#Konig

[machveil]

official König post

Museum dates where she stares at the art and I stare at her.

[machveil]

consider: Konig in krampus suit (German anti-Santa). is that anything

you guys know that video of a Krampus actor carrying a girl from the sidelines off to be his wife? König coded, I want to be her. I need Krampus(Actor??)!König in my life

[d-emeter]

Breakfast, lunch and dinner (or: cod characters and how they eat you out) — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

Note: take this as my formal apology for being inactive for so long :') exam week had me hanging on by a thread and i'm also suddenly moving so. yay. expect some more action after like... this week i hope

John Price

Listen. Getting eaten out by Captain Price is not, in any way, meant for your pleasure. No, this is him disciplining you. It hardly even matters what for. Maybe you have been teasing him, sliding your hand up his thigh under the table, rubbing your ass against him while passing by him. Maybe you've been a brat all day, complaining and huffing and puffing about everything, barely listening to any of John's requests and/or demands. Either way, sit on his desk and spread your fucking legs, doll. He'll be edging you for what feels like hours, tongue moving so torturously slow that all coherent thought has seeped from your brain aside from how badly you want to cum. Too bad, bad girls don't deserve to finish this easily.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

With Simon, it's always a surprise what position you'll end up in. The only certainty you have is that it's definitely not what you'd expect, and sometimes you wish that for once he'd just lay you down and get busy. But alas, he'll have you kneeling with your face in the pillows, or bent over the back of the couch. Maybe he'll have you hanging off the edge of the bed so all the blood flows to your already overheating brain. You're clinging onto whatever you can get a hold on, mostly in pleasure, and sometimes in fear of falling when he has you up on his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Well, he doesn't exactly hear your complaining over your moans and whimpers, he argues, and he wouldn't dream of dropping you.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

As with Price, this has little to do with your pleasure: it's all for his own benefit. Please, lass, he loves your cunt, and she loves him, doesn't she? Come on, let him have a taste. He could give two shits about where you are or how convenient it is— if he wants to lick your pussy, he's going to. He's down on his knees while you're desperately clinging onto the kitchen counter, or the shower wall, or the shelves of your pantry. Hell, you'd have to hope and pray a sales associate won't come by your changing room in fear of them hearing all of his moans. Oh, and you quickly find out you cannot wear a skirt around him, because it won't come down from your hips if he has any say in it.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He's devastatingly methodical. He knows your body better than you do at this point, and he's not afraid to use this to his advantage. He can work you just right, but the worst part is that he will refuse to. Unless you kindly ask him for it, that is. Tsk, pretty girl, use your words. Let him know where you need him, what you need him to do. He's hovering close enough that you can feel his breath on your neglected clit, your cunt clenching around nothing in desperate search for friction of any kind, but he won't do anything until you tell him in excruciating detail what you want. And be aware, any time you stop talking, he's pulling away in a second.

König

Oh, König... Sweet, wet-rag-of-a-man loser that he is, will completely lose his mind any time you allow him near your pussy. He can practically feel his brain melting while he's drowning himself in your slick, and he looks like it too. His eyes have rolled back, face flushed and his eyebrows scrunched in pure, unadulterated pleasure. His body has turned to complete mush, his cock leaking against the sheets and hands clawing onto any part of your body he can reach (which, with his arms, is basically everywhere). Unintelligible mumbles made into your cunt, teetering the edge between praise and begging. He is a little inexperienced, Schatz, so you'll have to show him how you like it. Shove his face between your folds and ride his nose, and you'll have him moaning like a bitch in heat. When he finally comes back up for air you can tell you're not the only one that reached heaven just now.

Philip Graves

I'm going to speak my truth here, he does not strike me as the kind of man to give you oral all that much. I am SORRY, but it's true. He usually prefers to get you nice and ready for him with his fingers, or by having you ride his thigh, or simply from the absolute filth he spews into your ear while dry-humping. However, on the odd occasion that Phil does get down and dirty, he aims to make it special. It's strangely sentimental, actually. It'd be outside on a picnic blanket after his homecoming, or in your shared bed after your anniversary dinner. Anything that reminds him how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him, and he's going to show you with his tongue. There's reverence in every suck, praise in every lick and prayer in every word he murmers into your core. You're his goddess and he's just here to worship you, baby.

