#könig call of duty

[machveil]

OKAY I’m a fanfic writer, I deserve to be a little delusional

König having a little YouTube channel. when you look at him you’d think he’d make videos on antique weapons, different blades and their history, or maybe old military equipment. he wouldn’t blame you, he does collect said weapons. of course, you could also wager he’d make videos on documentaries and movies he’s watched. he’s an opinionated man, loves to talk about old war documentaries and horror films, but you’d be wrong again

König likes to record little cooking videos. when he’s home on leave he’ll take clips of himself shopping - he prefers the local farmers market, but the grocery is nothing he’d scoff at. he gets up early to have first pick over fruits and vegetables, takes a moment to look at fresh loaves and sweet treats. the real magic is in the kitchen, always precise with measurements and handling a knife. he doesn’t really talk, doesn’t write out subtitles for the videos, just lets his cooking speak for itself

König who’s known to have a certain someone cameo in his recordings, your mumbled ‘hello’s and ‘good morning’s murmured in the background, the soft pad of your feet as you walk around. he always plates up his food carefully, big hands arranging little pieces of fruit ever so slightly. sets the table, his phone angled at the spread - fresh cut fruit, your favorite breakfast items, refreshing drinks. neither of you are fully in view, it’s really just your hands and the meal, but that’s all he cares to record. his videos always end after you try a little bit of everything, satisfied that he made you something you enjoyed - he awkwardly waves at the camera before stopping the recording

the captions for his videos follow a similar format, “breakfast for my liebling”, or, “surprise dinner for date night”. Horangi found his channel after snooping on the Colonel’s phone, he’s his number one fan and top viewer

[harpsinfinity]

Throw back to this thing

Simon "Ghost" Riley, könig and Captain John price eating you out

Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, pet names, very badly translated German

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This man will literally have you ANYWHERE. In the kitchen, the shower, the bathroom of a bar. He'll have you in a mating press, knees up to your shoulders. If there's nowhere to lay you down? He'll get on his knees. Nose nudging your clit as he licks hot stripes up your dripping entrance. Simon can't get enough of the sounds you make. He will almost always leave bruises on your hips from his grip, he knows you love it anyway. He'll make your legs so weak that you won't be able to walk the next day, so he'll carry you around and then eat you out for hours again to repay him for carrying you.

"Jus' one more fr'me Lovie, c'mon"

Captain John price

Would pepper little kisses and bites on your inner thighs until your begging him to help with the mess between your legs. He'd make you cum just from your clit, sucking and rubbing it until it's swollen and throbbing with need, ignoring your entrance. That's for his cock only. He loves it when your thighs squeeze and shake around his head, watching your head fall back and your eyes rolling back into your skull. Loves to hear your whines and moans as he works on you, every time you try to squirm away he'd grap you by your hips and pin you back down, making you gasp when he lightly slaps your pussy for trying to get away from his hungry mouth.

"Don't run away now Love, take it"

König

He eats you out practically anytime he can, he does it for him, groaning as he works his tongue inside of you. He will eat you like it's his last meal, obscene noises coming from in-between your legs, making your face flush with embarrassment. He'll devour you for HOURS, you'll be too sensitive and overstimulated, trying to push his head away. But he just takes your wrists and pins your hands down by your sides as he keeps going, eliciting more squeals from you. Every orgasm feels like an out of body experience, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. You'd be shaking and quivering under him, not knowing how much more you can take as he just goes wild with his mouth. He'd feel your swollen bundle of nerves throb on his tongue before making you finish for the umpteenth time. He would BEG you to let him eat you out again, even though your all sore and sensitive :((

"Please schatz, one more time"

[luxcuriousao3]

König fucks you dog style wearing a collar and leash, and whines and whimpers so sweetly every time you tug on it. He begs to come in your pussy--"Please, Mommy, please!"--and if he's been a good boy you let him, but if not, you make him come all over himself instead, then tell him he looks pretty like that.

[konigofmyheart]

okay but delivery driver könig who’s always picked to do the large deliveries (appliances, furniture, bulk items) meeting you…

he’s at his favorite stop, an animal shelter where the nice old lady who’s in charge just tells him where to put the giant sacks of kibble, signs the release form, and quickly sends him on his way, except… linda had a dentist appointment today, and you were tasked with receiving the food. he usually hates chatty people, but when you start asking him random questions about his job as he’s unloading sack after sack of food into the storage closet, he finds himself answering, quietly, but answering all the same, for once. what really seals the deal is when you compliment him for being so strong, marveling at his arms (“wow, you could crush my head with those things!”), and now he’s ducking his head, pretending to check one of the feed bags for damage to hide the light dusting of a blush on his face, even though the black surgical mask he wears hides it pretty well…

needless to say, suddenly you’re very interested in taking over linda’s package duty and könig’s rushing through any other deliveries to have time to linger at the shelter, unloading each sack as s l o w as possible to talk with you for longer. <3

[koenig-askblog]

This reminds me of someone...

