighs on display for him, skin tight cut teasing every inviting curve.

Your voice is softened when you speak again, “I’m worried about you, okay? I didn’t like that guy’s vibe. Just, let me know you’re…”

You trail off as you turn around, freezing in your place.

Your attention was caught by the soft blue dress with the intricate azure and yellow flowers, displayed on a hanger Konig had hung on your bedpost.

His gentle nudge.

Shit.

You freeze for a suffocating four seconds, face stone cold as you process the sight. Konig can see your gears turning, his face pinched in hot regret.

“…okay. Call me back.” You whisper, tone no longer strict with annoyance.

You quickly end your call before blindly placing your phone on the dresser behind you, stare locked on to the dress.

“Did I…?” You mumble under your breath, slowly stepping forward and reaching a careful hand out to touch the dress. Your brows furrowed, features drenched in confusion.

You look over your shoulder, and Konig swallows hard. This is it, you’re going to search for the intruder and find him. He’s in for a world of trouble- and that’s only if you don’t kill him first.

Your head turns back to the dress, now holding it with two hands, hem lifting off the floor.

Put it on, liebe.

The fabric slides through your finger as you let it fall into place, returning to your phone and swiping at its screen.

You raise the phone to your ear again, free hand rubbing your fingers together in a fidget. You sway in your spot, eyes darting nervously around the room while waiting through a painfully long set of rings.

“Hey - uh, Lieutenant.” You nervously clear your throat, “Sorry to bother you on the weekend- something kind of weird happened and I uh- I just have a question for you.” You let out a small nervous laugh, “Sorry. Bye.”

You quickly hang up, cheeks flushed as you press the side of your phone to your forehead in a clenched fist. Cringing at yourself for your awkward voicemail with a curse under your breath.

Why is Ghost always the first person you call at the first sign of trouble?

Konig is supposed to be the one who protects you, who keeps you safe.

He has to force his jaw open to keep his teeth from grinding.

You’re fucking him, aren’t you?

It’s all making sense now. Of course Konig hasn’t been able to catch you two in the act, the only way you’d be able to get away with it is by keeping it a secret. If anyone found out about your affair you’d both be discharged. Sneaking around and being intimate when no one’s watching, getting off on the forbidden love of a subordinate and a superior.

Konig can fulfill that fantasy too, y’know.

Konig can see your mind racing from your cramped wardrobe, pacing in your spot while you fidget with your nails. There is just enough doubt on your features, just enough doubt that he thinks he might get away with it. Gaslight you into thinking maybe you did buy the dress. Maybe you made a trip back home in between the mall and the subway. Maybe ‘bad vibe guy’ spiked your drink and made you lose a chunk of your evening.

As soon as Konig’s thighs start to burn from the contorted half-squat he’s in to fit in your wardrobe, there’s a knock on the door. You take a sharp breath, head harshly turning towards the sound. You freeze again, lips parted and eyes squinted in unease.

Another rap at the door, followed by your name spoken in a familiar voice. “You in?”

Ghost.

Got your message and came running to your rescue. Tricking you into accepting him as your knight in shining armor.

His face twitches at the way your shoulders relax when you hear his voice, holding back a smile as you rush to open the door.

“Lieutenant.”

Untelling eyes look you up and down, and you follow his gaze to your outfit, almost surprised that you are still wearing that filthy dress you‘ve been parading yourself in.

That’s why you bought it, isn’t it? You picked it out to show your curves off to him, the professor to your little schoolgirl crush.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry Lieutenant. I-”You let out a nervous laugh as you look over his unreadable face. “I didn’t know you were going to, um, stop by.”

Liar.

“Nice dress.” He says, impossible to tell if he’s being genuine or making fun of you. Konig’s not sure which he prefers, but his jaw shakes at the very sound of his voice.

“I just got back from a night out.” You explain, words pouring quickly in a desperate attempt to save character.

“I can tell.” He says, flat and gravely. He gives you grace by changing the subject, eyes peering over you and scanning your room, “Got your message.”

“Oh, yeah. No, it’s uh, it’s probably fine. Sorry to put you out.”

“It was quite the journey from across the hall.”

Your voice raises an octave when you try to sound forced casual, “You didn’t go in my room, did you? It’s just, you’re the only one with a key.”

The thought of Ghost having a key to your place makes him sick to his stomach. He’s probably already been here, already dug through your things to get his filthy hands all over your belongings.

He could sneak into your room at any moment, liebe. Inviting him to break in and take advantage of you.

An eyebrow raises, the extent of his expression, “No.”