Alejandro Vargas

For Ale, it'd be a form of gratuity much in the same way it is for Graves, though the difference is that he'll use that as an excuse even for the most menial things. His belly nice and full after your homecooked dinner, grin on his face and asking when his dessert is being served. You've been so good to him, amor, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss and a plate waiting for him, now let him thank you properly. You fixed the button on his shirt that had fallen off? Well, put it on and lay yourself down, time to lap at your cunt in thanks. It's gotten to a point where you're convinced he just decided his goal in life is to pull as many orgasms from you as possible. Not that you're complaining, of course.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parras

Eating you out is, in many ways, a means to an end for Rudy. He wants to make sure you're properly prepped and ready to take his cock, so it's almost instinctual for him to bury his face between your soft thighs for a while before inching himself into you. It's part of the routine, the way he thought sex was supposed to go. It's not until you explain to him that it can actually be the main event, and that you'd thoroughly enjoy it if he maybe put in a little more effort, that it dawns on him just how much he can actually do down there and how much time he's wasted not doing it. Now, tesoro, you may have shot yourself in the foot with that one, because he now can keep you pinned down for hours, just suckling away at your clit and fucking you on his tongue, dumb grin on his face after your fifth orgasm renders you basically comatose.

Valeria Garza

The only way Valeria will actually relax for once is with your pussy in her face. Seriously, you've tried everything else: lavender baths, deep tissue massages, even trying to get her to meditate. But no, the only time you actually see her shoulders lose all their tension is when she's between your folds. She's had such a long day, vida, come sit on her face. She's not even groping you the way she usually does during sex, hands instead playing idly with the fat of your thighs and ass while all her worries melt away. There are no thoughts running through her mind aside from how good you taste, how pretty you sound and how nice you feel under her hands.

[luminni]

I'm very sick rn and my polish speaking bf has been calling me "my little Ślimak" so I asked him what that means and....slug. This mf calling me a slug bc I'm so congested.

Got me thinking about how I think könig would call you animal pet names all the time bc I feel like he's an avid nature documentary watcher when he's on leave.

You look cute when you're angry? "Oh I'm so sorry mein hase, what can I do to make it better?"

Feeling sleepy and buried under the covers? "Look at you, sweet mäuschen."

Flitting around trying to make him comfortable when he's just gotten back after deployment? "Don't worry little singvogel, I'm quite alright now that I'm back with you."

Being super clingy to him (which he loves) "like my own little klammeraffe, hm?"

Following him around the house? "You're just like a welpe around me you know sweetheart?"

Getting all dolled up to go on a date? "So beautiful, mein kleiner schmetterling"

After the first 3 months he doesn't even use your name anymore it's just one of thousands of pet names that he's come up with for you, and if one doesn't fit the situation he'll just come up with another one <3.

[konigsfavgirl]

꒰ pov. cutie König trying to wake you up, you aren't a morning person ꒱

König had been awake for at least an hour, already dressed, already restless. But you? You were still buried under the blankets, curled up like a stubborn little cocoon.

He sighed, kneeling beside the bed, his large hand gently nudging your shoulder. "Maus, wake up," he whispered, his voice warm but insistent.

You groaned in protest, burrowing deeper. He huffed a quiet laugh before leaning down, his breath brushing your ear. "If you don’t get up, I will carry you," he warned playfully. No reaction. A pause.

And then, without another word, König slipped his arms under you, effortlessly lifting you into the air, blankets and all. "Nooo—!" you whined, flailing weakly as he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Too late, little one. The day has begun."