Siberian Tiger - Wildlife

[falltoodeepinmymetaphor]

LIKE A PRAYER

i dont usually write like this anymore but i was feeling nostalgic so! ill release better stuff soon nuff

könig is a barren field.

there’s nothing alive under his hands. nothing that breathes, nothing that blooms. the shape of his palms doesn’t cradle, doesn’t hold.

only takes. only presses.

his fingers curl wrong, like they’ve been broken and pieced back together too many times, always in the wrong places, always in the wrong ways.

they look like something trying to be gentle but not knowing how.

and yet here you are.

gods have mercy, here you are.

the light finds you first. it always does.

it slides through the curtains, a crooked benediction, and stretches itself thin across your arm, the soft slope of your shoulder.

the light knows. it must. it bends for you, trembling at the altar of your skin. it searches for the place where divinity lives- just beneath your clavicle, deep inside the cathedral of your ribs.

könig understands. he understands.

your spine curves to meet his chest, and it feels like prayer. not the kind they teach in holy books. not the clean hum of hymns in a whitewashed chapel, but something raw.

something bloody.

something with teeth.

something that begs.

and you give. god, you give.

you stretch in your sleep, your breath steady and deep, your heartbeat thundering beneath the fragile cage of your ribs. it feels like an offering. it feels like forgiveness.

he doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t know how to hold it. doesn’t know how to hold you.

he only knows how to ruin the things he touches. love had always been a kind of violence, and now he does not know how to want without carving himself open in the process.

he asked god once, “why me?” he said into the floorboards of a house that swallowed him whole.

he wanted a reason.

something better than 'you are an unlovable, wretched thing, i wish you were never born, you ruined my life-'

he wanted more than cruelty.

and now here you are— the answer.

you, spelled out in the exhale against his neck, in the way your hand drifts to find his without asking, in the heat of your breath and the fragility of your sleep.

you. you. you.

you, curled here in his bed like a truth he isn’t holy enough to keep. like the answer to a prayer he’s been screaming into the void his whole life.

the atoms of the world rearranging themselves,

saying: i’m sorry.

saying: this.

saying: stay.

he thinks of it often. the way his hands once trembled, empty. the way they tremble now, full. how everything soft feels like a wound.

it embarrasses him, the hunger. the way he’s built his life on loneliness and now he is nothing but ruin in the face of your turning.

how you have undone him by simply being here, sunlight pooling at your feet, half-lost in his blankets.

he wants to tell you. wants to wake you, wants to put his mouth on your name and say: you are all there is. you are all there ever will be.

wants to ask, how do you do it? how do you look at me like i’m not broken?

wants to promise, i will learn to be gentle. i will learn to love without breaking.

but he doesn’t.

he presses his lips to the crown of your head, his hands to the ghost of your ribs, and stays quiet. quiet, and ruined.

alive only in the shape of your breath against his spine.

when his hand finds your waist, he doesn’t expect you to move. but you do. shifting, turning, pressing your hand to his cheek with a tenderness he cannot bear.

he leans into it, heart fracturing, and presses his lips to the center of your palm.

“good morning,” you murmur, voice heavy with sleep.

he wants to say it back, wants to give you something ordinary, something small, but the words that fall from his lips: “i love you.”

you blink, nose wrinkling the way it always does, and it nearly destroys him. his heart lurches, aching in a way that feels like the first crack of spring against a frozen earth.

“that’s not ‘good morning,’” you say, your voice soft, teasing.

his lips curve, a small, crooked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “no,” he says, his accent wrapping itself around the words, “but they say it is good to start the day with truth.”

you laugh, and it is sunlight breaking through stained glass, filling the hollow places inside him he thought would always remain empty. he feels it settle, warm and aching, in the spaces he has spent a lifetime trying to forget.

when you pull him closer, your mouth finding his, it feels like something inevitable, like gravity, like falling.

“tell me,” you whisper, your voice so close it doesn’t sound like a question, more like a promise. “what are you thinking?”

it feels like every prayer he’s ever whispered into the dark, unanswered and aching, has come back to him all at once. in the shape of you. you. the heat of your lips, the way your hands tangle in his hair like you’ve always known the way, like this was always supposed to happen, like it was written somewhere before either of you were born.

his hands shake when they settle on your waist, not steadying you but steadying himself.

he leans his forehead against yours like he needs the contact to stay tethered, like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“you,” he says, and it’s the only word that fits in his mouth. “just you.”

you smile, soft, dangerous, and kiss him again, deeper, slower, until his breath catches, until his fingers dig into your hips like you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

he shifts, pulling you over him, his touch hesitant, reverent, careful in a way that makes your chest ache.

you laugh, your fingers tracing lazy patterns against his skin. “you don’t have to be so careful.”

“let me anyway.”

when he lowers you back onto the mattress, his weight pressing you down, he doesn’t move for a minute.

just looks at you like he’s trying to figure out how you exist, how he ended up here, how any of this is real.

his hands skim your body, slow, deliberate, memorizing.

“you’re staring,” you murmur, voice quiet, lips curling into something soft.

