fluidthoughts

[fluidthoughts]

His bed is a little too small

Another imagination of sleep with Konig, enjoy your comfort after ending the mission with Konig

the little guy is his son : ) (I saw a video of Konig lifting up his mask and showing his little toy" his son" to you, and I CAN'T GET RID OF HOW CUTE IT IS)

[fluidthoughts]

Apocalypse with König

Part 1: Word count: 9475

There's a little bit of gore, mentions kidnapping, weight loss due to lack of food

You'd found him on the road.You'd been planning on making it to your grandparents, since they were in the country. You figured you'd be safer with them if they were still alive and if not you'd at least have a house, maybe their food was still good. They had a greenhouse and so maybe you'd even be able to figure it out.

You hadn't expected to find anyone on your way. Especially since everyone of importance had been evacuated to quarantined cities, and most of the other people who hadn't made the cut had either: started or turned. An unlucky few probably fell prey to the military, and other people who had decided it was better if everyone was dead.

The motorways were mostly deserted and as much as you were out in the open, you felt safe enough. There were deserted cars for cover, which you'd pick through, and sometimes get lucky in finding a first aid kit or something wearable.

You'd lost your mother and siblings in the chaos of the first days, you hadn't heard from them in months and figured…hoped they'd gotten to safety. You knew deep down that they'd probably died looking for you but it was, and still is, easier to hope.

You'd never been great at maps but you could remember places from how they looked and the road signs were all relatively intact. Unlike the movies with zombies, the government hadn't tried bombing or burning down populated areas. They'd simply taken the rich and important and hid them, stowed them away, and left the regular people to die. At the start there were churches and homeless shelters trying to help; Taking in traveling families and stragglers, trying to at least; especially, in their own cities but all it took in those places was for one infected to get in and they'd all be gone.

You'd tried one for a while, even made a few friends, but you'd barely managed to get out with your own life so you didn't figure anyone else had.

When you found König, him finding you might be more apt but still, you were running low on water. You didn't trust yourself to leave the main roads and since you hadn't come across any running water you didn't have the chance. It was autumn so you'd scavenged blackberries from the bushes on the side of the road and occasionally you'd come across a granola bar in one of the cars but other than that you'd been hungry and tired. Sleeping in cars hadn't done you much good either.

It has been quiet, eerily so. You hadn't come across an infected in at least a few days, which had surprised you but you didn't want to jinx your sudden good luck. Dealing with the infected was hard, at least before him it was. They were often stronger than you, and even if they weren't they were hell bent on ending you. You had managed to get your hands on a hatchet from the back room of a hardware store somewhere along the road.

You were sleeping in the back of an abandoned car before you heard his footsteps. You weren't sure if he'd seen you or not, you hoped not. Most people on the road were desperate, like you, so they were often willing to use whatever force they deemed necessary. Of the bodies on the road, at least the ones you'd come across in the past few days, only a few of them were probably due to being infected, the rest had various stab wounds; while others had arrows sticking out of them- You wondered who had provoked who.

The memories of all the dead you'd passed on the road in the last few days came flooding back. You had thought, at the time, that the chances of the guy who was practically stomping around out there, was probably the guy who killed all of those people; People like you, who were just trying to get from point A, to B. You tried to stay low hoping that he wouldn't see you. you could just about see him in the rear view mirror.

He was tall, like really tall and very built. The bruising on some of the bodies made more sense considering the size of him. You waited until he had disappeared completely from view before you got the courage to open the door.

It opened more quietly than you had expected, much to your appreciation. You pushed forward, essentially following the man. He was slow and gradually more meticulous the further along the road he got. When he had passed you he was just casting fleeting glances around the sea of deserted cars but now he has started peering through the glass and checking under cars. You had managed to stay relatively out of sight or at least you thought you had.

You hid behind a car when he turned back on himself. You hoped he wouldn't see you. He didn't move for a while and then he chuckled deeply. You heard what sounded like the creaking of a slowly deteriorating car as he assumably lowered his weight onto the hood. “I know you're there maus” his accent was heavy but his voice was definitely not what you'd expected. You'd expected deep and gravely. It had only met one of your expectations.

Regardless, his acknowledgement of your presence made your blood run cold. You were already on edge, the lack of food and good sleep had left you in a state of near constant anxiety. You didn't say anything in response hoping that maybe he would just forget about it and leave you alone. “Come out, kleine maus” his voice was softer this time but he was still a threat.

Maybe if you managed to surprise him ,If you injured him enough then he wouldn't be able to come after you. You settled on making a run for it.

You often wonder if things would be different now, if you had chosen to attack him instead of trying to outrun him. If maybe you would have joined the bodies on the road or even made it to your grandparents.

It ate at you for the first few months with him. You resented him for taking you away from the road, for being nice to you when you treated him with such venom. For keeping you there, at first you had felt like a prisoner, refused to talk to him- look at him; even to eat for the first few days but that didn't last as long as you'd hoped it would.

You'd hated him for months. Despised him so entirely that you couldn't count the number of times you'd considered his death.

You'd attempted to escape a few times only to end up lost in the dark, then thrown over his shoulder the next morning when he'd somehow find you.

You hated it. Hated him for it. Just hated everything. In hindsight it made sense, he was probably just lonely and really, you were too but at the time it felt like hell.

When he brought you back; Originally, you'd kicked and screamed doing no real damage past hurting his ears. You did the same every other time he found you. You both had a routine by your third escape; he would find you curled up under a tree, trying not to freeze to death (after the second time he started putting out wooly clothes, in case you tried to run off again) and then he would carry you back to the house. You'd be locked in the sitting room for about 10 minutes, before he'd open the door and wait for you to walk through it. When you inevitably refused, he would just throw you over his shoulder again.

You would be put down in the bathroom next to a hot bath, which you would refuse on the grounds that you don't want to like him. Despite him being incredibly nice to you (past the kidnapping part) you didn't want to like him. You found out after the first night that he'd give you about an hour; in that hour , you assumed, he hoped you would bathe but when he came back he'd always find you wherever he left you- which for the first few times was the floor but later became a rocking chair.

It was a nice chair, rustic. It looked almost as if it had been hand carved, probably not but maybe. After his failed attempt at a bath he would move onto food.

In between your attempts to run away, you'd begrudgingly accept food. Usually, it would go cold before you would even consider touching it, but it was never too long before you to got sick of ignoring how your stomach growled.

You assume he took note of what you liked eating or at least did his best, because more often than not there were things you liked on your plate. You're not sure how he knew really, if it was how quickly you ate or which order you chose to eat things. He never really said anything, not that you would have responded but still.

Since the last time, you'd been trying to figure it out, racking your brain and trying to remember which way he had walked on the first day. If you ran fast enough you could probably make it back to the road, or you would end up terribly lost and scared and utterly screwed.

You waited until all movement in his room had ceased and then made a break for it. He hadn't taken any of your stuff. You thought that it was because he found you entirely unthreatening or he thought you were too weak to use it- either way it pissed you off. Sure you'd been living on scraps long enough for it to take its toll on your body but you weren't weak. Boney, sure but weak? No.

You managed to get out of the house with ease, as much as you thought he'd kidnapped you; he gave you free range of the house and the garden. It was nice, you could see yourself living there if it wasn't for him.

You make it to the forest and come to the conclusion that it was downright idiotic to try this again. The leaves of the trees made such a thick canopy that they all but separated the sky from ground, so much so that when you made your way into the forest you could barely make out your hand in front of your face.

You ignored the ringing sound in your ears and the way your heartbeat was hammering in your chest . You grip the hatchet you'd found on your trip and venture deeper into the forest. You hadn't heard any howls as of yet, so that was a good sign- it was actually relatively still.

You made your way deeper and deeper. Sinking slowly into the monotonous task of walking and the comfort of silence. You came to what looks to be the center of the forest, you can't remember whether you had come this way when he took you from the motorway.

The bushes behind you rustled and panic seeped into you. You recognised the uneven steps and incoherent muttering almost immediately- infected. You freeze, maybe it wouldn't see you. You thought you only heard one set of shuffling feet. Maybe it wasn't even coming in that direction, maybe you would have gotten away but your luck was never that good.