[machveil]

NOW I HAVE WOAH he can konk me on the noggin’ any time

[ghouljams]

HOLY GUACAMOLE i was literally just posting, yearning fruitlessly for weeks, over the idea of mecha x reader x pilot, and then i find YOUR years-old cyberpunk Konig fics and it's like a straightup choir of angels was singing in my ears. And then I found your android!ghost stuff, which is also BEAUTIFUL

For what it's worth, as a robophiliac intruding into the CoD fandom, I think your writing is SO SWAG! When I started foraging for tactical gear, I didn't expect to find such delicious nuts and bolts!

I just think there's something really creamy about being able to lick the plate that should be a cock on a mech while still standing, wishing there was something you could wrap your hands around and only finding little crevices to hook your fingers in. Knowing that Konig is watching the way you lick and kiss at his mech's plating, and knowing just as well that the mech's optical sensors are trained on you. Knowing that somehow, somehow, there's a zip of electricity that passes between the pilot and his mech, that in some way they're able to think the same thing at the same time so that both of their hands cup the back of your head and press you closer.

And despite the fact that it's steel under your tongue you can almost taste the salt of a man's skin, almost feel the bump of a cock against the back of your throat, almost almost almost.

In the morning when you look at the neural scans from last night, you'll find a long period of perfect synchronicity and you'll know that the only difference between the man and his machine is what it can push down your throat.

[cod-indulgences]

König x female!reader, rimming (male and female), ass play, oral, handjobs, anal, light squirting, they're still sweet to each other

(this was supposed to be a quick blurb about konig getting rimmed what happened- under the cut for length)

König is already asleep when you get home. He's a big lump in the bed, dimly outlined by the little nightlight plugged in next to the door. He sleeps like the dead when he's with you- heavy slow breaths, a faint buzzing snore. A mountain of muscles sculpted by training and fighting, sleep-soft under your quilts. It's a sight that makes your heart thump, bleeding warmth through you, seeing your big, scary, special ops berserker so at peace among your clutter and coziness.

You're quiet getting into bed- shoes slipped off, clothes stripped away until your bare skin prickles in the cool air- slowly raising the blankets and settling in against König's broad back. He sighs a little when you kiss him right between his shoulder blades, just a little peck. Precious.

You kiss him again, again, and a little lower. He's so warm, blood-hot from being wrapped under the bedding, and you cuddle up closer. Another kiss. A little lower. Slowly, you work your way down his spine, kisses growing warmer and wetter. Your nose rubs against the line of a scar cutting over his side while you lick gently at his skin, tracing the shape of muscles with your tongue until you're at the full round curve of his ass.

You fucking love his ass. He's so sharp everywhere else, so oversized and angular, but here he's soft and cushiony. Full globes of muscles overlaid with squeezable fat, flexing as he walks, bends, shifts his weight. You set up a mirror on the wall opposite the bed just to be able to see him fucking into you, his thighs twitching as he comes, his ass bouncing with the force of his thrusts. The way he shivers and groans when you get your hands on him, spread his cheeks enough to rub down around his hole, his dick achingly hard in your pussy as you get a finger inside him, rub his prostate to force another load of come into you.

Tonight you're gentle though, trailing your tongue down the crack of his ass and sucking softly when you reach his hole. He's showered before bed, you can taste the soap, and when you lick a fat stripe up and over his hole he finally stirs.

"schatz...?" He mumbles, sleepy and confused, waking to your tongue and hands already on him. You push up on one thigh and move him a little, opening him up, and wriggle just the tip of your tongue in- oh, he's loose, he's been playing with himself.

Your heart and pussy throb together. Oh, you love this man.