“i am.” his voice breaks at the edges. “i can’t stop. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to this. to you.”

you lift your hand to his face, fingers gentle against his jaw, pulling his gaze back to yours. “then don’t,” you say. “love me new everyday.”

he exhales, shaky, uneven, like he’s been holding it in for too long. the words come out before he can stop them.

“i love you.” his voice cracks, raw, like it costs him something to say it, like it leaves him open and exposed, bleeding out.

you don’t answer.

instead, you pull him down, kiss him like you’re stitching him back together, and he kisses you like he’s unraveling, like it’s the only way to keep himself whole.

when he takes you again, it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to say everything he doesn’t know how to put into words.

your name slips out of him like a prayer, his breath warm against your neck, his hands shaking as they map the curve of your body.

he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes shut tight, like he can’t bear to look at you and can’t bear to look away.

“you make me feel…” he begins, but the words catch, refusing to surface. his voice fractures.

“it’s alright,” you whisper, your hands running down his back, anchoring him. “i know.”

and isn’t that it?

you know.

you know better than he does. than he ever will.

[koeni9in]

Cozy sunday, bloody König <3

[writingfromasgard]

Flashpoint [König]

AN: gif source

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open

Synopsis: A follow up from this post; You surprise König in a lacey lingerie and his reaction is surprisingly sweet.

An: this has been sitting in my drafts since August LMAO

König's hulking form is hunched over you, droll dripping from his teeth. more than a few luxuries that he benefits as a Colonel. An off-base home, a larger office, a larger desk, and.. a larger pay check. That's what most recruits want when they think of climbing the ladder. For him, it was getting to meet you. There was a party to celebrate his promotion and Horangi dragged you as a friend. You two have been together after a few awkward dates and are on the road to living together in his mind.

He's got a few weeks worth of your clothes at his house, your personal care products, your preferred snacks, and you stay over often. It's nice coming home to cook with you. The two of you have eaten, getting ready for bed when you whistle. He looks up, mouth dropping open as you reveal yourself. Lace the color of his eyes forms a pretty choker around your neck and that's the only thing you have on.

"What is.. Oohh.. Oh.. That.. ist for me? Thank you? Thank you. Thank you so much, Häschen. Come here? Can I touch?"

You laugh at his reaction. It's endearing how he stumbles over his own emotions and words. When you walk to him, he looks paralyzed, unsure where to touch first, hands reaching out then pulling back. You let out another laugh, putting your arms on his shoulders with a smile.

His hands grapple your hips, dragging you closer. He kissed your stomach before stuffing his face between your breasts. He squishes your breasts against his head, groaning. You trying hard not to laugh again. He looks up at you, eyes filled with admiration. You whispered that you're just naked and he drops his hand down to your ass, squeezing it.

"Wunderschön. Beautiful."

You kiss his lips softly, pushing on his chest to get him to lay back. It's difficult to straddle him and he's looking up at you like you're his personal goddess. His gaze is so appreciative, sending goosebumps over your skin. You kiss him again, his hands sliding up your sides, squeezing every so often.

[amagialp]

Beneath the mask (könig x reader short fic)

!!!MINORS DNI, SLIGHT SMUT!!! my requests are open<3

"König’s massive presence looms over you, every inch of him exuding control, but it’s the way he holds back, so gentle yet teetering on the edge of primalness that sets your skin alight."

The room feels smaller with König in it, his towering frame swallowing the space as easily as he consumes your breathless attention. His mask remains on, shadowing those piercing blue eyes that flicker with an intensity that should terrify you, but only ignites something darker within.

"You like that, Liebling?" His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder threatening to break. His gloved fingers trace up your thigh, deliberate and teasing, until he hooks under your waistband and pulls, snapping the fabric apart like it’s nothing.

You gasp, the sound caught between fear and raw, molten want. He leans down, his chest heaving against yours, the cool fabric of his mask brushing over your neck as he whispers, "I’ve been so careful with you. But I don’t think you want that, do you?"

The words tumble through you, pooling heat low in your stomach. You shake your head, hands grasping at the hem of his combat shirt, desperate for something to hold onto.

"No?" His chuckle is dark, sinful, and he presses against you, letting you feel just how hard he is through the thick layers of his gear. "Then beg for it, schatz. Let me hear you."

And you do.

When he finally takes you, it’s overwhelming, his strength, his size, the barely-contained roughness in every thrust that has you clawing at his back, begging for more. He growls your name like a prayer, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he drives you closer to the edge.

Every snap of his hips, every filthy promise he mutters against your ear, feels like a firestorm you’re helpless to resist. And when he finally lets go, filling you with a guttural groan that vibrates through your body, you know you’re ruined.

Ruined, and desperate for more...

