#konig call of duty

[motomamita]

dbf!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, age diferrence, risky sex!

"don't make a noise, you don't want your father to find us, do you?"

like every friday night, your father and his best friend met at your house to watch the game. at first you found könig's presence in your house unbearable, occupying your living room and drinking all the beer with your father. but your perception changed when one night he spied on you while you were bathing and you discovered it. perverted old man.

now you waited every friday so you could see him and, if he was too cautious, let him fuck you hidden from your father. just like now.

your back was arched and your hands were gripping the kitchen counter tightly while könig fucked hard. one of his hands covered your mouth, preventing you from making too much noise while the other sank his fingers into the delicate skin of your hips.

you could hear the sound of the television in the other room and how your father insulted the players in the game. your heart was beating rapidly at the possibility of being discovered, but könig didn't seem to care.

"what a dirty young girl. she lets herself be fucked by an old man, by her father's friend..."

könig murmured into your ear as he increased his thrusts. your pussy clenched around his cock, signaling the arrival of your orgasm but something happened.

könig quickly came out from inside you and pushed you to crouch on the ground. you were about to protest until you heard your father enter the kitchen.

"those idiots don't know how to play, i need another beer!"

luckily, the counter covered you and it didn't take long for könig to act as if nothing had happened, drinking his beer.

"the game is tough, very tough.."

könig murmured, drinking his beer. his other hand grabbed your hair and pulled you to his hard cock.

regardless of the fact that your father was there, you sucked him off while they were talking about the game.

[lostintransist]

Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

[konigsfavgirl]

Silently wondering about König being an actual freak. Not in a sexual or a super creepy way to scare you away, but kind of a nerd freak lol.

For example, you two are cuddling while watching a random show playing on the tv. You were enjoying the silence, it wasn't awkward or unsettling but comforting.

None of you has said a word for a while, then suddenly he turned his head towards you with a shy smile under his mask he neved took off.

After a moment of admiring you, he said the most random thing to say in a such intimate moment "Did you know, that night goggles don't work in complete darkness..."

[oaksgrove]

Unexpected Reaction

Pairing: König x Reader

Synopsis: When König notices you sitting in your car long after arriving home, he knows something is wrong. Your tear-streaked face and the envelope clutched in your hands confirm it.

Word Count: 1094 

Warnings: Emotional distress, mentions of pregnancy, implied anxiety, and self-doubt.

König had been humming to himself in the kitchen, the rhythmic sound of his knife chopping vegetables keeping him in an easy rhythm. The scent of rosemary and garlic filled the house, warm and comforting, but what truly brought him peace was the sight of your car pulling into the garage.

You were home.

He glanced at the clock, a little surprised at the time but happy nonetheless. He turned his attention back to dinner, confident you’d come through the door any second with one of your sweet greetings. He allowed himself a small smile as he wiped his hands on a dish towel and stirred the pot on the stove. You were usually quick to burst through the door with your cheerful energy, always bringing a little extra light into the house after your day. He waited, listening for the familiar sound of your keys and the click of the door opening.

But minutes passed, and the house remained quiet. Setting the knife down, he moved to the window again, wiping his hands on a towel. That’s when he saw you.

You were still sitting in the car, your hands gripping the steering wheel, your head bowed. He couldn’t see your face, but your posture told him everything—something was wrong.

After a moment, you slowly opened the car door, stepping out with an envelope clutched tightly in your hands. You hesitated, standing in the driveway as if the weight of the world was on your shoulders. His heart twisted when he saw your face—your nose red, your eyes puffy, as though you’d been crying for a long time.

König felt his throat tighten. His heart, so used to beating steady and sure in his chest, now raced with unease. You weren’t coming inside.

He moved to the door, hovering in the entryway as the sound of your keys jingled. Finally, the door opened, and you stepped in, your red nose and puffy eyes striking him like a blow.

“Schatz?” His voice was soft but thick with concern. His towering frame filled the doorway, his head tilting as he scanned your face. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You stood there, frozen, as if rooted in place. The envelope in your hands trembled slightly, but you said nothing. You couldn’t—your throat felt tight, your chest heavy.