Your fingers rub together again, “Are the guys- are they hazing me or something? I mean, it’s fine if they are. I get it, new guy and all- but I just need to know before I lose my mind.”

“What’s going on?” He asks, cutting straight to the chase when he hears the distress creeping in on your rambled words.

You clear your throat, looking over your shoulder, “That dress.” You say, looking to it and trailing off.

“Pretty.” He says, not straying from his uninterested tone.

Konig’s face twitches when Ghost compliments the dress.

It’s not for him.

“Yes- it is.”

“Having a fashion show?”

“No,” You give another timid laugh before your nerves make your face slink. “I didn’t buy it?” You finish on a high, unsure note, “The dress wasn’t here when I left, right? And then I come home - and here’s the dress.”

“An unusual form of hazing.”

“No, no- that’s not the weirdest part.” You point to it again, “I went shopping today, and that dress - I saw the dress, I stopped to look at it. That exact dress. I didn’t buy it, at least- I think I didn’t buy it.” You clench a hand into a fist, “I’m sure I didn’t buy it. I just got home and there it was.”

Ghost doesn’t speak, just looks down his nose at you.

Your hand flops dramatically to your side, head turning away, “You think I’m crazy.”

He says the first thing all night you can tell he means.

“I believe you.”

Your eyes perk up, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. The same way you had looked to Konig in his dream. The same spark of appreciation that Konig was entitled to.

And you’re giving it to Simon fucking Riley for doing the bare minimum.

Konig’s the one who got you the dress, liebe.

Ghost doesn’t give you gifts, Ghost doesn’t love you like Konig does.

He shifts in your doorway, arms crossing and head slightly tilted to the side. “You think someone broke into your quarters?”

“I… guess? I’m more worried that I am losing it. That I did buy it and I just, I just forgot.”

He takes a moment to analyze you, skimming over your nightclub attire before finding your face again, “You drinking?”

You hold a hand out, almost like you’re physically stopping his train of thought, “I know what you’re thinking, I only had two. I’m a lightweight, but, c’mon. Not enough to forget.”

He doesn’t say anything, making his silent judgments through half-lidded eyes.

Your tightly pressed fingers raise to touch your lip.

“Oh, I’m losing it, aren’t I?” You say with a whine, hand falling dejectedly to your side.

“You’re not losing it, soldier.”

“I’m losing it.”

“No. Listen to me.” He uncrosses his arms to hold a finger in your direction, “You’re not losing it.”

Konig can’t believe he’s talking to you like this. Stern, strict, and commanding you like Konig should be doing. Squashing the doubt that would safeguard his plan.

“The boys are probably just fucking with you. I’ll talk to them, yeah?”

You nod, slow at first but then more assuredly, “Yes, yeah.” You close your eyes, words relaxing with a sigh, “You’re right. Sorry, again, for bothering you.”

“No bother.” His head tilts again, “You alright?”

“All-left, apparently.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t want to take your time. I’m okay.”

“I don’t mind.”

Don’t give in, liebe. He’s just looking for an excuse to leer at you in that dress. To come into your sacred room, to get a look at your precious things.

Your eyes flick to the floor before back to him, “Ah, okay. Sure.”

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” You ask when you turn away from him, giving him space to come in.

You’re always so thoughtful. Ghost doesn’t deserve you.

“No.” Ghost steps in while carefully eyeing your room. He inspects your window, nonchalantly checking over the locks before tugging at it to make sure it’s secured.

“No fun Saturday night plans, Lieutenant?” You asked with a cheeky smile, smoothing out your blanket to sit on your bed, feet dangling off the side.

“Not as fun as yours.” He says, eyes falling on your dress and lingering there a little too long for Konig’s liking. Ghost straightens out, leaning against your dresser to face you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, adjusting the sleeve of your shoulder, “A friend dragged me on a night out.” You move to stand, moving towards the dresser Ghost blocked, “Not my usual getup. I’ll change.”

“Don’t feel obligated on my account.” He says dryly.

He doesn’t have your modesty in mind, liebe. Looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. He just wants you on display for him, a trophy.

You look at him, briefly attempting to decipher an underlying meaning of his statement. You glance to the guarded drawers before backing up to your spot on the bed. You tug the bottom of your dress down, eyes fixed on the ceiling as a stiff silence falls over you three.

“My friend, uh, set me up on a blind date.” You say after a clear of your throat, desperate to rid the awkward pause. You give him a small laugh, “It was terrible.”

“That so?”