A scrawny, unkempt man stumbled out from the bushes. You tried to stay completely still but it was no use, he'd either spotted you or heard you earlier. His gaze was trained on you. He was probably about 17 before he got it, he was missing a shoe. It would have been funny if it wasn't for your impending doom.

He'd stopped muttering, the froth around his mouth dropped down his chin as he drooled. The government had tried experimenting on the first hundred-ish infected. The only thing they had determined was that it was similar to rabies. There were some consistent traits, infected wouldn't go near water, you could even hear them screaming whenever it rained. At first it had upset you listening to them wail but it had become a regular occurrence especially since it was autumn then.

It was all good and well knowing that they didn't like water but it did you no use then. You didn't know where the nearest source of water was. You couldn't hear the sound of a stream or anything similar.

The boy hadn't moved the mixture of froth and drool that had collected around his mouth made you feel sick. It was vile, worse to think that he probably had a family or friends that he probably hurt without even knowing. He had a bite mark right above his ankle, on the foot without a shoe.

You wondered how long he'd been wandering around. If maybe he was like you and he just happened to be less lucky than you. Maybe one of them had gotten him from under a car or while he was sleeping.

He took a step forward and you were forced back to the reality of your situation. That you were probably going to die, in the woods alone. You stepped back almost on instinct. He took another step, then another and then broke out into a full on sprint. You did the same, you bolted forward until the shrubbery got too thick and then wrapped around a tree and came back on yourself.

You looked back to find him only a few feet behind you, he was breathing heavily but quiet. You always hated when they got quiet, meant they were focused, determined. He was probably hungry too.

Your foot caught something as you ran and you hit the floor hard. You scrambled back as fast as you could but he was on you before you could even get up.

That was it, you were gonna die in the forest alone. All because you didn't want to accept help from that shockingly, nice kidnapper.

You locked your arms out in hopes you could hold him back but he was heavy and strong and even though you'd been eating again, you hadn't had time to get much weight back on, let alone muscle.

He wasn't focused on your neck specifically, he was searching around for any exposed flesh. Your mind flicked back to the people you'd seen on the road, the few you had figured weren't by the man. They'd all been missing flesh, the infected here were hungry. They definitely weren't fast enough to catch wildlife and these places didn't get much foot traffic.

You heard a branch snap. It was most likely just a deer or something being far smarter than you and leaving the area before it too got itself killed but for whatever reason the movement had caught the boys attention too. He stopped trying to push towards you and instead looked up at the source of the noise.

A large boot crossed your line of vision before it made contact with the boy. It sent him flying back off of you. He didn't even have time to react before a machete was pushed through his chest. The sound of ribs cracking under the strain made you feel sick, the boy tenses and let out a strained sound. The man twisted the knife, another crack but this time he went limp.

You wanted to be sick, wanted to cry, wanted to run but your chest hurt and your legs wouldn't move. The man looked over at you then back at the body in front him

“Sorry Maus.”

You looked back at him entirely dazed- He'd got a mask on. He had never worn a mask around you before. Looked more like a sheet he'd thrown over his head with some stitched eye holes. It's funny, it should make him less intimidating but the fact that he's upwards of 6’6” eliminated any sort of humour in the situation. 

You were completely frantic and scared. Tears welled in your eyes, you tried to will them back down but you couldn't. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want him to think of you as any weaker than he already did but you couldn't stop them. Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were relieved but still so terrified. 

You looked past the wall of a man in front of you and watched the boy's body twitch. He was definitely dead but that didn't make it better. You felt sick, disgusted by the sight of his mangled chest. Plus the adrenaline was leaving your body faster than you would have hoped. It left you aware of how fast your heartbeat was, how much your arms hurt from having to hold him back and a dull throbbing in your wrist. 

He retracted his hand and made his way over to a log. He sat facing you, you couldn't make out his eyes under the mask, you didn't even know what colour they were. 

He didn't say anything, just watched you. He didn't speak; didn't make any more moves towards you- just sat there and watched. It was weird but you felt safer having him there. Maybe it was because he'd saved your life or because it was in his interest just as much as yours to kill the infected on sight but it was still a comfort.

You eventually pulled yourself up from the floor, you did your best to avoid putting pressure on your wrist. With the last of the adrenaline having worn off, the dull ache had morphed into shooting pains. 

He watched you get up, probably watched how your legs trembled slightly. “Nobody's keeping you here Maus” His voice was soft, nice and somewhat familiar. He didn't talk much, at least not to you, but he'd mutter around the house or humm songs in what you assumed was German. 

You immediately started off walking in a direction you hoped was the motorway but there was no way to tell.The forest was thick and it was dark and there could be more infected; not to mention the  state of your wrist. It wasn't going to be much use to you if it was broken. You barely made it out of the clearing before you stopped and turned to look at the man still on the log. 

He cocked his head to one side and examined you. You had supported your damaged wrist with the other arm and lifted it to dull the throbbing, at least a little. Not that it had helped much but still you had tried. 

“You're hurt?” He sounded almost amused by it. That had annoyed you, how was any of this funny? You had almost died and he was amused by it or maybe it was the crying- either way it pissed you off to no end.  

You moved to flip him off but it sent waves of pain up your arm. Maybe it was broken. He watches you wince and lets out an amused huff. 

“So yes?” he still sounded the same, slightly softer after watching you wince but still. You bet he had a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Why the mask?” It's the first thing you had said to him since you met. It seemed to shock him. He took a while to answer you. 

“Military. Used to be part of my uniform.” It didn't really explain much past the sheer size of him. Actually it didn't explain anything at all. He wasn't still in the military since it didn't exist anymore and you had absolutely no context to why he put on the mask in the first place. You nodded regardless. 

You weren't really sure what you wanted. If you wanted to go back to the house where you knew it was at least safe or if you wanted to run. Ok you did know, you had wanted to run but that feeling of safety he had, unfortunately,  presented you with made you want to stay. You hadn't felt truly safe in months and it was nice, even if you didn't want the source of safety to be him. 

“What are you doing, Maus?” It was as if he could tell what you were thinking. Maybe he could. 

“What?” You responded quickly. Pretending to be confused by the vague question. 

“You wanted to leave, no? This is your chance. Leave.” he sounded a little flat, there was always something to his voice when he spoke, some sort of emotion but it was gone. “Nobody is going to stop you Maus.”

You're not sure why but it upset you, that he was suddenly so flat. “What happens if I stay?” 

His head fell to the side. “Change of heart?” 

You nodded. Really you just wanted to not be attacked. You didn't exactly enjoy life on the road, not that you enjoyed life with him any more but at least you didn't have to deal with the stresses of the road if you stayed. 

“So I don't have to carry you back?” He chuckled and you just nodded again. It had become part of your ritual, a part that you didn't want to admit you enjoyed but it was fun to see him lift you with such ease.

Still, it wouldn't have made sense to make him carry you back after you agreed not to run off. “No.” You nodded and got up from the log, you kept your arm in your clutches, it still throbbed. 

The walk back was entirely silent. You kept your eyes trained on the floor and he walked slightly ahead of you. You weren't sure why at the time but you had appreciated it. 

When you got back, he fell right back into his old routines. You found yourself back in the living room, although this time when he had gone to lock the door he paused and simply left instead. You considered following him, watching him draw the bath but you decided against it. You weren't sure why you wanted to be around him, maybe it was the whole saving your life thing or maybe it was because he was sweet. Not that you would ever admit it. 

He came back right on time, around ten minutes and stood at the door waiting for you. You stared back at him, you didn't really know how you wanted to play this. He wasn't keeping you here, so you didn't want to be inconvenient but you still didn't like him. Not that you had as much of a reason to but regardless it didn't change how you felt about him. 

He stared back for a while before he sighed and pushed himself up off of the door frame. You looked back down at your feet and then stood up. You heard his footsteps stop as you got up, he waited for you to look up at him before turning and waking off. 

He looked back after a moment to check that you had followed him, you had. He still had his mask on, you were so curious about it. Once he escorted you to the bathroom he paused at the door. 

“Let me check your arm.” He held his hand out waiting for you to present him with the wrist that was still throbbing.

You looked at him skeptical before you offered your wrist, you flinched when he ran his fingers over it. After a few moments of examination he lets go. 

“I don't think it's broken, and if it is, it's a fracture. I'll put it in a sling later. Just try not to bash it on anything.” He sighed and started to leave.