“Liebling, talk to me,” König urged gently, his accent thickening with his worry. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, but the movement was so slight, it was barely there. Your lips trembled as you tried to form words, but you couldn’t seem to get them out. Instead, you extended the envelope toward him, your hands shaking.

He took it from you gently, his massive hands dwarfing the small piece of paper. His brows furrowed as he looked down at it. “What is this?” he asked, his voice cautious, uncertain.

You didn’t answer. You just stood there, your arms wrapping around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together, only watching him as the seconds stretched unbearably as he opened the envelope, carefully pulling out the papers inside. His eyes scanned the first line, and his breath hitched audibly.

And then, his hand stilled.

König’s body went still, his sharp blue eyes darting back to the top of the page. He read it again, as if needing confirmation, and when he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his expression was a mixture of shock and something you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re…” His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. “I’m pregnant,” you said, your voice cracking. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, the words rushing out in a desperate tumble. “I know we agreed to wait, and this wasn’t supposed to happen now, but I—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “Stop.”

The single word silenced you, and for a terrifying moment, you thought you’d made a terrible mistake. Hesitantly, you looked up, your blurry vision clearing just enough to see his face.

He was smiling.

It wasn’t a small smile—it was the kind of smile that lit up his entire face, his sharp features softening into something almost boyish. He laughed, a soft, disbelieving sound, and his hands moved to cup your face.

“König?” you whispered, confused by the way his expression had softened, his blue eyes bright with wonder.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, as if tasting the word for the first time. His hands moved to your face, cradling it gently as his thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “We’re having a baby?”

You nodded, your bottom lip trembling. “I’m so sorry, König. I didn’t know how to tell you—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Don’t. Please.”

“But we weren’t ready,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

“Ready?” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. “Schatz, how could anyone ever be ready for something like this?” He took a deep breath, his hands steady as they framed your face.

His words shattered the wall you’d been holding up for days. A sob escaped your lips, and you leaned into his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close, his broad hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I thought you’d be angry.” you admitted through your tears.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he kissed your forehead tenderly. “Oh, mein Schatz… How could I be angry? This is…” His voice faltered, his emotions catching up to him. 

You buried your face in his chest, letting out a shaky laugh through your tears.

His arms enveloped you, holding you close as your tears soaked into his shirt. But now they weren’t just tears of worry—they were tears of relief, of disbelief, of cautious joy.

“You’re sure you’re not mad?” you asked again, your voice small as you pressed your face into his chest.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said firmly, his lips pressing to the top of your head. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression so full of love it made your knees weak. “You’re everything to me. And now, there’s going to be more of you.” His thumbs brushing against your cheekbones.

“What do we do now?” you asked, your voice quiet but no longer trembling.

“Now,” König said, his voice full of conviction, “we celebrate. And tomorrow, we’ll start figuring out everything else. Together.”

taglist:

@honestlymassivetrash

[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.

[amagialp]

COD Headcanons: Quiet Moments with them

As always MINORS DNI, also requests open, please go ahead and request im bored n running out of ideas lol:p

mix of soft/sfw/nsfw headcanons

!!warning grammarly used, might detectd spelling mistakes pls lmk!!

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Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost hates being called soft, but when you two are alone, he’s a different man. He’ll tuck you into his chest after a long mission, running his gloved hand through your hair in silence. It’s his way of grounding himself and you.

He won’t admit it, but he loves the way you look in his hoodie. Seeing you wrapped up in his scent makes his chest tighten in the best way.

His kisses are slow and deliberate, savoring every second like it might be his last. But if you push his buttons, he’ll pin you against a wall, letting his darker side take over.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is the type to pull you into the rain just to dance. "C'mon, love! Don’t be shy," he’d laugh, spinning you around like it’s the best day of his life.

He’s surprisingly touchy, always finding excuses to sling an arm around you or pull you close by your waist.

In private, he’s a menace. He’ll whisper the filthiest things in your ear, his accent making every word even more sinful. But it’s all balanced with his playful smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz has a subtle but sweet protective streak. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’ll slide closer, resting his hand on your back as a silent warning.

He’s the king of subtle flirtation, quick winks, passing touches, and compliments disguised as jokes that leave you flustered long after he’s gone.

He loves late night talks with you, his voice soft and low as he shares stories from his past. If you fall asleep on him, he’ll carefully wrap you in a blanket and stay awake just to make sure you’re comfortable.