You kick your foot, smiling at the ground, “Yeah, a friend of this guy she’s really into. All he talked about was basketball, and he didn’t ask me a single question about myself. I don’t think he even knew what my name was.” You roll your eyes, “And a bit too touchy-feely if you ask me.”

Konig’s sorry, liebe. That he wasn’t there to protect you. The thought of you being all alone on a terrible date makes him sick to his stomach. He’s sorry he’s allowed this to happen. He gave you too much slack on your leash, he should have kept you reined in.

“Must be difficult to gauge a woman’s comfort level when NC State is doing so poorly this season.”

You snort, happy to lighten the tension, “They’re actually doing pretty well. 4-1, apparently.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

Ghost gives an amused scoff, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve ever gotten from him. It catches your attention, and to his dismay Konig watches you purse your lips to hide a pleased smile.

Kick him out already.

“My friend ditched me, so I had to sit through all of the strategies the Celtics should have implemented last year, and she never even came back.”

“Mm, abandoned the buddy system. No good.”

“No good! Thank you. I had to walk home in stupid shoes I borrowed that don’t fit.”

“Now that’s just torture. Maybe we should start implementing that in boot camp.”

You deliver the laugh drenched in sarcasm, “Hah hah.”

“Next time, call me. We’ll do a full EVAC.”

That was Konig’s job.

You roll your eyes again, “I can handle myself.”

He gives a shrug and a shake of his head, “Don’t count out the buddy system.”

You pull your legs up on the bed next to you, thighs pressed together and bent almost underneath you. You look like you’re on a fucking casting couch, peering up at Ghost through thick eyelashes with those doe eyes, just begging for him to pin you down and expose what little of you was hidden under that dress.

“You really don’t have to stay.”

His eyes find the blue dress, still hanging on the bedpost, before he looks back to you, “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

The faintest blush spreads on your face, hesitating in your response.

“Smoke?” He asks after a few seconds, much to your relief.

“God, yes. Let me change quick.” You commit to shooing him from your dresser this time, pulling out the first shirt on top. The shirt Konig had touched to his cheek hours before, the unknowing and indirect touch filling him with a satisfying thrill. You grab a pair of sweatpants and disappear into the bathroom, leaving Konig to keep a close watch on Ghost through the crack in his wardrobe.

He starts eyeing your possessions, unworthy eyes befouling your priceless things.

Konig has to close his eyes to rid the sight. Stifling the urge to reveal himself and snap Ghost’s spine over his knee. He hates him, hates how he’s always coercing you from Konig’s safety, sneaking you away for the chance to get his hands on you. He’s never loathed someone more.

You’re just an empty-headed bimbo who bats her eyes and whores herself out for any man who pays attention to you. You’re too stupid to realize just how slimy he is.

Konig opens his eyes with the scrape of your bathroom door, watching Ghost follow you out to the hall.

Konig sighs a long breath once you’re both out of sight, he doesn’t know how long he’s been holding it. His fingers grip your things like he's trying to destroy them.

Fucking Ghost.

At least you changed out of that dress. The way Ghost’s attention drew to your chest and legs at every opportunity left him tensed in a seething rage.

Konig finally moves, taking his chance to stuff your cum-soaked panties and vibrator into his waistband, flexing the fingers that cramped up from his awkwardly clasped hands. He sets the book at his feet, popping his knuckles and stretching his legs while he considers the choice he has to make.

Does he sneak out now? You hadn’t suspected the wardrobe, now that you’ve changed you shouldn’t be digging in your closet until morning. He’s sure he’s sufficiently camouflaged, but there’s still the risk you’ll find him. This is his window to escape without consequence. He’d be able to supervise your smoke break, but he wouldn’t be able to sneak back in to watch the rest of your evening.

It’s the thought that Ghost might follow you back into your room, that he might try to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state, that keeps him in his spot.

Dread pools in his stomach when he’s away from you, knowing you’re under a predator’s stare. He’s probably got his hands all over you right now. He’s seen your thighs that beg for touch, your tits popping out of that dress that invites groping, a waist asking for a strong grip. Flirting desperately and using that charm that comes naturally to invite him to take you.

He’s stealing the attention Konig was owed. Basking in your light and adoration while he has to hide in the shade, longing for your soft warmth instead of this heat of irritability that boils under his skin. He pushes your day clothes from him in frustration, face twitching as he sifts through all of the worst case scenarios.

It takes you too long to return, Konig’s blackhole of obsessive thoughts intensifying with each minute you’re tangled in Ghost’s web.

“I hope not.” You say as you return, the smell of smoked tobacco clouding the room and singeing Konig’s nose.