!!REMINDER!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

[machveil]

ZombieApocalypse!AU where König is immune. he got bit early on and does carry the virus, but he won’t turn. he still has to disinfect wounds and treat them, but the thing that hurts him the most is he can’t kiss you out of fear he’ll infect you

this poor man gives you the most miserable, wet puppy eyes while sighing heavily. he would give anything for his chapped lips to be on yours. man is dreaming vividly about messily, sloppily kissing you - drool and spit and teeth. wakes up heartbroken that the best he can do is peck you through his mask. he’s a battering ram of a man and a trained sniper, not to mention he’s low-key a survivalist. he can handle the apocalypse just fine, the thing that’s driving him crazy is the pent up need to smother himself with you

[simplysobbing]

Me asf in bed while I listen to those sound game konig audios. (Featuring my hello kitty headphones and my plushie of Rafael from love and deep space)

[luxcuriousao3]

Mutter (Chapter Two)

Summary: He always did this. Got attached to the first person to show him the slightest bit of affection. Even the betas he hooked up with. He had to keep their trysts as impersonal as possible, because otherwise he would fall in love with them. It was why he never took them back to fuck in his quarters, why he never removed his mask. He hadn’t kissed a woman in years, not since the older beta prostitute who had taken his virginity. She’d pitied him when he cried against her breasts as he fucked into her clumsily and called her mummy. He’d fallen for her right then, promised he would take care of her and treat her well and take her away from that life. She’d given him a sad smile and said he was a sweet boy, but had rejected him nonetheless. He’d paid her twice the agreed upon amount and never saw her again, burning with shame as he ran out of the dirty motel room. Word Count: 4471 Warnings: mentioned smut, mentions of past domestic/sexual abuse, mentions of past prostitution, König has mommy issues and also self-esteem issues and also intimacy issues (he can still get it tho), *** means POV switch, and -*- means timeskip but no POV switch. Notes The next chapter of Dove isn't ready to be published yet, so I figured I'd update this fic with the last of the prewritten chapters I have for it while y'all wait. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist

The following two weeks progressed painfully slowly for König.

The only time he ever got to take his mask off was when he was in the shower, now. He found himself lingering until the water ran cold just so he could enjoy the freedom of it.

That wasn't the only reason his showers had grown longer, though.

He’d tried to have Lelia shop for a few things online, but she’d seemed to think it was some sort of trade—if he bought her proper clothes, she would have to let him fuck her. He’d tried to explain again that that wasn't the case, but she’d only grown confused and agitated. It almost made him think she wanted him to fuck her—if it weren’t for the fear souring her scent when she’d dropped to her knees in front of him after he handed her his phone with an online clothes shop pulled up.

He'd had to retreat to the shower after that to fuck his fist, the other stuffed in his mouth to muffle his cries of pleasure. The sight of her kneeling in front of him, wearing those pretty pink pajamas, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes—it was too much. He’d been so ashamed afterwards, especially when he realized the scent of his arousal had leaked out of the toilet and into his quarters proper. Lelia had been hiding under the blankets in her nest when he’d come out, clearly trying to escape the overpowering pheromones. He’d stuttered an embarrassed apology and fled the room.

He hadn’t tried to get her to pick out new clothes again.

Instead, he’d requested some from the program. They had arrived that same day, three plain, white, long sleeved shirts, and three plain, white pairs of joggers. They were all made of the same rough, itchy cotton. Lelia had been unable to hide her disgust at the sight of them, though she’d quickly tried to wipe the amusing expression away.

She’d worn the clothes for one day. Her miserable scent had made him so sick he’d simply thrown them away that night without saying anything. She hadn’t protested, and the next day she’d been back to wearing her comfortable lingerie-pajamas. And König had gone back to suffering from a permanent hard on.

He’d debated going to see Isa or one of his usual betas again, but remembering Lelia’s small, stuttering voice admitting that it hurt her omega to smell someone else on him was enough to turn him off from the idea.

It was frustrating, how she had been forced into his life and yet was too sweet for him to properly resent her for it. Because as much as her continued fear of him hurt, she also kept making his bed and cleaning his boots every day, no matter how many times he told her she didn't have to. Though he’d never been particularly messy, she kept his room spick and span, all clothes folded or hung up, not a single speck of dust anywhere. She even lined up the few trinkets he had on his desk, and after seeing how he’d fiddled with them once while he did paperwork, she began to leave them in more… creative positions. He would come back to find them all in a circle, as if having an intense meeting, or staggered like they were on a battlefield. A new scene every time, and it never failed to make him smile beneath his hood.

She was adorable. And König was having a harder and harder time telling himself he didn’t want her.

He always did this. Got attached to the first person to show him the slightest bit of affection. Even the betas he hooked up with. He had to keep their trysts as impersonal as possible, because otherwise he would fall in love with them. It was why he never took them back to fuck in his quarters, why he never removed his mask. He hadn’t kissed a woman in years, not since the older beta prostitute who had taken his virginity. She’d pitied him when he cried against her breasts as he fucked into her clumsily and called her mummy. He’d fallen for her right then, promised he would take care of her and treat her well and take her away from that life. She’d given him a sad smile and said he was a sweet boy, but had rejected him nonetheless.

He’d paid her twice the agreed upon amount and never saw her again, burning with shame as he ran out of the dirty motel room.

Even the memory made his face heat up with humiliation and self disgust. König knew he was pathetic. Getting better at sex and having numerous women happily bounce on his cock—without being paid to—didn’t change that. Especially when none of them wanted anything more.