“I'll be back in-” he started looking back at you as he said it.

“Yeah, 1 hour. I know.” you cut him off. You expected him to be annoyed by this but he wasn't. You could see his eyes crinkle up and he made an exaggerated exhale sound, one that could be mistaken for a laugh. 

“Clean yourself up, Maus.” his tone was lower,softer. He sounded quite nice really. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back down the stairs. For such a large man he was rather quiet. 

You looked around the familiar room; at the bath tub which was filled with hot water and what looked and smelled like rosemary; at the chair in the corner which had a folded up towel resting on the seat; at the door that barracked you from the rest of the house; at the walls that separated you from the outside- from them. 

The thoughts came flooding back to you and you shuddered, thinking about what could and would definitely have happened if…you still didn't know his name. He had a whole nickname for you and you didn't know his name. You felt a little ashamed by that. 

You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that you didn't care about him even if he was really nice to you and clearly cared, at least a little for you. 

Your muscles ached and you would be lying if you said a bath didn't sound good but you were still reluctant to be so vulnerable in such an unfamiliar place. He did say you had one hour and you knew you had one hour. Reluctantly, you started to pull off your shoes. 

Who would it hurt? You were already in pain and if he had wanted anything like that he would have done it already. There was no point stressing, it wasn't going to help anyone, least of all you and you really wanted to not be in total discomfort. Especially not with the sharp pain in your arm. 

Eventually, you had pulled off all but your underwear. Folded all of your clothes in a pile next to the tub. Only now had you realised just how dirty they were, how dirty you were. You dreaded having to put those back on but that was a problem for later. For now you wanted to enjoy warm water and an actually nice smell. 

You looked back at the door once more, still a little paranoid that he would burst in and find you like this. All of those thoughts went away when you lowered your foot into the water. You hadn't had hot water since everything had gone to shit. 

You put the other foot in and then lowered yourself into the water. You sighed audibly as the warm water enveloped your aching body. It was nice, you felt lighter even if the smell wasn't doing anything to help your pounding head. 

You sat back, resting your back against the edge of the back and spreading out. Letting the warm water soothe your body. Gradually, you relaxed more and more. If you weren't so paranoid about a six foot ten man in a mask storming in on you, you would have stayed there forever. 

You didn't let yourself relax for too long since your mind had drifted back to the boy, so you busied yourself with washing all of the dirt from your skin. You watched the water gradually go from clear to a milky brown, as you scrubbed the dirt from the skin and hair. It felt nice to be clean and to smell of something other than sweat. You looked up at the ceiling and tried to figure out how long you'd been in the water. It must have been coming up to an hour now.

If you listened really carefully you could hear him pattering about in the kitchen. You managed to pull yourself out of the embrace of the slowly cooling water when you heard the pattering switch to slow footsteps up the stairs. When he reached the door he knocked, you panicked even though you had already wrapped yourself in the towel he had left on the chair. 

He opened the door a crack, clearly waiting for some indicator that you weren't still nude or in the bath. 

“Maus?” He seemed unsure. Whatever semblance of confidence he had, had left his tone. 

“I'm decent.” you assured him. You heard him puff out a little sigh of relief at that and he opened the door the rest of the way. He was holding a roll of bandages.

“You bathed.” he seemed both shocked and entirely unsurprised. You just nodded and looked down at your feet and the gradually expanding pool of water around them.

“I've got the sling.” He laughed at himself. “It's not a sling yet but-” He trailed off and looked down.

“I can do it later if you want Maus.” You shook your head and let him sling your arm, his hands felt warm on your skin and the fabric clung to the water still dripping from your hair. It wasn't so bad though, since some of the pressure on your arm was finally gone.

Your eyes drifted to the pile of clothes you had stacked by the bath. You really didn't want to have to put muddy clothes back on your finally clean body. His gaze followed yours to the pile of grimy clothes you had stacked by the bath.

“Come Maus.” This time he didn't look back to see if you were following. You hesitated for a moment, before you grabbed your clothes and scrambled to catch up with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the house. You had been there for a while, but now you were actually walking around it: One, when you could see and two, not while being flung over his shoulder.

It was nice, quaint. You had mostly envisioned living in a place like this when you were a kid. It was small and the floors were rickety, even crooked in some places, but it was nice. The walls, at least in this hallway, were a muted green and at the top of the stairs there was a table with a pot of flowers and a small book with a pen lying next to it.

He led you to the room in the corner. The one he had stowed you in, in the first few days. Originally, you had felt trapped but it was nice to walk around and actually take in the place.

He stopped at the door and waited for you to go in, then nodded towards the clothes he must have folded and placed on the bed.

You had previously refused to take in the room, but now that you were looking at it, it was nice. The walls were a pale violet and all of the wood in the room was light (birch maybe?); it was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning at this point.

You jumped when he shut the door. You heard him walk back down the stairs and figured it was probably time you stopped standing around in just a towel. He had left you another wooly jumper and a pair of baggy jeans, which were slighting too big on your waist, but you could definitely sort them out with a needle and thread.

You pulled your socks on before admiring the room for a little longer. There was a flower on the windowsill, you had never been good at flowers, but you were pretty sure it was a lily. On the wall to the left of the bed was a fireplace, it wasn't lit, but it was still warm from the fire he had built the night before for you.

You eventually made your way down the stairs, your steps never sounded quite as heavy as his. You placed that more down to the worn converse you had on, in comparison to his heavy combat boots. You could hear him humming in the kitchen, so you followed the sound and found him, slightly hunched, over the stove.

It was a little funny watching him in the kitchen, the ceilings were just high enough for him to stand up straight, but there were wooden beams running across the room in almost all of the rooms, so he had to hunch a lot. You wondered if he ever forgot and hit his head.

He turned his head when you hovered in the doorway. The mask lay next to him on the counter and he smiled when you met his eyes.

He hadn't said much of anything really, but he did nod towards a glass of water on the counter, which you reluctantly drank. You tried to look around him to see what he was cooking, but there was simply too much of him.

Instead, you retreated to the rustic looking table in the corner of the room. There were more plants in there than you had expected;it probably shouldn't have shocked you, because what better had he got to do than tend to plants?The world had literally ended.

You had thought about raiding a few bookstores, but you had never gotten around to it. You thought carrying books up the motorway would be a waste of valuable space and hell on your shoulders, but maybe if you were going to stay here you could get some? Who would it hurt? Not the already dead economy; definitely not the probably dead authors. That's if you were going to stay here. You had come back so you would have thought that meant- yes you were staying but were you really willing to stay with the man that had kidnapped you? Even if he wasn't still keeping you here.

On the other hand, it would be really nice to not have to worry about the world, or what would happen if you ever did make it up to your grandparents and they weren't there or they weren't alive or they had…Yeah, you would rather not think about that part.

It was times like these that you wished you had your mum, you hoped she was okay. That she had gotten somewhere safe and she had managed to stay with your siblings. You can't imagine she dealt well losing one child, losing more would probably break her.

You looked up to find him looking at you. You didn't entirely know what to do with that so you just stayed where you were and just looked into the water you were drinking. He turned back round when you didn't meet his eyes.

Whatever he was cooking didn't take long once you were downstairs, so you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for around 10 minutes before a bowl was placed in front of you.

You weren't exactly sure what it was, soup of some kind?. It smelt nice enough but you were still wary of it. It's not like you hadn't already been taking food from a stranger, but that was different. You needed that considering how long it had been since you had eaten real food and not just berries on the road.

Regardless, it felt different now, you pushed your spoon around the bowl and watched the vegetables move through the broth. It even looked like there was meat in there. It made sense, to you at least, you had assumed a man like him would know how to hunt.

He studied you for a moment, before leaning back against the counter and eating his own portion. You figured that was a good enough sign that he wasn't trying to kill you. You didn't really know why he didn't sit down at the table with you, maybe he was trying to make you less uncomfortable, maybe he also didn't like you. That thought bothered you a little, it's not like you should care because you didn't like him but what had you done to make him dislike you? Why did you even care that he might dislike you?

You decided to drown out your thoughts with soup- it was nice. Nothing particularly special but it was nice, you wondered if he likes cooking or if it was just a necessity for him. You didn't think you would mind picking up chores like that, if you did stay that is.