You get a hand over his thigh and cup his cock, so soft and heavy, gently thumbing under the head as you spread saliva over his hole- and when you shove your tongue fully inside in the same moment you give him a nice firm stroke, he comes awake entirely, leg kicking out and his hips thrusting back against your face. He's too big for you to hold down at all, so instead you go for a ride: he rocks back and forth between your hand and tongue, shifting you both over the sheets. He's panting and you can feel the muscles of his ass and legs flexing as he is launched into a waking wet dream: a slurping wet mouth eating his hole like dessert, a soft hand pumping his cock, everything still draped in the shadows, half-real. He's moaning helplessly, and you can feel the rippling of his back muscles as he tries to spread his thighs open farther without dislodging your squeezing hand. His cockhead is fat in your palm, smooth and soft like a plum, leaking precome to wet your strokes. Your thumb rubbing under the head, teasing right where his foreskin pulls away, makes him whine and clench down hard enough your tongue is pushed out- that's fine, you're right back in again, using your other hand to pull his cheek open and give you more room to work him over with. A slap to it makes him bounce against the mattress and you do it again, dizzy with lust. Such a gorgeous ass, gorgeous man, rippling under your hand and mouth.

You're wet as sin but leave your hands on his body- what you want right now is this war machine to fall apart around you. You get it, too, König moaning into his pillow as his cock finally throbs and spills over your fingers, playing around the head until he whines from overstimulation. He's so easy when you do this, and the power of it is better than the simple physical pleasure. Your mouth pulls away from his hole with a wet pop, and you hear your own panting loud in the room.

König sprawls limply over the bed, grunting when you climb up his back, only rolling over when you push his shoulder. You're straddling his face like this, and he grins lust-drunk up at you when you tap your fingers to his lips. He opens them obediently, sucking his come off them, before you bring those same fingers up to your clit and rub, spreading the slick around your pussy back and forth, fanning the flames.

König grips your knee and opens your thighs wider, forcing your body to drop nearer his head, and you moan as his tongue curls up your thigh, following the streak of slick stuck to your skin. "Let me return the favor, Schatz," he says, and settles in, licking broad strokes up your pussy, around your fingers still rubbing your clit, and you grip his hair in your other hand. He's good, knows when to push his tongue inside and give you something to fuck down on, when to hold still, and it takes only a few minutes to bring yourself off on his face, grinding down and letting your weight settle on his face, briefly smothering him in your pussy as you come.

He's grinning still when you push up and off him, dropping onto the pillows with a blissful sigh. You're surprised when he follows you, kneeling up to spread your thighs open, knees lifted and bent over his elbows so that your pussy is propped up to the ceiling.

"That's not the favor I meant," he says, and bends his head to lick up a mouthful of your come- and then spits it out again onto your asshole, a creamy mess dripping down your ass as he dives in, tongue laving over you, working into your hole as you moan under him, thrown suddenly into new pleasure as he holds you still, keeping your ass up. He's more enthusiastic than you were, almost wild with it, and when he gets his whole tongue into you and curls it like he did in your pussy you nearly vibrate off the bed.

You're so wet it's obscene, dripping down to where König's tongue fucks in and out of your little hole, and your clit aches and pulses in a little orgasm when you clench down, even with nothing in your cunt. He's never done this before, and you hadn't pushed him on it even while you worked his ass open your yourself, knowing he'd either want to try or have his reasons not to. Fuck, you haven't even showered since morning- and it feels so filthy, so taboo to have his tongue in your ass and his lips sucking on your hole, even just after you were inside him, both of you wet and messy between your thighs now. He's eating you like you're delicious, some rare fruit he hadn't plucked yet, and your thighs start to tremble. You're going to come on his face again.

"König- fuck, baby, I need more, I'm so close," you gasp, and whine when instead he pulls away, as if he's done.

He pushes your knees all the way up to your chest, holding them there, and you realize what he's after as König fits the head of his cock to your worked-open asshole and presses inside, huge, hard again and so big, too big for such a small hole, somehow still fitting inside and filling you up. You're too breathless to moan, but your whole body thrums with pleasure, with the feeling of being taken in a place that shouldn't be taken at all, can't possibly fit the cock that's stretching your hole so much. You're going to be gaping when he's done and the thought makes your clit throb.