The situation with Lelia was different, though. There was little he could do to distance himself from her, with her living in his quarters. And that the kindness she showed him had nothing to do with sex only made it more difficult to ignore.

He sighed as he stood outside the door of his room, two trays of food in hand. It was lunch time, and König had quickly realized that if he didn’t bring Lelia food, she simply wouldn’t eat, as she seemed to have no desire to leave her nest, let alone his room. That was for the best, he knew, it wouldn't be safe for her to wander around base herself—but he hadn't thought about the fact that he would have to feed her until he heard her pass out in the toilet while brushing her teeth on her third day with him. When he’d rushed her to medical, he was told she was malnourished, and when she’d calmly informed him upon waking up that she hadn’t eaten since being assigned to him, he’d been horrified. The look the nurse gave him—not Isa, thankfully, though he expected she’d hear about his failures as an Alpha soon enough—made him feel far smaller than his 208 centimetres.

He’d plied Lelia with double portions and extra desserts for several days in apology, giving up his own favorite treats for her. She’d been suspicious at first, but after the third meal, she’d given him a tiny, hesitant smile and saved him the last few bites of vanilla pudding.

She was still afraid of him though. Not as much, and not always, but sometimes the sour scent of it would spike, and she'd hide under the blankets in her nest, shaking. He tended to leave her alone during those times, finding that was the most effective way to get her fear to abate. He could smell it now, leaking out from under the crack in his door, but he couldn't leave without dropping off her lunch, at least. So he quietly opened it, setting her tray down on his desk. He was already turning to go back to the mess hall when he heard it.

“Please… Andrew, s-stop… n-no, don’t… please… please… h-hurts!”

König froze, head swiveling to stare hard at the desk, listening to the terrified whimpers and sniffles that came from under it. He only hesitated for a second before his tray was set down next to Lelia’s and he was kneeling on the ground, peering into her nest. She was asleep, eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears streamed down her face, pretty mouth downturned, bottom lip wobbling. She twitched violently, as if she was trying to fight someone off, but was being restrained. Pinned.

Lelia cried out in pain, neck tilting to expose her scent gland. For the first time, it wasn’t covered by her hair, and König’s stomach dropped as he noticed the angry looking red scars across it. Mating bites that had been rejected. Dozens of them layered upon each other without a single ounce of care.

Omegas could reject an Alpha’s claim on them, even if they’d been bitten, but it was extremely painful, and left terrible scars, both physical and mental. It was also seen as quite taboo, with most omegas being deemed undesirable if they did.

That was why it was so rare, and omegas often ended up in abusive relationships. They were too scared of the consequences of rejecting even a forced mating. Of course, while it usually had to be a conscious choice on the omega’s part, sometimes the mating was so traumatizing that their body would automatically reject the bond. If that happened, then the Alpha who’d bitten them would never be able to claim that omega, no matter how many times they tried.

And clearly, someone had tried. Lelia had been violated over and over and over again.

Suddenly, König felt foolish for taking her fear personally. He remembered that distant look in her eyes the first day, the one he’d known spoke of trauma. But he just—he hadn’t thought it was that sort of trauma. Why would she have volunteered for a program like this if she had been abused so terribly? Surely, she knew the risks of it happening again…

Perhaps she didn't have any other options, a voice in his head said, cold and logical. An unmated omega with so many rejected claim scars… no one would want her.

“Oh, Schatz,” he said softly, reaching into her nest to pet her hair soothingly. She turned into his hand, still asleep, and breathed in deeply. He projected his most calming scent, and she began to relax, the little furrow between her brows smoothing out. “I am not like him. I will not hurt you.”

I want you, he thought but didn’t say. There was no use denying it anymore. He was smitten with the sweet little omega that had been forced upon him. He sighed. He would be patient. He would go slow, and keep showing her that he wasn’t a threat. And perhaps, if he proved what a good Alpha he could be, she would want him too, someday.

***

Something was different about the Colonel.

First, that he no longer wanted her to call him that or Sir. He’d tensed when she’d said the latter that night as she thanked him for dropping off lunch while she was asleep, even if the thought that someone had been in the same room as her while she was sleeping made her skin crawl.

“You may call me König,” he told her after a moment. When she'd just blinked at him in surprise, he reached up under his ever present mask to scratch his chin, radiating awkwardness. “Please.”

König was the strangest Alpha she had ever met.

He was also the nicest, which was perhaps part of the oddness. Lelia had learned the hard way that nice Alphas only existed in story books and films, not real life.

But König fed her regularly—at least after the first few days—and brought her books that she stared longingly at but refused to touch. He’d even tried to get her new clothes, and not just the terrible, uncomfortable joggers and t-shirts that the program provided for free. But when Lelia had tried to repay him, as she knew was expected of her, he’d freaked out and gone off to the shower to touch himself instead. Lelia wasn’t sure how she’d messed that up, but she’d received no nice clothes, and so she’d gotten the message loud and clear that she had. She hadn’t been so forward since, just waited for the day to come when he yanked her out of her nest, threw her onto the bed and had his way with her.