You took almost twice the time he did to finish your food. Especially since you spent most of the time pushing it around the bowl; it was mostly cold by the time you had finished, but you could feel his gaze on you and looking up felt like an unachievable task.

When you finally managed to look away from your empty bowl he smiled. “You look tired Maus.” He sounded sweet, almost concerned.

“Well I didn't get much sleep with my planning to escape and all.” Your response came out a little more dry and snappy than you had intended.

His face morphed into a frown at your response. “Maybe you should sleep then.” This time his tone matched yours. “You know where your room is.”

You felt a little bad, but you made your way upstairs anyway. You had no clue what brought on you being so rude in that moment. Maybe you were tired. You pulled the door, to what he had called your room shut, and got into bed. It was near dawn, but it was dark enough to sleep or at least to try. The bed was comfortable, a little dusty but it was nice, far better then the car seats you had been sleeping on prior to meeting him, you still didn't ask his name. Could you even now? Without it being awkward. Maybe? It's not like he knew your name either but he has been calling you Maus and you were okay with that.

You weren't sure when you drifted off, but now you wished you hadn't. You were back in the forest, you could hear the same shuffling from earlier, that poor boy's incessant muttering. You had tried to run but he was faster this time, on top of you in seconds. You stumbled, both of you hitting the floor hard and before you had time to react, he was pinning you down. The vile mix of froth and drool hanging from his mouth.

You screamed and thrashed, trying desperately to get out of his grasp or put some form of distance between the two of you- but it was no use.

Your eyes stung with tears and a sob tore through you, your wrist started to hurt again. The ache started morphing back to sharp pains. The boy shook you…the boy shook you? You slowly came back to reality, to the pale violet of the walls, to the dusty smell of the room, to the two warm hands that cupped your cheeks.

“Maus?” The man looked down at you, the concern he was feeling evident on his face.

You take a few deep breaths and then realise that he's touching you. You rip yourself away from him, as comforting as it was, you didn't want to like him. You did have to admit that it was comforting, but still you didn't want to get attached to someone and you definitely didn't want that someone to be him.

He seemed a little hurt but let you distance yourself from him.

“He can't hurt you, Maus.” You know he was just trying to comfort you but you also knew that the dead kid in the woods wasn't going to start walking again, and something about the fact that he felt the need to point it out annoyed you. Maybe it was that you were tired, you would have liked a good night's sleep or maybe it was just because you didn't want to accept that he was really nice.

“I know.” The words once again came out more snappy than you had intended. Maybe it was your lack of human contact prior to meeting him; you had never considered yourself to be one for holding grudges, but maybe it was because he kidnapped you.

He sighed and stood up from the bed. “I'll let you be Maus.”

“Um-” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. “What do I call you?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk. “König.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he made his way to the door.

You hadn't heard a name like that before, when he reached the door you were suddenly struck with panic at the thought of his absence.

“Stay.” Your voice came out slightly strained and higher at the end, almost making it seem like a question. “Just until I-” Your cheeks had definitely flushed. “In case I-” You were embarrassed,you sounded like a child asking for a night light, but this was rational, right? It made sense to want someone there.

The smirk on his face morphed into a small genuine smile, as we walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. It was a bit worn but went shockingly well with the room. The chair groaned under his weight when he sat down.

You would be uncomfortable having his gaze on you if your eyes weren't so heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open. “König, is it German?” Your voice comes out quieter than expected, but he hears anyway. Despite your heavy lids you saw the nod he gave you.

“Are you German?” You muttered again, fighting off the need to sleep and taking advantage of your hazy mood.

“Austrian” he responded in the same soft tone.

By this point you had stopped trying to keep your eyes open. “Like Hitler.” your voice was heavy with sleep and you could hear your words starting to slur slightly.

He chucked at that, it was a nice sound. You heard the chair creak as he moved. “Yeah, I guess.”

You eventually managed to fall asleep, you weren't sure for how long, but when you eventually got up there was a warm stream of sunlight hitting your face. You weren't sure of the time, but you couldn't hear birds like you could in the early morning and when you looked over to the chair, König was gone. You could, however, hear grunts coming from somewhere beneath your window and the sound of metal hitting wood? You thought it was anyway.

You made your way over to the window, partly because it meant you got to enjoy the sun on your face for a while longer but also to investigate the noise. The room you were in backed out into the cottage's overgrown garden. Considering the size of the house the garden was quite big, although most of it now had been turned into space for crops there were still patches of unruly grass lining the areas of tilled dirt and the greenhouse that sat in one corner, near the hedge lining the back.

In the opposite corner was König, next to him were two piles of wood, one looked to be what he would use for fires and such and the other like the lumber he clearly intended to cut; He used a large tree stump as a surface to cut the wood.

You glanced around your room, the wardrobe caught your eye. It was nice, dusty for sure but nice. It had carved flower details on each panel of the door and a mirror on each side separating the panels. It didn't look like it had been opened in…well ever.

Much to your shock when you opened it, there was a small selection of clothes. You figured he must have scavenged clothes of all sizes ,but the ones in here seemed nice. There were a few pairs of jeans, more of those wooly jumpers he would put you in and some plain t-shirts. Folded up in the very back was a dress, it was sage green and had small embroidered flowers. It looked a little big for you -at least on the bust- but if he would let you, you'd take it in.

You held the dress up to your body, you even shut the doors so you could look at it against your form. You smiled at your reflection, it was a pretty dress and it suited you quite well.

As much as you wanted to wear it, you decided against it. Instead, you took one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans before you folded the dress and placed it back in the wardrobe. It belonged on a hanger but they were none in there so delicate folding would have to do for the time being. Regardless, you had no intention of letting it gather dust in there.

You wondered if you would be about to find fabric in some of the looted stores, you had always had an interest in sewing and the idea of creating your own clothes brought a smile to your face- Something particularly rare since the outbreak.

You glanced back out the window and let your eyes fall on König as he brought down the axe on another piece of wood and finally made your way down the stairs and into the garden.

The sunlight felt just as nice, as it had through the window and the light breeze was equally pleasant.

König looked up when you walked into the garden. “Maus” he greeted you and placed the axe against the tree stump. He had worked up quite a sweat, which made sense;His sleeves rolled up and his breathing heavy from the activity.

“Good morning.” You had to look away because of how you felt your cheeks heat up. You had absolutely no idea what was happening, you hated him. He had essentially kidnapped you, so what if he had nice arms and his voice made you smile? So what if he was nice to you and had given you your freedom; not that you were sure he ever really took it away now. He still did it. Technically.

You looked up at the sun and figured it was probably late morning. Your days on the road had made it easier to judge, since after dusk you would have to take shelter in cars to avoid the sick.

“Do you do that often?” You cringed realising how much that sounded like a shitty pickup line.

He clearly picked up on that too because when he looked up from the stump he was smirking. “Gonna offer to buy me a drink too, Maus?” He teased. “I was running low.” He chuckled and picked the axe back up before looking at you again.

“Why don't you try, Maus? I'm sure it will make it more fun, at least for me.” He smiles and hands you the axe. “Know what you're doing?”

You nodded, even though in truth you didn't and having only one usable arm would probably make it harder. You hoped that what you had watched from the window would be enough to not have you make a complete fool of yourself. König set a log on the stump for you and then took a step back.

You gave him a nervous smile as you lifted the axe and then brought it down onto the piece of wood. The wood barely splintered but it was enough for the edge to go in. He snickered to himself while he watched you attempt to get the tool out; or the rest of the way through the timber.

“You can't laugh!” You complained. “You're ruining my performance!” You hadn't really noticed, but you were grinning too. You gave the wood a few more bashes before dramatically tossing it down.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before the two of you burst out laughing.

“I did a great job! How dare you.” You spoke between fits of laughter. “Plus I'm down a hand!” You gesture to the sling before you cast your eyes back to the unchopped wood. “It was just really strong wood.” You tried to say it as seriously as you could, but it only made the two of you laugh harder.

“Thought you would be better with an axe” He nodded towards a bench at the back of the garden. Not too far from where he was. “Geh und setz dich.” When you tilted your head in confusion he smiled and translated for you. “Go sit, Maus.”

“You keep calling me Maus.” You weren't really sure if it was a question or if you were simply stating the obvious to him. In all honesty you were a little curious but maybe it was better not to know. “It sounds like mouse.” Yeah, definitely just pointing out the obvious.