“Here.”

Konig’s face pulls when Ghost takes the dress from you, manhandling and wrinkling the delicate fabric. It’s nauseating to watch him lay hands on Konig’s gift.

You’re supposed to wear his dress, liebe. Burn that slutty black dress, and accept the guidance you need. Give him even the slightest bit of control from you.

The rejection stings, turning him weak in the knees as the blood drains from his face. It tears his chest wide open watching you give his gift away like it was nothing. His face burns with humiliation, the prick of betrayal drying the back of his throat.

This is what he gets for going out of his way for you? For giving you a token of his affection? For the love and care he’s poured into you?

Fuck you.

You don’t get to make him feel this way. You don’t get to run from him when he knows what’s best for you.

“You want this back when I’m done?”

“Uhm,” You stare at it for a moment, the corner of your lip perking up ever so slightly, “Sure, yeah. It’s uh, it really is pretty.”

Konig swallows, eyebrows pinching and elated grin immediately plastered on his face.

You do like it?

Oh, liebe. He’s sorry he doubted you.

You do want him.

You can be a good girl for him, accept Konig’s redirection. You want to wear his dress for him, you want Konig to own you and teach you how to behave.

He can’t wait to see you in it.

“Will do.”

“Thanks for uh, y’know.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Night Lt.”

“Goodnight.”

When the door snaps shut behind you, Ghost sent packing, and Konig’s grin spreads.

You crawl into your bed, the same bed Konig had defiled hours earlier.

For thirty minutes you scroll on your phone, but Konig is happy just to watch your facial expressions as you react to the things on your screen. You watch silly videos, occasionally giggling at the content.

This part is just for him.

It sounds so wonderful to hear your laugh, liebe. He imagines it’s him making you giggle, a blush and coy smile as a result of a joke he made.

This is his favorite part of the day, when you settle in and he can watch you be your genuine self. It’s comforting to be with you while you unwind, he knows this is what it will be like once he has you, how you’d spend the evenings once you’re together.

And he gets to have his good girl all to himself.

The shower is the hardest part.

In addition to praying the evidence of his shower has fully drained, he knows you’re just a few feet away, completely naked and soaking wet. His cock twitches at the thought, still sensitive from his orgasm.

You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?

Teasing him like this.

He wants to follow you into the shower, see if he can peek at you from over the shower curtain. Offer to scrub you down, groping you like you’ve been asking for. Fuck you, how you deserve to be fucked.

His brow quirks when he spots your phone resting on the nightstand, charging after a long day out.

He waits until the sounds of the water hitting the ceramic loses rhythm, droplets now flowing down your body instead of raining on the tub.

He’s got time.

He takes a deep inhale before working open the wardrobe doors as stealthily as he can, cursing the creak of the wood under his shifting weight.

Mindful footsteps get him to your nightstand, shaking hands picking up your phone. With a push of your lock button the screen is illuminated, and his breath catches. He can’t believe you’ve left your secrets unattended for anyone to steal. How careless of you.

Your background is adorable, he can’t help but smile at the glimpse into an expression of your personality.

He swipes at the screen and his smile falls flat at the demand for a passcode.

Why do you always have to make things so difficult for him?

He huffs in frustration before he locks your device, using the dark screen and light from the lamp to search for fingerprints.

There’s a bunch towards the bottom, evidence of your fingers typing precious messages to your loved ones.

He needed those messages.

Konig thinks he can tell which smudges are your passcode. He’s got 6 possible numbers for a 4-digit code, and no way to tell which order.

He curses under his breath. He’s looking for a pattern. A birthday, a year, a sequence.

He’s got nothing.

You couldn’t have made it 1234?

He returns your phone to its spot. He’ll figure out your passcode, liebe. He’ll wait until he’s close enough to watch you enter it, get his fingers on it when you’re inevitably acting careless.

You don’t get to hide things from him anymore, liebe.

He’s earned it. You’ve lost the privilege of privacy.

This is a new level of immoral behavior, and now that he’s this close - he refuses to distance himself from you.

A rush so thrilling he can’t ignore it, a newly conquered high he’s never dared to risk, without the willpower to walk away from it.

It’s too late for you, liebe. He’s bleeding into you now, his sickness spreading into your life and infecting you like ink on cloth.

You’re his.

You just didn’t know it yet.

His (Part One)

Somethings Borrowed - Another Stalker!Konig Fic

The Girl Who Conquered the Mountain [Hunger Games AU] - Outcast!König x Reader

Meine Perle - Octo!Konig

Masterlist