Captain John Price

Price is the dad friend of the group, but with you, he’s all warmth and charm. He’ll make you tea after a mission, his quiet way of showing he cares.

He’s surprisingly domestic. You’ve walked in on him cooking more than once, his sleeves rolled up and a soft hum in his throat. “You’re late, love. Dinner’s almost ready.”

In bed, he’s steady and controlled, every touch intentional. But he loves hearing you unravel, his name on your lips like a prayer.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro is a flirt, through and through. He’ll call you mi vida or mi amor without hesitation, his deep voice dripping with affection.

He loves teasing you in public, light touches on your arm, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, and flashing that dangerous smile when he sees you blush.

Behind closed doors, he’s both fiery and gentle, always making sure you feel worshipped. He’ll press kisses to your skin like he’s memorizing you.

König

König is shy in public, but with you, he’s a giant teddy bear. He loves holding you, his massive hands covering almost your entire back as he pulls you into him.

He’ll blush furiously if you compliment him, stammering out a flustered, “Danke.” But he won’t stop smiling for hours afterward.

When he’s in the mood, he gets possessive. He’ll lift you off the ground with ease, his voice dropping an octave as he whispers, “You’re all mine.”

Phillip Graves

Graves is smooth and confident, the type to open doors for you and pull out your chair like a gentleman. But don’t be fooled... he’s got a cocky streak a mile wide.

He’ll call you “darlin’” in that slow, Southern drawl, watching the way it makes you shiver. He knows exactly how to get under your skin.

In private, he’s all about control. He loves seeing you surrender to him, his lips trailing over your skin as he murmurs, “Good girl.”

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requests open for anything! (legal)

[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

[ayothepizzahere4]

To all the COD writers, please make platonic fanfics/hcs,,, like headcannons about YN/reader being practically adopted by the TF-141 or KorTac because they were abandoned 🙏🏽 @ me...

[zghost333]

Mini Konig! 😍

[cheeseatlantic]

CoD characters as animals!

ghost, soap, gaz, price, alejandro, rudy, valeria, graves, makarov, nikto, horangi, konig, keegan, hesh, logan, kick, merrick and ajax

ghost

he’d be a black panther, cause of the whole mysterious ooga booga vibe if yk what i mean… yuh. idk hes just very black panthery ish!!!

soap

this bitch would be a hyrax with the way he is SCREAMING in everyones ears, like slap a mohawk on a hyrax and thats literally soapy boy…

gaz

leopard. because glamour blonde glamour y brunette!! and i mean we all know this diva, in his button up on the field, he is SERVING his cuntry!! (pun intended)

price

quokka, he has the smile. and the face of a fucking quokka, everytime i see one i wanna punch it in the face because its like stealing price’s identity. I LOVE IT LMAOOOO

alejandro

beluga whale, why? THE FUCKING FOREHEAD OKAY I DONT MAKE THE RULES BUT ITS THE FOREHEAD. IT TAKES UP ALL THE SPACE ON HIS FUCKING HEAD

rudy

an otter!! because they look so stinking cute but then they open their mouths and their even more stinking cute. need i say more??

valeria

doberman!! shes so doberman energy, like you can see her and be like yeah thats a doberman okay? like do we get the vision?? like she dont play around and we know that!! love her

graves

bald fucking eagle. AMERICA CAW CAWWWWW

makarov

a dinosaur because i want him extinct #bringbackthesoapbar but all jokes aside i see him as like a bat, hard to catch and scary… Grahhhahshrghahahs

nikto

a bear!! looks scary but most likely is an absolute sweetheart

horangi

secretary bird with all the cunt he serves on the field like yass queen slay your enemies!

konig

an elephant, they’ve been known to be scared of bees and because he has social anxiety he probably sees everyone as bees that would sting him!! also cause he is fucking giant.

keegan

wolf cause hes stealthy loyal and protective!! matches the description perfectly. also quiet observer. heh.

hesh

german shepherd, he gives off the energy okay i cant explain it

logan

cougar! silent but deadly, never turn your back on him

kick

kangaroo, he seems all over the place and kicky… hehahahehahahhehehaa

merrick

a lion! i see lions as a symbol of teamwork and leadership hence the prides and such

ajax

rhino… he seems like the heavy hitter of the team idk man

[mossygirl333]

Pudding and Martini with Konig

AN: Ofc Anon!