“That's because it means mouse.” He chuckled again and if you were looking at him he would definitely still be grinning.

“You've been calling me a mouse the whole time?! Why?” You weren't sure why it shocked you but then again it wasn't exactly a common nickname.

“Because you're small, and cute, like a mouse.” He said it like it was obvious, you felt heat rise to your cheeks but that was just embarrassment- obviously.

“I'm like average height, you're just the size of a small house.” he let out an amused breath.

“Whatever you say, schatz.” the smile still hasn't fallen from his face, when he brought the axe down on another piece of wood. You gazed around the garden, it was pretty and very organised. You looked over the rows of crops, you couldn't imagine a guy like him gardening. Nurturing little seeds and shoots, but needs must right?

You got a little lost in your thoughts and the rhythm of him bringing the axe down onto the pieces of wood; You barely even caught yourself staring.

Why were you staring? It's not like you had never seen a man before. Technically, never that much man but still. He was just a guy, a 6’ft something guy that looked like he could snap a person in half but just a big guy.

He didn't seem to notice anyway, not that it stopped you from feeling embarrassed. You spent most of your time around him for the past few hours in some state of flushed. Which made no sense because you were still mad at him right? It only made sense to be. Even if he was sweet you were supposed to be upset.

You looked at the man you regarded as your captor. You didn't feel like that anymore. It was like if you really wanted to leave you could, probably could have in the beginning. He was sweet if nothing else, he was even willing to sit with you while you fell asleep ; You wondered how long he sat there for before he left. If he got up the minute you drifted off or if he waited.

God you were being such an idiot. It was definitely just because you had been alone for so long- Nothing more, just enjoying human interaction after so long.

You jumped when he brought the axe down on the wood again. You looked between him and the growing pile.

“Surely that's enough.” He nods in response.

“Probably.” He brings the axe down on another chunk of wood. “But I don't like doing this so it's easier to get a stockpile.”

“How long have you been here?” Considering the crops it must have been a while right? That would make sense at least, maybe it was a holiday home? Or he just moved here when things got bad because it was secluded.

“Found it.” He looked down at the wood, and his voice was quieter than before. “When I found it there were two-” He sighed.

“A couple lived here, when I got here they were already sick… I think the wife got it first, she was worse off.” He looked back up but didn't make eye contact. “They attacked, probably half starved and- well”

You got the rest, you kinda got the rest the minute he started talking. That explained the dresses in the wardrobe, the pretty furniture and probably the garden too.

After a while, you broke the silence. “Did the military know anything about it?” In asking, you failed to change the subject and lighten the mood but you were curious. You couldn't help it.

“Higher ups said it was like rabies, but they didn't tell us much more than shoot on sight. Not a lot else really” He seemed so nonchalant about it.

You knew that much, that much was on the news; then the radio when the TVs went down. The government knew it was like rabies and that you couldn't get bit, or swap any sort of fluids.

Regardless, it all happened so fast, since it was quite slow acting and nobody really showed signs;Until most people had it and by that time it was too late to think about a cure or a vaccine. Last you heard the government, or what was left of it, wasn't even trying to make a cure or a vaccine. They had simply hidden out in some ‘safe city', but that hadn't really shocked you either.

“Did you have to do that a lot? Shoot on sight?” He nodded in response and started piling the chopped wood back into the little storage shed in the garden, presumably to keep it dry.

When he got to the last few pieces, he picked them up and put them under his arm before making his way towards the house.

“You coming Maus?” You nodded and followed behind him, pulling the door shut after you. He placed the wood down in a basket and then went to the kitchen.

Lunch was cold soup, because he said he didn't want to start a fire this early in the day.You didn't particularly mind even if it was better when it was warm like yesterday.

The rest of the day was very uneventful, König went back into the garden and you sat with him. Mostly in silence, since you had run out of conversation topics and he was focused on the garden. Shockingly, more focused than he had been while he was working with the axe.

Over the next few weeks, you picked up the routine, it was rare that you would have breakfast; and lunch was always whatever had been cooked the night before. König would hunt every other Thursday- mainly hare. You went with him a few times, eager to spread the chores more. Only because you were going to stay, or at least until your arm healed then you might get back on the road.

So far you have volunteered for collecting and boiling rain water as well as cooking. Originally, you had offered to help garden (or hunt) but with one functional arm you weren't particularly good at either of those. The other problem with hunting being that you didn't really like guns or killing the animals.

So instead of hunting when he went out, you would forage somewhere nearby so he could keep an eye on you. He never put it like that but you knew that was why. It wasn't like you wanted to go far anyway, for fear of another run in with a wanderer.

It had been working well, the both of you appreciated the company and spreading the workload seemed to be helping König too. He looked less tired than he did before, you can't say he got any softer because he was always smiles when you were around but he did have more energy.

Obviously you did too, since you were finally able to eat more than scavenged granola bars, you were doing better too. The protein was helping your arm heal too and you couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone around to talk to.

Before you even really knew it, you had been with him a few months and your arm had almost completely healed. It was weaker than the other one and sometimes a bit achy but overall it was better and you were happy. The thought of leaving now was silly, why would you? To go up to your grandparents and probably find them dead? There was no appeal to it anymore, you had already lost enough people and the idea of potentially losing more was not something you really wanted to dwell on.

So it seemed like you were staying; regardless, you had become a functioning member of the house. You had jobs, jobs that weren't just to stay alive and not get lost.

So you decide you will stay because it's smarter, and that's easier to admit than staying because you're happy. Plus you just so happen to like the guy that ‘kidnapped’ you.

[fluidthoughts]

I MEAN—

[fluidthoughts]

baba trend x König

[fluidthoughts]

big stinky 🌿💚

[fluidthoughts]

Oh

🐙

Bro wants a different cake.

[fluidthoughts]

Ghost n König fighting for the last bottle of eye drops will they kiss🤔

[fluidthoughts]

The Hunt

König x 'Maus' F!Reader

(Part 13 of 'Little Mouse')

Word Count: 5.3k Rating: Mature Tags: Stealth missions, Banter, Cat and Mouse, Hypothermia, Sharing body heat, Cuddling, Snuggling, Angst Warnings: None A/N: Thank you for staying with the series despite the break!

You're starting to think you might die out here.

It's been hours since you three dropped into the Kazakhstan mountains, just narrowly avoiding an incoming snowstorm that has since painted the steep mountains white. The air is thick with the blank, icy taste of snow, and you struggle to catch Soap and Ghost in their snowgear as they ascend up the cliff to the remote radio tower station that is the source of your intel. They're strong, clambering up the slope one at a time while the other watches their six. You supervise them from afar, perched on a cliff opposite of the valley, trying to catch sight of them despite the curtain of white that falls between you. 

Laswell was the one to point you here, as she usually does. The station chief has been combing through intelligence for months, searching for breadcrumbs on Makarov. The man is a ghost in the wind, vanished from prison and now hiding secretly as he plots his next move. He could be anywhere in the world. Your hunt for him had been delayed by your tangle with KorTac, but now even they seem to have vanished into the breeze with nary a trace.

You adjust your scope, zooming in on the sight of Soap and Ghost perching on a cliff edge, shoulders heaving with exertion. You smirk under your snow mask and sweep your sights further up the slope towards the target they are ascending towards. 

The tower itself is unassuming, a lone and decrepit thing in the middle of nowhere. Yet all it had taken was a single errant ping from a satellite to realize the traffic out of this seemingly normal outpost was far larger than originally thought. It could be nothing, it could be everything, but one thing remains clear, and it's the message Laswell managed to pull and decipher from a single static transmission, letters spelled out in Russian.

KorTac.

It's the first lead you've had in over a month. The mercenary group had seemingly gone underground following your raid on their satellite base. By the time Laswell had managed to pull an order to survey the site via drone footage, there was nothing left. The entire place had been burnt to the ground, devastated, nothing but ashes to comb through in search of answers. Since then the group had vanished, gone in the wind. Not defeated, but biding their time, waiting in the dark and drawing plans that would eventually come to full fruition. 

"Bravo 09, this is Bravo 07, how copy?"

You barely catch a glimpse of Ghost as he raises a hand to his headset. The transmission is tinted with static due to the snowstorm, but you can still make out the low, hushed accent of  the older man's voice as he checks in.