He pulls out, nearly all the way, just his cockhead nestled in your ass, and you can feel the way your hole squeezes down around it. You both moan together, before he's suddenly fucking in hard, steady thrusts that set you bouncing against him, ass slapping his hips with wet smacks- you're still dripping and slick, and making so much mess around your thighs, against König where he's fucking all the way into you. He's swearing in German as he pulls out, your ass clinging to his cock, before ramming broken moans out of your throat. You can't breathe around him, air jolted out of your lungs at each thrust in, ass molding to the shape of his cock. Your pussy flutters with the trembling in your thighs, seeking stimulation it doesn't need as your ass is fucked like a cocksleeve.

You're coming before you realize it, nothing touching your clit or pussy, just a sudden tilt over the edge, begging König not to stop, as your pussy clamps down on nothing and your ass onto the cock pounding your insides, the conflicting sensations flaring white-hot. You think you squirted a little- it's so wet, obscenely loud as König fucks his own come into you, moaning your name as he releases your legs to fall limp around him.

He pulls back out more carefully, and you whine at the stimulation, the feeling of his come squeezing out of your hole. You're both sweaty and panting, and you open your arms to him with grabby hands, the big Austrian settling over you like a blanket.

His arms come around you in a hug, and you plaster his face with kisses- you avoid his mouth, unsure if he'd mind with both your tongues so recently delving, but he sucks your bottom lip between his and draws you in, letting your bodies settle.

"made a mess, Schatz," he mumbles into your cheek. You wince- the wet spot is, hmm, less sexy than what made it.

Easily fixed- you have clean sheets and towels to soak it up. For the moment though it can wait. König is warm and soft and almost drifting back to sleep, worn out with two orgasms. One of your hands creeps down to cup his ass, squeezing a cheek fondly. He's so good to you, so eager to explore and play.

You quickly dip a finger into your pussy and settle it just against his hole, rubbing a little slick against it, feeling it wink at you, like it's saying goodnight. Let the wet spot wait- come morning you'll be adding to it anyway.

[machveil]

iconic

Go live….

tried this filter it looks good🤔

[frostbitten42]

Some general character reference sheets I made some time ago

[crucifxck]

[machveil]

Johnny is an absolute freak 24/7 and loud about it, Kyle is a freak 24/7 but can mask the fuck out of it

Simon is a freak at home and (silently) loud about it, Price is a freak at home and (vocally) subtle about it

König is a nervous freak 24/7 and panics about it, Horangi is a confident freak 24/7 and is proud of it

Nikto is a feral freak at home and sinks his teeth into you slowly, Krueger is a feral freak at home and keeps you caged in his arms

[bussyyeukie]

konig x witch!reader: Tales of witches spread across the land. They always had, and you’d heard every rendition, every addition of sin and atrocity that came with the name.

Wicked, wicked witches. Women murdered and outcast for hallucinations and illness, how disgusting. All the tales of how cruel and ugly they were, ragged hags who lured children, who were decrepit and decomposing. Alone in their caves and huts.

Every whisper of it made your nose scrunch, made your stomach twist. How could they ever know? They’d never even seen a witch, they let their fear and their paranoia rule their societies. Every time you had to venture into town the eyes never left you, as sweet and kind as you were. Never raised your voice at a villager, never harmed anything. Always paid more than what you owe. Their crops rarely ever failed. The game was always large and the weather never as bad as it should have been.

Yet still, witches were evil, vicious creatures that ate babies and caused plague, that cursed and killed. So evil they had to be burned, hung, torn apart. To cleanse the land of their sin.

Your brows twitched and your hand squeezed tighter into a fist as the peach you clutched exploded. The flesh of it mangled in your fist, the juice dripping down into the plate in front of you. A harsh breath escaping your lips. 

“Evil,” you shook your head, before you gingerly placed the peach down onto the place, the sweet smell of it lingering in the air, “How darest they utter such a thing…”

You wiped your hand on the apron tied around your waist, the skirts under it bulky. Your feet padded against the floor as you walked to the basket by your door. Leaning to lift the blanket over it, grumbling in an irritated way and you snapped back up. Stomping a foot in an almost childish manner.