Bakery Order: Pudding - “Well, well, well, look at what we have here.” + Martini - Mafia AU

Bosses daughter!reader x rival!mafia!Konig

Tw/Cw: autistic!Konig, bold!reader, secret relationship, unprotected p in v, voyeurism, slight gun play

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!

Your father.

It was a touchy subject when spoken about intimately. But easy to leverage, his name spat out as a curse. It was easy to get what you wanted when being the daughter of a well known Mafia boss. A crime family that practically ruled the streets of Austria.

Well, not completely.

Konig.

His family also struck fear into the hearts of anyone who heard the whispers. And Konig, their boss's son was the meanest one. Brutal in his work, meaty hands the size of dinner plates, cold blue eyes sharp with rage, tall and looming. That was how they described him.

He was cocky. A true bastard to anyone that passed by, he liked to leverage his power as much as you did. You two weren't much different.

Maybe you could sympathize with him. The blood on his hands, the rage he held in his heart. It felt good to have someone who would understand.

And those eyes, those sapphire hued eyes that twitched and ached with agony and self-loathing. Oh how they softened when they saw you.

It wasn't like it was a secret relationship, well it was. Running off onto abandoned places, hiding away in unknown bars and kissing behind doors. He made you laugh, made you smile.

You didn't understand why the world could hate him when it was so easy for you to love him.

But for the sake of all else you held dear, it must be behind closed doors.

-

Your heels clicked against the street lined cobblestone, hips swaying gently. The cold Austrian breeze bit at your nose, making you hug your fur coat a bit closer.

The noise of the nightclub grew louder, a firm knock ringing against the door. It slid open, the buzz of music and drunk patrons rang in your ear like an annoying fly.

"You got a name kleines Mädchen?" (little girl). The bouncer tilted his head, most likely apart of Konigs family, light ruddy brown hair and blue eyes, stereotypical for them.

"My name is 🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻...Daughter of Boss 🏻🏻🏻🏻🏻." You snobbishly say, crossing your arms. "Can I come in? I need to speak to the son."

He pauses for a moment, before taking you inside. You walked behind him, a sour expression on your face (perfected to hide the butterflies starting to well up in your belly). It wasn't the first time you had come to see him.

You walked up the stairs, finally stopping at his office door. Rapping 4 times (the secret code you two made up) and stepping back to wait. A heavy sound, followed by footsteps were all you heard until he opened the door. His mask was on, eyes meeting yours. You could almost imagine the smile his shirt hid.

"Come in." His voice was rough, his brother was standing too close for him to act soft (yet). "Go away Kilgore." He shooed the younger man away and tugged you inside.

The door clicked, closing behind you as his warm hand rested on your lower back. Stabilizing you as you slipped off your heels. "kleine Maus, It's cold out. Why wear such skimpy clothes?" He tilts his head, wide eyes following you as you collapse onto his couch.

"For you." You mumble, meeting his gaze and pulling up your dress a little bit to show your thighs, playfully circling the gun strapped to it.

He blushes a little, shifting timidly. "You look nice.." He sits next to you, easily hoisting you up into his lap. "But the gun?"

You giggle, lifting up his mask to whisper in his ear. "Thought you'd like it. Loaded too...The danger, the way my heart would race-" Your breathing hitches a little, tracing your nails across his twitching abs. His hands slowly settle onto your hips, letting you take off his face covering. Thick auburn hair was tied back low, wide eyes full of excitement. "kleine Maus.."

"Hm?" You tilt your head, tapping your chin. "Are you excited baby-" He pushes you down onto the couch, ripping the gun from your holster and resting it on your pulse.

"Don't tease me..." He mumbles, gazing at your flushed face. Gently trace the cool metal across your collarbone, thumb sliding off the safety. "When I could just kill you."

you laugh, baring your neck to him and rubbing his massive biceps. "Yeah..I know. That's the fun of it."

Your lips meet his and he tosses the gun aside, burying his fingers into your hair. Slipping his tongue into your mouth as he paws at your hips, mumbling a little.