"Got you in my scope, 07." You report back, mouth moving behind your snowmask, wet with condensation. You shiver, feeling half an inch of snow on your back, not moving from your sniper position, ready to wait here hours more if need be. You hope for the sake of your fingers and toes it doesn't come to that.

"It's cold as balls out here, LT." You grouse in addition, and you see Soap's head tilt towards Ghost as he regards his partner.

"My balls are cold." Johnny agrees irritably, but there's a touch of playfulness there that hasn't been dampened by the snow.

“Feeling a little shriveled, Johnny?” You snark crudely, and hear the Scot make an indignant little scoff in return.

"Focus, both of you." Ghost snaps, to which you both silence yourselves with a snicker. "We're almost at the perimeter. We'll be going radio dark after that."

"Copy." You reply, adjusting your scope with numbing fingers to focus on the steel fence that surrounds the radio tower and the adjoining building. "Good hunting, you two."

Neither Soap or Ghost reply, focusing instead on climbing the last few ledges on the opposite side of the mountain. You watch as they take a break at the top, crouched near the edge. Eventually you hear Ghost’s voice filter over the comms. 

“Break’s over, Johnny.”  Ghost declares, and stands, offering him a hand and hauling Soap up so they advance forward along the slippery, snow laden cliffside. An incoming wall of white obscures your view of them as they round the edge towards the fence, and you hear one last garbled transmission from Ghost before they vanish.

It’s silent after that, with nothing but the wind howling in your ears and prickling under your skin. Even with your thick, downy parka there’s little respite from the bone biting chill that seeps into your veins. Perched in place as you are on overwatch, you know there’s no moving until your two comrades find their way out to you once more. 

So you huddle in, ignoring the chatter of your teeth and trying to steady your hands on the rifle, hoping and praying that the chamber doesn’t freeze, and that you won’t need to use it. The cold grips tight to your veins, and you try to imagine the lulling warmth of a campfire that you can’t afford. 

Hurry back. You think towards your two comrades. Before I fucking freeze to death.

There’s a tinny sort of whine in your radio, and you shift to adjust so the transmission comes through.

"Bravo team, this is Watcher-01, do you read me?" Laswell's voice comes in, tinny and crackling but still recognizable.

You blink, brow knotting. Laswell had signed off shortly before your parachute jump into the mountains. Whatever has caused her to reach out like this must be urgent. Maybe the tower is a bust, and she's decided to pull you from the mission. 

Ghost and Soap don't respond, and you think they might have already switched off their radios. So instead, after a pause, you respond in their stead. 

"This is Bravo 09, send traffic Watcher."

There's a pause before Laswell responds. "Bravo 09, advise all stations we may have KorTac operatives in the field."

You suck in a breath, feel cold air seize your lungs and descend into your veins with icy realization. If KorTac is here, then that means this tower is much more important than originally thought. You haven't run into any members of KorTac since Price's rescue, which means...

He could be here.

You store the thought as quickly as it came, trying to find Soap and Ghost against the rocky outcrop, only to come up empty handed. 

"Copy, Watcher. Ghost and Soap have gone radio silent." You report with a little grunt of frustration, knowing the two of them have already made their way inside. It could be too late, they might have found out the hard way just what waits for them. “They’ve likely breached the perimeter.”

"Then keep an eye out, Rookie, we need to-"

You blink as static garbles Laswell's next words, swallowing them with a crackle that fades to a high pitched whine.

"Watcher, repeat." You try, leaning a hand up to your headset to try and regain the signal.

Static.

"Laswell?"

Silence.

The storm must have knocked out the signal, which does not bode well for your mission. You try once more to raise Soap and Ghost, to no avail. You breathe in and quell the uncertain flutter of your heartbeat, feeling a familiar sense of knowing dread thrum low through your chest. The extrasensory insight you rely on to discern the state of the world around you hums with warning, does little to ease the low roll of your stomach. 

It's fine, you tell yourself. Soap and Ghost have handled far worse than this. You weren't there for Las Almas, having joined the team only after, but you heard the story from Johnny. Barely armed, pursued, injured, out of supplies and ammo, and yet somehow they had survived. This, with them well armed and in pursuit, should be no challenge. 

It takes a few minutes to repeat this to yourself, but it does nothing to relax the anxious, knowing pulse of sixth sense that hovers in the back of your mind. 

When the radio crackles again you nearly jump, muttering a transmission before anything can come through. 

"Laswell, do you copy?"

Static. 

Then, a different voice. 

"Hello, Maus."

If you were cold before, the voice that filters through your radio sends you hurtling into hypothermia, jolting at the familiar, purring intonation of the man who has long since pursued you.

“König.” You breathe, unable to contain the shocked breathlessness from your voice.

“Long time no see, as they say.” He murmurs, and you can hear the low, sultry delight of his voice at your response. You should have stayed quiet, shouldn’t have spoken, switched to another channel to get a hold of Laswell, tried to reach Soap and Ghost to tell them to retreat. 

“What are you doing here?” You hiss instead, gritting your chattering teeth. 

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, fraulein?”

You don’t respond to that, too busy trying to ignore the way the KorTac operative’s voice itches pleasantly under your skin. It’s a vain betrayal, and you internally chastise yourself for remembering the darkness of the supply closet that accompanied your last rendezvous, the soft, yearning words between you. You’ve tried to lock away the memory of it, the way his voice rumbled softly down at you with a traitorous promise that you know will mean the end of you both.

"I might try and kill you again." You breathe, voice wavering as you desperately try to reign in the wickedness of your heart. "I can't promise you I won't succeed."

"You won't." He tells you, and his voice is resolute. There is no uncertainty, no hidden conviction in the utter confidence of which he speaks. "You can try, Maus. You won't be able to."

"And if I don't?”

König blinks at you, eyes fluttering shut for all of a moment before he speaks.

"Then we'll be here again." He murmurs, and you want to shudder at the sudden softness of his voice, allowing that forbidden thing inside you to stretch forward into him. "Again and again, Maus. Over and over until one of us surrenders." 

You’ve tried to forget in his absence, shutting out the way you’d closed your eyes when he had tried to kiss you, vainly attempting to replace it with the knowledge that he’s tried to kill your friends, that he was responsible for Price’s capture, for your capture so long ago. In the weeks he’s been gone you’ve curled silently into your bunk, trying to convince yourself how wrong, how selfish you are for allowing yourself to harbor feelings for him. 

Now, when he’s here, now that his voice purrs into your radio with that beloved endearment, Maus, you find your steadfast resistance crumbling down around you like snow shifting on the mountains- preceding an avalanche. 

“I missed you, Maus.”

It sounds almost like a whine, a needy thing that would be pouting if there wasn’t an undertone of secret, gleeful intent beneath.

Don’t. You remind yourself, body scrunching tight as you try to control your breathing so he doesn’t hear your shuddering exhale. 

“Where are your friends?” You ask instead, voice even, flat.

He’s silent then, and you swear the absence of his words speaks of disappointment.

“That’s not how this works, Maus.” He replies, voice betraying his discontent.

You snort. “Tell me then, how does this work?”

There’s a strange crackling sound over the radio, and if you listen closely you can hear him chuckle.

“It works. Just with you and me.”

You let out a freezing breath at that, and you know it crackles over the comms towards him. You’re silent, but it’s different now as you begin to ease from your original surprise. Against your better judgment, you allow yourself to be soothed by the gentle tenor of his voice, allow yourself to remember what it felt like to nearly be kissed by him. The phantom touch of his knuckles under your chin, tipping you up towards him ghosts across your skin with a wicked, traitorous temptation. 

“What are you doing out here, Maus?” König asks, and it's more like a sigh, a reminiscent thing that seems to recall your previous wayward parting. 

“Recon.” You tell him flatly, refusing to divulge any more details lest it compromise your mission. 

“Alone?”

You think of Soap and Ghost struggling up the cliff side, vanishing in a cloud of white towards the perimeter of the radio tower. He can’t be allowed to know they’re here. God only knows what may happen to them, to him if they find each other.

“Yes.” You breathe, but your hesitation betrays your lie for what it is.

König hums in consideration, and you know him well enough by now to know the narrowing of his eyes, the slight tilt of his head as he weighs your words. 