Except a whole two weeks had gone by and that day hadn’t come. And now her constant fear was replaced by constant confusion. Even Rodolfo, who had been far nicer than Andrew— despite whoring her out to the club’s customers—hadn’t given her more than a day to adjust before taking her. He hadn't tried to claim her, though, as he already had a wife. She was just his favorite toy on the side.

Lelia hadn’t minded that. She’d played the part of wife once before. She had no interest in doing so again, for anyone.

That was why she had been pleased when König had asserted that he didn't want her—at least once he’d agreed to accept her anyway, that was. She would have been sent back to Andrew if he didn’t. But instincts aside, living with an Alpha that didn't want to try and claim her, even if he still used her, was ideal. Especially if she was good enough that he treated her decently.

But König had thrown a wrench in her plans by categorically refusing to fuck her, because she was afraid of him. That had never stopped an Alpha before, in her experience. In fact, it had only ever made Andrew more aroused.

Hence the constant confusion.

As she and König ate dinner in silence—her sitting at his desk, since she didn't want to risk spilling food in her nest and having to wash out her scent, and him sitting on his bed—she watched him. He still didn’t take his mask off all the way, only lifting it enough to reveal his mouth with each bite. He had a strong jaw dusted in light-colored stubble and several scars. And, to Lelia’s surprise, there were the little metal rings in his bottom lip.

“Did those hurt?” She asked, causing König to freeze, hood dropping back down as he looked up at her with shocked blue eyes. She supposed that was fair. She had initiated conversation with him approximately three times since they'd met. She wasn’t sure why she was doing so now. Perhaps his oddness was rubbing off on her.

“What?” He croaked, and she touched her fingers to her lip, rubbing it. König’s ocean blue eyes followed the movement intently for a moment before he snapped himself out of it. “The piercings? Nein, not really. The tattoos were far worse.”

Lelia tilted her head to the side curiously.

“You have tattoos?”

König chuckled, eyes crinkling, and it was Lelia’s turn to be shocked. She had never heard him laugh before. Not truly. Just the short huffs of amusement he let out whenever he saw the formations she left his figurines in. She always smiled to herself under her blankets when she heard it. She was a good omega, even if she wasn’t his omega.

“Ja, Schatz. I have tattoos. Very many,” he answered, setting his tray on the bed to roll up his sleeves. Lelia's eyes widened a bit. His forearms—which were about as thick as her thighs—were absolutely covered in ink.

“Wow,” Lelia said, leaning in a little bit, entranced by all the different designs. She reached out without thinking, a single finger lightly tracing the outline of a wolf on his right arm. König’s breath hitched, and Lelia quickly withdrew. “Do they go all the way up?”

König didn’t respond for a moment, and Lelia worried she had messed up again, ruining the fragile peace they’d created. But then he nodded.

“Ja,” he repeated, beginning to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, seeming nervous. Lelia thought his occasional bouts of shyness were cute—a word she never thought she’d attribute to an Alpha. She chalked it up to just another welcome symptom of his oddness. “Would you… would you like to see?”

Lelia hesitated, but then nodded. It wasn't like König needed a ruse to take her, if that was what he was going to do. Perhaps this was his way of asking if she wanted it? If so, the answer was… complicated. There had been a budding feeling of emptiness inside her ever since she’d been taken into KORTAC’s custody, and was no longer being fucked every night. She had never wanted what had happened to her, never wanted Andrew or Rodolfo or any of his customers. Had never enjoyed it, either. But her omega didn’t seem to understand that. It just knew it wasn’t being bred anymore, and it ached for a suitable Alpha to fill her cunt with his knot and her belly with his pups.

Perhaps König would even be gentle. He hadn’t forced himself on her, after all.

König seemed caught off guard by her answer, clearly having expected her to say no. But then with one graceful move, he tugged his shirt off, revealing his broad, thick chest. He was so wide, his strong muscles covered in a healthy layer of fat, and he was covered in tattoos all over his torso. He wasn’t particularly hairy, with most of it hidden by the black ink, but Lelia’s eyes caught on a trail of red hair on his belly that disappeared into his sleep pants, and her pupils dilated.

Suitable Alpha! Her omega practically screamed at her as a wave of unexpected, instinctual arousal nearly bowled her over. It almost felt like she was in preheat. Mate! Breed! Submit!

Lelia blushed. But when she saw König react to her scent, his eyes darkening and the already sizable bulge in his trousers—which she carefully avoided looking at at all times, and yet could always see because it was just that large—grew bigger, she whined and bared her throat to him, trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

“Schatz,” König said in his rough, accented voice. Not for the first time, she wondered what the German word meant. “You do not want this.”

She was unsure if he was trying to remind her or himself of that fact. Either way, it only made her tilt her head further. König took a massive step towards her, closing the distance between them—and then stopped. His eyes were trained on her neck, and though she couldn't see the expression on his face, it was obvious from his scent when his arousal abruptly faded.