You swing your legs up, wrapping around his waist and pinning him against you. A laugh leaving your lips as he hitches, shifting a little to pull down your panties - now slick with arousal.

He unbuckles his belt awkwardly, one hand still buried in your lockers. Wriggling a little until his cock sprang out and slapped against your thigh. "I love you." He mumbles, pressing his lips to your forehead as his tip finds its way into your entrance.

You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to feel.

Konig was a big man in all aspects. Which made having sex with him a little difficult. He huffed a little, caging you in as he sunk in a few inches, throbbing and pulsating against your walls.

His lips trail to your temple, whimpering a little when you clench around him. Sucking him in a bit deeper. "You feel so good kleine Maus...my Schatz..."

he finally bottoms out, panting into your neck as he slowly thrusts into you. Growing more and more rough, eyes growing blurry with tears of pleasure. “S-so much…”

Your fingernails clench into his shoulders, feeling the knotted tense muscles there, holding as he slams his hips into yours. Thick heavy thighs dragging against your ass.

His tip twitches, veins throbbing inside of your pulsating cunt. Feeling his skin welt up because of your nails.

“m’gonna cum…” you whine, the slick squelching noises growing louder and louder until the coil in your belly snaps.

thick ropes of cum and frothy arousal mix up between the two of you, his hips stuttering to a stop as he lays there against you, shaky and teary eyed. “…i can’t keep this a secret anymore.”

[koeni9in]

Cozy sunday, bloody König <3

[konigsfavgirl]

i was wondering how könig would act around you after catching unexpected feelings for you, at first you two were just teammates, slowly becoming friends and now he sees you more than just a friend...

könig is that type to...

Blush Under His Mask Constantly: Even though his tough guy appearance, every time you speak to him or even glance in his direction, his cheeks turn light pink beneath his mask. His voice gets softer, and he fumbles over his words, trying to sound composed but failing adorably. When he realized how terrible he sounds, the urge to escape that room was taking over him. He mumbled a quiet "Excuse me..." and almost ran out.

Go Out of His Way to Be Helpful: König would notice the smallest things you might need help with, like carrying something heavy or reaching for a high shelf. He’d always offer before you even ask, his nervous, “Do you need help?” melting your heart. Sometimes you could even catch him fidgeting with the bottom edge of his shirt.

Stare Without Realizing It: König would get lost in thought while looking at you, only snapping out of it when you catch him. He’d instantly avert his eyes, pretending to focus on something else. His escape point was always the ceiling. He stared at it, like it was something worth to enter a museum.

Mumble Compliments in German: He’d let little things slip, like calling you “schön” (beautiful) or “süß” (cute) under his breath, thinking you wouldn’t hear. If you asked him what he said, he’d shake his head furiously and change the subject.

Stand a Little Too Close Without Realizing It: König doesn’t know how to gauge his own size or presence, so he’d end up standing closer to you than necessary. When he notices, he’d step back awkwardly and mutter an apology. His heart was aching for affection from your side, so every little touch could make him see stars.

Be Quietly Competitive Around You: If you were playing games or doing something together, he’d try just a little too hard to impress you. He wouldn’t brag but would be adorably proud if he won. He might glance in your way, just to check if you saw his perfect victory.

Write Notes He Never Sends: König would write you sweet little notes or letters when he’s alone, imagining giving them to you. However, his nerves would always win, and he’d hide them in a drawer, too shy to let you see how he feels. He promised himself to stop writing those, but he just couldn't help himself. He thought you deserve much more than just words written on the paper.

Adjust His Mask Around You: König would nervously tug at his mask whenever you’re close, worried about how he looks or if it’s sitting crooked. It’s his way of trying to seem presentable, even if he’s already perfect to you. He's always been insecure about himself and this little crush made them even worse.

Keep Souvenirs of Shared Moments: If you gave him anything—a note, a shared photo, or even a napkin from a café—you’d better believe he’s keeping it. He’d cherish these little tokens, glancing at them whenever he misses you. He would even go as far to write down the date and keep those in a small pretty box, hidden from everyone's eyes. You've given that to him, so why should other people admire those as well.

꒰my first writing post so far, tried my best but i promise i will improve soon :>꒱

[isabel-ur]

He looks like a wet puppy but I adore him still 😔☝️