“I think you’re lying, Maus.” He intones, and you stiffen at that, at the small whisper of threat that lingers in his voice- the sound of a man born and bred to kill, to hunt and maim. 

You, in your naive fantasies, forgot he too was a hunter. 

“I think your friends are here.” He goes on, voice low with danger, and you feel your muscles go taut, eyes wide and shoulders stiff. “Should I go say hello?”

“I’m alone.” You tell him again, but your voice is a thin, desperate thing, caught tight in your chest. 

König chuckles, as if he finds your rising panic amusing.

“A joke, Maus.” He explains, and it does little to relieve you, not with the way it failed to sound like anything other than a threat.

“But...” He continues, his voice hanging between you like suspended frost. “I guess if you are alone, you wouldn’t mind company, mm?”

You close your eyes, scrunching them shut at the way your heart clenches with an excitement you shouldn’t feel. The idea of his touch on you again is both exhilarating and terrifying- like drinking poison just because you love the taste. He’s a venom that slips into your veins, purrs under your skin and warms you through even as you burn from the inside out.

The logical part of you knows to refuse him. Yet there’s also a chance that if he remains where he is, he has a very good chance of bumping into Ghost and Soap, which is the absolute last thing you need right now- for the mission, and for yourself. You need to draw him from the tower, away from the others.

“You’re welcome to.” You purr back, refusing to show your wavering voice. “That is...if you can find me.”

He pauses at that, and you wonder if he expected you to refuse him and instead pleasantly surprised. 

“A game?” He asks, and you hear the rising excitement in his voice, like a predator who has caught the scent of something delicious. “And my prize?”

You huff at that, oddly endeared by his sadistic sort of playfulness. “I suppose you’ll have to find out, König.” You reply, voice low with promise.

“You’re a vexing woman, Maus.”

Thank God Laswell can’t hear this.

“Try and find me if you can.” You goad, narrowing your scope on the fence perimeter where Ghost and Soap have yet to emerge. “Good luck.”

“Oh I won’t need luck.” He purrs, and you shiver.

“Then I’ll see you soon.” You reply, and switch the channel on your radio off. 

Silence follows, and you release a deep, slow exhale to steady yourself. The snow muffles all sound, even the thump of your heartbeat as it beats unevenly against your tender ribs. You try to tame the excitement that hums inside you, forcing yourself into stillness until the cold embraces you again.

It’s unlikely he’ll be able to find you, buried as you are. You’ve allowed snow to accumulate on your back and legs, slowly engulfing your pale snow gear in a further camouflage. You’ve been here for well over an hour, and can stay much longer than that if you need. Not moving, barely breathing. Still and silent in the way snipers are, waiting for your chance to pull the trigger.

There’s a part of you that hopes he finds you, somehow. It’s a selfish, dangerous thing, fed by the excitement of hearing from him for the first time in weeks, scratching the itch you’ve desperately been trying to bury inside yourself. It’s the thing you’ve felt for a while now, a secret desire that betrays all the values and loyalty you hold dear to.

The desire to be caught.

You scrub a snow laden hand across your face, hoping somehow the frost will clear your mind of traitorous thoughts. You need to focus on the mission- ensuring that Soap and Ghost make it to the extraction point without anyone tailing or firing after them. You drew König out not because you wanted to see him, but because you were trying to protect your teammates from an enemy operative. That’s all this is. No wayward, illicit romance, no purring over the comms and suggestive flirtations, and certainly no memories of staring up at your enemy in a dark room and hoping he would find the courage to kiss you.

For fuck’s sake, get a hold of yourself.

You push the image away as far as you can, and train your scope once more on the ice laden cliff across the narrow valley.

It’s quiet in the minutes that follow, and you feel the heavily falling snow continue to pack along your spine. You try to contain your chattering teeth and shivering hands, noting with irritation the undue wobble of your scope as you sweep your sights across the landscape-

What?

A shape, there and gone in a mere moment, vanishing along the narrow path off to your right in a cloud of white. You’re certain you saw something, but when you train your sights, there’s nothing there.

Maybe...

You should move to a better position.

It might be a good idea. The motion would heat up your trembling, frigid limbs, and the snow would hopefully cover any tracks you leave behind. Yet there’s risks of doing so. The second you move, even with your snow camouflage, there’s a risk of being spotted by the operative hunting you through the snow.

You purse your chapped, cold lips under your snow mask, and weigh your options.

-and that’s when you hear the sound behind you.

You flip over quickly, reaching for your side arm, but the weapon is buried against your side in the snow, and as you fumble for it a huge, towering figure lurches into view.

“Found you, Maus.” König rumbles as he steps from behind a tree, and before you can bite a reply, try to raise your silenced pistol, you freeze.

“What-” You manage, a little forced, blinking. “What are you wearing?”

König pauses mid-step as he stalks towards you, eyes wide under his hood. Your question catches him off guard, and he glances down at himself in confusion. His hood, normally a dark, ominous black, is now a strangely, ghostly gray that matches his long, snow-white layers and tan tac vest. Black boots and thick gloves are tugged over his pants and sleeves, but his helmet remains the same.

“...You don’t like it?” He asks, and you laugh out of pure disbelief.

“I-” You try, side arm now forgotten. “Yes?”

You shake yourself, and reach once more for your weapon.

“Ah-” König tuts, quickly moving forward too fast and gently placing a boot over your arm. “Please don’t, Maus.”

You frown at him, try and wiggle your arm, only for him to increase the weight on it. “Asshole.” You seethe, and König huffs an indignant little sound. “What if I said that was your prize?”

“A bullet?” He tilts his head at you. “You shouldn’t have.”

“No, I really should.” You insist past chattering teeth, and tug more severely at his ankle despite your heavy, shivering limbs.

He watches you struggle in vain, and you hate the amused little glint in his eyes.

Finally, you flop back into the snow, winded.

“I won.” He provides smugly, and you punch at his calf in one more outraged attempt to dislodge him, with no success.

“So what then?” You seethe. “Are you going to capture me again?”

“No.”

You blink, look up at him, startled by the sudden severity of his tone. He bites out the word like you’ve insulted him, sneering and dangerous. You’d only sort of been joking, but the reflexive refusal that you’ve managed to elicit has you pause, considering.

“We’re...past that, Maus.” He goes on, voice softer. The boot eases from your arm a bit. “I thought we agreed on that much.”

"Some things are more beautiful when they are free, Maus."

It’s difficult to decide how you feel about that.

Part of you is relieved that König has decided to forego the obsession of capturing you. For reasons still unknown to you, O’Connor had kept Price alive during his captivity. You have a feeling that for you, your fate at the hands of KorTac would be far less kind. Held by ransom at best, an unmarked grave at worst, it’s fortunate for you that the Austrian towering above you has decided much the same.

Yet you also wish somehow things could go back to what they were- simpler. König trying to take you alive, and you- trying to kill him for it. Instead, the haunting memory of the darkness inside the storage closet of the KorTac base, of how you’d almost let him kiss you, of how you saw his face, remains a treacherous addiction you desperately try to rid yourself of. Now, this, whatever it is, seems to have spiraled beyond your reach, unable now to discern the lines between villain and dangerous ally, a balance you fail to reconcile with every frost-bitten breath inside your chest.

You try to force a glare up at him, but instead feel your expression cast between dismay and doubt, a visage that he absorbs and blinks slowly down at you.

“You’re shaking, Maus.” He notes quietly, voice barely audible above the ice-laden wind. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You bite back, and that at least is the truth. “Just freezing my ass off.”

König tilts his head at you, and is silent for a moment, considering. Yet then you see his eyes behind the mask, crinkling at the edges as he smiles.

“Poor little liebling.” He coos, and you frown harder at that, the almost condescending dip of his voice. Yet before you can protest König uses his boots to gently roll you onto your stomach back to the position you were at before, and then abruptly dropping his weight onto your back.

“W-what-” You croak in surprise, face warming as you try and squirm under the massive bulk of him pressed flat against your spine. “What are you doing?!”

“You said you were cold.” The giant above you reasons, settling in so he blankets you on all sides with his larger frame. “I’m just trying to keep you warm, Maus.”

Your brain short circuits, fizzling into nothingness as you battle the absolutely absurdity of the situation with the welcome body heat bleeding into your bones from above.

This is so beyond the field manual I might as well burn the thing.