“Ugh, and now I am bereft of peaches,” your lips pursed as you looked to the side. Grabbing the thick shall laying on the chair by the large fireplace and roaring fire you threw it around you. The thick smell of smoke, anise and angelica filling the house. 

Your hair spilled over your shoulders and rolled down your back, grabbing the basket and fully removing the blanket over it. Wind chills your face as you open the door. You never got fully cold, nor hot, but you still felt the temperature outside.

Outside your house, about a ten minute walk away, was an orchard, a variety of trees in it–all growing surprisingly well for the time of year. Apple trees, apricots, peaches, oranges, figs, you name it. The walk was always nice, never another living person even close to it, and the animals were always calm. Taken care of and docile towards you.

The trees around you were full, the sweet smell surrounding you, reaching the edge of the rochard where the peaches were. The tree heavy with the pink-orange fruit.

You licked your lips, reaching up and grabbing the fruit. The air was quiet, just the sound of the light rustling of animals in the foliage. Until a heavy scent reached your nose, thick and metal and rotten. Your face rolled into disgust and you looked around. Your basket reached the ground as you followed the scent, frowning as it grew stronger. Steps silent, moving almost weightless as you walked, winding down from your orchard and into a hiding of thick trees. The hand is what you saw first, skin prickling as you followed it up to the arm, and then the head, which was face down in the mud. You ventured closer, eyes widening as you saw the size of the man laying there. His clothes were nearly too small for him, and a knife laid discarded feet away from him. Pooling of thick blood around him, covering the cloth and his porcelain skin. He wasn’t breathing, in fact he was completely motionless.

Your steps grew more tentative as you grew closer, till you were standing right over him. You crouched down, looking the man over. Sighing, it was nearly a shame such a pinnacle of a man was dead. You hadn’t seen someone this size in…years, decades nearly. Hand reaching out to him, you placed it softly on his back, nearly jerking it away at the shooting of energy up your arm, tingling residing in your fingertips.

A chuckled bubbling at your lips, “Alive, is it?”

With a sigh you looked out at the woods, then back to the man, still face down in the mud, glancing down to his feet, shoeless. His feet caked in mud and probably cut. Your brows pinched, then dig your hands under him, standing as you grunted, flipping him over. Letting out a huff at the struggle, he was as heavy as he was big.

There was an eerie chill that ran up your spine as you looked at him, at his face. He was handsome, chopped hair sticking to his face with the mud, his nose obviously broken, and he had gashes littering his skin. 

It was like wolves got to him, or a bear, or someone who really did not care for the colossus of a man.

“Thou poor soul, what hast thou done to merit this?”

Your hands ran over his chest, before pulling it back and seeing the dark liquid covering your skin. Looking back to the man's face, your muscles tensed to a near solid state.

He was looking at you.

Eyes bloodshot and drooping.

“Thou…an angel in hell…?”

His voice was dark, raspy. Ringing into the cold air around you two. It almost made the still air colder. Your brows pinched together, licking your teeth under your lips.

“Thou art dying, thou knowest this, dost thou not?”

He blinked slowly, and tried lifting his head up, only to let out a throaty groan as his eyes rolled back, head falling back against the ground. Your eyes were trained on him, knees touching down in the mud under the man, leaning down next to his ear, lips just barely brushing against the marred skin. Voice airy and light on your tongue.

“Wouldst thou live?”

There was a beat of silence before the man's head twitched towards you, a shallow breath rattling through him.

“Why would I desire to live…if I be seen as a monster…”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, fingers spreading wide, as you pressed your hand firmly to his chest, and flesh molding to you and the thick feeling of his heartbeat rattling against your bones. Lips pressing closer to his ear, voice echoing into him in a honeysuckle sweet tone.

“Wouldst thou live deliciously?”

The man gulped, you felt his gaze on you, weak as he was, his arm jerked up, hand shaking and curled in on itself. Until it gripped onto your wrist, squeezing it as tight as he could. The skin of his hand frigid on yours with the tingling rang through yet again.