She was confused as to why until he reached a hand out and brushed the calloused pad of his thumb against her scent gland. Lelia whimpered in pain as her numerous failed claiming marks suddenly stung sharply, and her face paled with shame. She couldn't believe she had forgotten, even just for a second.

König immediately pulled his hand back as if burned, and Lelia’s eyes grew hot with incoming tears.

“Go to your nest, omega,” he ordered, voice deeper than normal. Lelia didn’t have to be told twice. She dived under the desk, dragging the chair in front of it to block his view of her, and then pulled her blankets over her head, burying her face in the pillowcase she’d stolen from him to try and hide her tears. Her omega was howling inside her, despondent at being rejected once again. And the emptiness only grew worse.

There was the sound of fabric rustling, and then hurried footsteps. The slam of the door followed, and Lelia was alone. She was always alone.

An hour passed, and Lelia’s omega was inconsolable, only growing more distressed by her Alpha’s König's absence. Lelia tried to ignore it, but her instincts finally drove her out of her nest and into König’s bed. She instantly calmed as she was surrounded by his scent, but quickly grew restless at how exposed she was. She began to drag her pillows and blankets into the bed, remaking her nest inside it. She even retrieved one of König’s shirts from his closet, and one of the less fragile figurines from his desk. She clutched the toy soldier between her breasts, and curled up in her new nest. Only then did she stop crying.

***

When König returned to his quarters in the middle of the night, he was covered in sweat. He’d been punching a sandbag for the last five hours straight, trying to work out all his anger and lingering arousal.

He was only halfway successful.

He found himself imagining that the bag he was breaking the skin of his knuckles on was the Andrew Lelia had mentioned in her dreams earlier. He didn't know what the man looked like, didn’t know who he was or what he did for a living. All he knew was his name and that he had hurt Lelia terribly. As far as König was concerned, that made him the scum of the earth, and he would delight in ending his miserable existence.

Rolling his sore shoulders, König entered his room quietly, not wanting to wake Lelia. But his steps faltered when he noticed the pile of pillows and sheets atop his bed, and the familiar, tiny blanket lump in the middle of them. König breathed in deeply, and he frowned beneath his hood at the lingering scent of an omega in distress, and salty tears. Lots of them.

Closing the door quietly behind him, he approached the bed, carefully peeling back the blanket to reveal Lelia’s tearstained face, slack with sleep. Her lips were parted slightly, soft, breathy snores escaping her. He’d never heard her snore before. Though in all fairness, she never fell asleep before he did at night, and she was always up before him, too. This was the second time in as many weeks had actually caught her sleeping, and both times just today. It made his Alpha want to growl in satisfaction that she was finally beginning to trust him enough not to wake up the second she smelled him. And with the sight of her in his bed, there was no holding the deep, rumbling noise back.

Still asleep, Lelia bared her neck in response, showing off her scarred scent gland again. König strangled the wave of renewed anger that tried to rear up. It would wake her, and she would no doubt be terrified to see his massive form looming over her. He didn't need her screaming and making everyone on base think he was abusing her.

It did make him want to scent her, though. Properly. To brush his nose right against her scarred flesh and inhale deeply. To savor that heady mix of florals and sugar...

He would let her scent him in return, of course. He was desperate to feel her so close to him. To feel her sit in his lap again and press her nose just below his ear, pretty face buried in his tattooed neck. He wanted to ask her what he smelt like, to her. If she liked it.

He shook the thoughts from his head and stepped away, heading towards the toilet to take a shower. The sound would wake her up, and by the time he was done, both she and her nest would be back under his desk, he was sure.

And he was right. When he came back out, he could hear from her heartbeat that Lelia was awake, and the pile of blankets had been moved back to their regular place. She was sitting up in the middle of her nest, big doe eyes peering at him over the edge of her blanket. 

His gaze met hers for a long moment, but no words were exchanged, and he finally looked away, moving back to his bed. He paused when he noticed that his pillow was missing its case, and his most comfortable blanket—oversized, made specifically for a man as tall as him—was gone. He glanced back at Lelia, who was still watching him, and realized that his blanket was wrapped around her.

His Alpha let out a deep, pleased grumble at the sight, knowing she would be covered in his scent now. Lelia twitched, but her scent lightened a little bit, the bitter notes of her sadness fading slightly.

“I am sorry,” he sighed, sitting down on the floor, a metre away from her nest, ducking his head so he could see her. “For earlier. I did not mean to make you upset.”

“It was just instincts,” she answered after a long moment of silence. “That’s why I was sad when you... Not even a tainted omega like me handles rejection by their Al— by an Alpha well.”

“You are not tainted, Schatz,” König responded, swift and firm, heart skipping a beat at her slip up. Lelia looked away from him, and against his better judgment, he reached out, lightly grasping her chin and turning her back to him so she could see how serious he was. Her skin was soft and warm under his fingertips. “And I did not reject you. I stopped myself from taking advantage of you. You owe me nothing. I will not take any woman who does not truly want it.”