König happily nuzzles into your back, trapping you underneath him. He arranges his arms in a cradle to rest your head in, his own cheek pressed to the nape of your neck with a pleased sigh.

You can’t even find the words to object to this bizarre development, eyes blinking dumbly into the wall of white that obscures the other side of the valley where Soap and Ghost have vanished to. You can only silently thank whatever higher power there is that they can’t see this- can’t see you as you find yourself cuddling with the enemy.

“I’ll take this as my prize.” König murmurs cheerfully, and you make a sound of utter disbelief, confused yet not entirely displeased at this development.

The more you fail to squirm free, the more heat radiates from the form of the soldier behind you, encasing you in a small cocoon of heat that blessedly chases above the shiver in your muscles. Slowly, you find yourself relaxing against him, taking in the warmth for all its worth and silently convincing yourself it’s just for survival.

Can’t RV if I’m hypothermic, after all. You try to reason, blatantly ignoring the tiny voice inside you that speaks otherwise.

“You’re keeping me alive.” You muse aloud, mouth partially covered by your snow mask and the cradle of his arms.

“I am.” König replies simply with a small shrug.

“Why?”

König pauses for a moment. You swear you feel him stiffen, feel the thump of his heartbeat pound between your shoulder blades as he attempts to summon an answer.

“Because I like you, Maus.” He tells you at last, soft and breathy in your ear. “I like you better alive.”

The cold air in your lungs seems to punch at the staccato rhythm inside your chest, forcing a cold intake of air that you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Since that first time we met.” König goes on, voice rumbling low from his chest into the warming dip of your spine. “I saw you, saw the way you fought, the way you...weren’t afraid. You were so soft and small in my arms...”

He trails off then, but when he resumes his musings he chuckles low against your nape. “You were like a little bird, but when you woke up it turned out you had fangs, Maus.”

You feel a small flush of pride at that, at the reminder of the way you had challenged him, had refused to back down despite the towering, intimidating stranger before you. In truth you’d been terrified, knowing your capture could have meant torture, even death, knowing that Gaz had been left behind bleeding and unconscious.

Gaz...

Your face falls in dismay.

What would he think of you like this? With the man who once had almost killed him? Who had dared to steal you away right in front of his eyes? What would he make of this? With you in the arms of an enemy, refusing to squirm free, to kill the man who had once helped kidnap Price.

...With a man who had saved your life more times than you could count?

“We can’t...do this.” You breathe quietly into the snow, eyes half lidded and scarcely gazing at the wall of white before you. “König...”

The man behind you is silent, and you know without seeing his eyes he’s taking in your words, thinking very much the same. Like you, König knows the danger of his fascination with you, the way he’s already betrayed his own company to aid you, to keep you safe. You both know that the lines you have both crossed betray the allies you’ve sworn yourselves to, caught in a dangerous abraxas that neither of you can control.

“Would you?” He asks in a whisper shielded by the wind. “If things were different, Maus?”

You close your eyes, feeling your chest clench with an emotion you dare not name. You should lie to him. You should tell him that this, this is something you never expected, something you can indulge in no longer. You should tell him next time that you won’t hesitate, that you’ll squeeze the trigger and watch this horrid affair finally come to its fateful, bloody conclusion.

Instead, you offer in a scarce whisper:

“Yes.”

There’s a long pause before König sighs behind you, his chest deflating into your spine and the warm breath of him spilling across your nape. You shiver under him, purely out of sensation rather than the cold, reminded of the intimacy of the position you two find yourselves in.

“What am I going to do with you, Maus?” He asks, and despite the melodrama involved you know it’s a genuine question- one you yourself have asked many, many times.

“We could go back to trying to kill each other.” You offer with feign cheerfulness.

“I never wanted to kill you, Maus.”

Right.

In some ways you wish he had. If König never had qualms about killing you, perhaps this could be avoided.

“You could desert.” You say suddenly, surprising yourself. “Defect and surrender to the 141.”

“Do you really think it’s that simple, Maus?” He asks, almost dismayed.

You know it’s not. With everything König has done, with the legacy he’s left on you and your teammates, you know they’d never trust him. Even if you explained to them that König wasn’t the monster they think he is, that he had never done the things they suspect him of, you know all you’d receive in return is your friends’ disbelief and distrust for lying to them, for asking them to trust the man who had once captured you.

The image of their faces, of the hurt and despair and disappointment etched across their eyes, is something you can hardly bear.

This is your fault, you think quietly, with dawning despair. You should have killed him long ago. You should have told your team. Perhaps they’d have forgiven you if you’d confessed, consoled you and told you that this was all just a horrible maladjustment to your capture back then. If you’d told them, if you’d killed him...

“Maus.” König observes at the small shuddering breath you draw in, emotions bubbling inside your chest.

If things were different, then somehow....maybe...

“Bravo-09, this is Bravo-07.”

You jolt, muscles seizing at the sudden staticky tenor of Ghost’s voice over your comms. König braces on his forearms to allow you to scramble for your radio, voice breathless as you respond.

“Go ahead Bravo-07.”

“Sweep cleared. Proceeding to rally point Alpha. Fifteen minutes.”

“Good copy, LT. Are you being followed?”

A pause, then. “Negative, Bravo-09. Place was empty. Looks like they’d just burned it.”

You blink, then twist towards König.

“You bastard.” You manage, eyes wide as you realize what he’s done. “This was a distraction.”

König’s eyes soften with a remorse that fails to quell the anger warming in your veins.

“A necessary one, Maus.” He offers simply, removing the weight of his body from yours. You twist onto your back to face him, a mixture of rage and hurt written clear across your face. König towers above you, a massive shadow that easily dwarfs your prone form.

“You’re lucky you and your friends came when you did. A day earlier and you’d all be dead.”

“Why?” You manage, voice strangled. “Why distract us?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Maus.” He offers, almost sadly. “We’re still enemies, after all.”

He steps away from you then, and even when you know he sees your hand reach for your sidearm, he doesn’t flinch. Instead he pauses, offers you a clear line of sight that would allow you to take the perfect shot at his turned back.

“...But maybe not forever.” He finally offers, and steps easily into the trees, vanishing.

You watch after him, expression pained, asking the snowy sky for answers it cannot yield.

In the place where he once was, your finger trembles on the trigger.

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[fluidthoughts]

Haha toes

[fluidthoughts]

Sexy boi for yall 👑

[fluidthoughts]

😍😍😍

Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 

— What are you doing here? 

Ah. 

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 

— Can’t you talk? 

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 

— What is that? 

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 

— I’m not…that. 

— I can see. 

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 

Hm. 

Is it supposed to be this big? 

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 

— Why? 

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 

— Are you cold? 

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 

— Do you have a husband? 

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 

— Are you going to leave soon? 

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 

[fluidthoughts]

[fluidthoughts]

pity. konig.

konig who doesn't like degrading you, so when you ask him to do it during sex he just praises you in another language with an aggressive tone.

"hübsches Mädchen.." (pretty girl..)

"wunderschönes kleines Ding" (gorgeous little thing)

"Du bist so hübsch, wenn du weinst, weißt du das?" (you're so pretty when you cry, y'know that?)

blondieeu xx

[fluidthoughts]

they're overthinking on how to say hi to each other

[fluidthoughts]

Simon Riley who lashes out at the new recruit (you) over something minor, 'you're useless, recruit, do better'

You get over it pretty good, your crush evaporating into nothing, why would you waste your time over someone who doesn't care for you?

Simon confused why you're so cold and distant to him all of a sudden

Price confused as to why you're suddenly asking for a transfer

Simon confronting you over your weird attitude and you pointing out you were in love with him until he told you he didn't care for you and Simon pales 'were?'

Price granting your transfer and time passing until Simon sees König picking you up and swinging you in his arms and you giggling and happy

Simon nursing a bottle of bourbon when he realises his temper made him lose you

[fluidthoughts]

I'm thinking about witch!reader who treats König like a child even when he isn't the small octopus anymore- (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNK4NWkJ/)

NO- DON'T TREATS HIM LIKE A CHILD IN HIS HUMANOID FORM OR ELSE HE WILL BE ANGRY BECAUSE OUR BOY GOT A HUGGE PRIDE :(

But if you keep insist to do it.. Good luck

[fluidthoughts]