His head weakly lifted up again till his mouth was near your ear, his breath quick and weak.

“...y-yes frau…”

The smile on your face grew, cheeks pulling as your eyes cut into the forest in front of you. Hand pressing harsher into his chest, muscles taught under your skin as the man's head fell back to the ground.

“Then I shall save thee, my fair little one…”

A groan left the man's lips as you stood, feet and knees muddy, palms covered in the dark rich blood that seeped from him. Looking down at him, the titan body laid out in the foliage, ripped and torn. The cold creeped up around him, and pulled him into the earth.

The lumbering sound of footsteps rang through the house. Thick smells of earth and musty like jericho. A smile twitched at your lips as you sat in front of the fire. The wood floor in front of you empties all for the scribblings on the floor, and the candles and strewn about herbs and the dead dove in the middle. Laid on its back with its wings opened wide. The golden white color of it shining in the light of the fire, your face illuminated as well. A pristine butterfly laying above the head of the dove. Skin sweaty in the light, only wearing a bunched skirt that had smearings of oils and charcoal on it.

You turned to look behind you, eyes shining as you looked at the shadowed figure standing a few feet behind you. Heart hammering in your chest, and your breathing picking up as your eyes dragged up the muddy figure.

“Thou hast done this…”

The giggles that jabbed against your throat were barely contained as you stood, body moving lanky and like you were approaching a wild beast. His voice was rough and raw, face shadowed in the darkness.

You watched as his hand tentatively pulled to his stomach, pressing his hand to it as he felt up and around his abdomen. Like he was scared he’d still find himself cut open.

“Not to thy, liking?”

Your smile stretched wide as you tilted your head. The man nearly didn’t fit inside your house, his clothing was dripping wet, soaked and caked onto his body.

“It…” the man's tongue caught in his throat, swallowing thick as he took a step forward, hesitating a bit as he did, moving further into the light of the fire, “I was dead…”

You stepped to the side, splaying your arm out at the ritual laid in front of the fire.

“Naught that I could not mend, lahm,” you said, scrunching your nose in an endearing way, poking fun at the man's thick germanic accent.

The man leaned down, bringing his full face into the view of the light, he was littered with scarring, an especially gnarly looking one pulling from near his ear to his top lip, tugging it up. Even with the frown he wore. His dull and muddy blue eyes locked onto you.

“Why, frau?”

You couldn’t help but admire his face, even with the scarring, and the pale skin, he had a strong nose and full brows. Your hand was brought up and wiped some of the layered mud off of his face, booping him on the nose.

“Life is precious, and I shall not abide the way 'twas torn from thee ere thy time,” you grinned at him, leaning in a bit, till your faces were mere inches apart, “Not to disturb the natural order, but oft must tweaks be wrought.”

The man looked at you longer, then stood up. Lifting one of his bear paw hands and gripping your shoulder, his eyes darting up and down your body as he moved his hand more towards the back of your neck and away from your chest, ever respectful.

“Thou dost play with life’s fate?” he asked, chuckling to himself, “How fortunate am I that thou hast found me, ah frau?”

You gripped his wrist, thumbing at the skin exposed, scraping your nails along his goosebumps flesh.

“Aye, how truly fortunate thou art…”

[ghostmoon1]

Pretty boy :3

[beloveds-embrace]

Telling Ghost/König you are too heavy for him to pick up or sit on his face, and he doesn’t say anything at first so you think he just accepted it even if your heart kinda twinged a little in pain because you know you are just not skinny enough-

Only for him to send you a video the next day: in the gym, looking mighty hot in a compression shirt and sweatpants just a touch low on his hips, and lifting a bar with ease. On a closer look? The weighs attached to the bar weigh far more than you do. And he so easily maneuvers and controls and manhandles it…

Between the heat curling in your stomach, face pink and thighs clenched shut, you almost miss the incoming text.

Never too heavy for me, doll.