“But… you’re my— I mean, not mine, but I’m… your… omega, in a way,” Lelia answered haltingly. “I’ve been assigned to you to meet your needs, to keep you happy and content so you can be a more efficient soldier. That’s what the program director said, anyway…”

“This program is ridiculous,” König stated flatly. “I do not need an omega to be a good soldier.”

Seeing Lelia’s shoulders hunch as she curled in on herself, he rushed to continue.

“But that is not why I dislike it. It preys on vulnerable omegas like you. Omegas who have been hurt,” he said softly, his hand moving to cup her cheek gently. His palm practically covered half her face, but she leaned into his touch nonetheless, and the Alpha in him preened. “Omegas who do not think they can say no.”

“It always hurts more when I say no,” Lelia admitted, whisper-quiet. Her voice was resigned, accepting. This was simply a fact of her reality. It made König’s heart squeeze tightly in his chest, and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and never let go.

“I will not hurt you for saying no,” he told her, trying to impress the sincerity of his words into her brain. “I will not deprive you of comforts for not giving yourself to me. I will not mistreat you for any reason.”

A complicated look flashed through Lelia’s eyes in less than a second. He couldn’t name every emotion, but he did recognize a hint of skepticism—right alongside hope.

Little steps, he reminded himself.

König let his hand drop from her face, standing up, joints popping. He groaned quietly at the faint ache, a product of his size and his years of military service. He was young for a Colonel, but what he lacked in age he made up for in brutal efficiency in the field—a fact which had left him with plenty of lingering scars and pains.

“Try to sleep, Schatz,” he told her softly as she peered up at him with those big eyes of hers. He felt like she could see right through to someone’s soul with them. Like she could see his. “I am taking you out tomorrow. You have been stuck in this room for far too long.”

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90 , @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es

[autisticisopod]

eeee I tried my hand at drawing this Austrian tree again yay yippee

⬇️ Bonus doodle ehee

[whocaresabouttactical]

Others can't understand the connection

Drew this long time ago, trying to depict the subtle atmosphere between you and Konig

happy qixi festival

Music

TEMPOREX - Around You

[lichenes]

I would looove a part two to the flowershop owner x könig story! It's amazing, I got so immersed into the story :)

blacked out and wrote 600 words... i'm glad you liked it anon ;_;!! hope you like this one too :D!! enjoy :^ (pt. 2 to this) CW: kissing mentioned, pining, sfw :D wc: 601 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You haven’t seen the obscenely tall man in quite a while, you assumed the bouquet you sold him worked a little too well on the neighbour and he moved on from your dainty flower shop and well… from you. To your surprise - as if he felt you beckoning him in your mind - he appeared later that day. You were just attending a customer when he came through the glass door. “Thank you!” You called absentmindedly out after the person leaving the store. To be frank you were focused on something entirely different. 

König wasn’t sure what to say except for a polite greeting. Looking around the shop he found himself questioning his true intentions. Surely a person this quaint wasn’t interested in men of his nature. He felt your gaze on him. You were following his quick and precise movements with your eyes soaking up as much of him as you could. 

“Beautiful.” He said when he turned his head towards you. You felt your face heat up as he scrambled to finish his sentence. “The flowers! I mean the flowers. How- how do you keep them so uh… nice?” You chuckled slightly at his awkward comment and proceeded to explain everything from waking up at ungodly hours to get them fresh up until the tiring must of watering all of them. He kept nodding and put a hand on his covered chin. 

He asked some follow up questions after that, not realising he was leaning towards you. You didn’t mind one bit but when he was almost bent over with his elbows on the counter he snapped out of it with a quick apology and his hand landing on the back of his head with an anxious demeanour. “Sorry for the barrage I-” He tried to explain himself. “Hey no need to apologise big guy, you’re alright!! I’m glad you find this interesting.” 

And then an idea came to your mind. “Hey would you… um-” It was your turn to become overzealous. He nodded his head in a silent coax. “You’re retired right?” He confirmed with another nod. He wasn’t the diplomatic kind but you brought out the most anxious and self-aware parts of him. “Would you like to help out with the shop? I mean you don’t have to but I’d love some help and you seem like a strong guy and-” You were losing yourself in the question but he interrupted you quickly with a stern affirmation. “O-oh! That’s great!” 

“Just one more thing.” He tilted his head in slight confusion, curious at what you would say next. “What’s your name?” 

He- well, Alexander, was used to waking up in the early hours of the day, due to his long military service, so he was more than happy to help you pick out the flowers for the day. He offered to pick you up and it just became a routine for both of you to meet up at your apartment and drive to the flower market. 

“Mornin’.” You said half asleep getting into his car. “Good morning.” Alex said, looking you up and down. You noticed, god how you always noticed. “Like what you see?” You said only half-jokingly. His throat suddenly went dry when he fully took in what you were wearing. Even in sweatpants and an overly large coat you looked stunning. 

Suddenly an urge overwhelmed him. “I need to tell you something, mein schätz.”

The next few minutes were filled with words, words that couldn’t stay unspoken and fervent kisses, backed up by weeks of pining. 

And that day, your flower shop stayed closed. 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist