#kortac

[cryforabel]

könig is one of those people to bottle up his emotions until it spills everywhere.

being bullied for years left him scared to show any signs of weakness , choosing to blow up at people on the battlefield. he never wanted anyone to ever think he was weak , so when horangi pulled him aside after a mission he completely shut him out. he didn’t need pity… horangi had always reminded him his door was open if he changed his mind.

könig told himself he would never go, told himself he didn’t need anyone, told himself he would be fine… but somehow his legs carried him right to horangi’s barracks. the korean didn’t say anything when he opened the door to see königs teary eyes , he just embraced the man in a hug.

maybe it was okay to let people know how you felt.

[msriri030]

Saving by a Hare:

Mobster! König x Doctor! Reader

tag: Stranger to lover, afab! female but trying most to gn idk

You walked back to your small clinic after making a house call to an elderly couple. The streets were serene, wrapped in a pristine blanket of fresh winter snow. A soft breeze carried the faint scent of pine and cinnamon from a nearby café, blending with the crisp chill of the air. Yet, your mind was miles away.

The couple’s gratitude lingered in your thoughts, their warm smiles and kind words a gentle reminder of why you had chosen this path. In a world where you often faced indifference—or worse, outright hostility—moments like those made it all feel worth it. Despite the challenges, there was purpose in what you did, and that was enough to keep you going.

As you walked, Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a small cat, sleek and gray, slipping out from the shadows of an alleyway. It meows softly before weaving between your legs, its tail flicking playfully. You crouched, extending a hand with a soft smile, but the cat darted away, disappearing into the dark alley.

“Hey, wait!” you called instinctively, curiosity tugging at you.

The alley was silent, the air colder here in the absence of light. Your breath puffed visibly in front of you as you trailed the cat’s paw prints in the snow. But something unusual caught your eye—a patch of crimson staining the pristine white.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Red snow. The metallic tang of iron wafted faintly in the air. Blood.

The doctor in you overrode every other instinct. You bolted toward the source, boots crunching against the snow as your mind raced. Someone was hurt. Someone needed help.

As you turned the corner, you saw it—a large male figure slumped against the wall, motionless. Blood pooled beneath them, painting the snow in a macabre contrast of red and white.

Your heart pounded, but your hands steadied as you dropped to your knees beside them. "Hey! Can you hear me?" you called, already reaching for their pulse.

As a doctor, you were bound by one unshakable rule: to save a life, no matter the circumstances. And right now, you were prepared to do just that.

The pulse was slow but steady—a small relief that eased the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. You let out a soft sigh, your breath visible in the icy air. Your hands moved with practiced precision as you assessed the situation.

The man’s face was partially obscured by a makeshift balaclava, one crudely fashioned from a torn shirt. It clung to his skin, damp with sweat and streaked with traces of blood. You instinctively reached to remove it, thinking it might help him breathe more easily.

But as your fingers brushed the fabric, a sudden movement stopped you in your tracks.

His hand, rough and trembling, shot up and grabbed your wrist with surprising strength for someone in his condition. His grip wasn’t crushing, but it was firm enough to communicate a clear message: don’t.

His head tilted slightly, icy blue eyes locking onto yours with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver racing down your spine. Despite his battered state, his voice emerged steady, edged with a cold sharpness that only deepened his aura of danger.  

“What do you think you’re doing, kleiner weißer Hase?” he asked, the German words slipping out in a tone as cutting as the accent behind them.  

You straightened under his scrutiny, meeting his gaze despite the unease clawing at your chest. “I–I mean no harm,” you replied calmly, refusing to waver. “I’m a doctor. I was trying to remove this to help you breathe. Do you know where you’re bleeding from?”  

For a moment, his eyes narrowed, and you thought he might ignore you altogether. His grip on your wrist tightened briefly, but then, slowly, it loosened. His gaze shifted, the icy edge softening, though his expression remained distant—haunted, almost lifeless.  

“Doctor…” he muttered, his voice low and strained, as if the word carried more weight than it should. “A little Hase like you should leave. You don’t want to get tangled up with someone like me. Men like me only have one ending. The kind reserved for mobsters. So go. Pretend you never saw me.”  

His words hung in the frosty air, heavy with bitterness and self-loathing. Your jaw tightened, the weight of his resignation settling over you, but you weren’t one to back down.  

“I will not,” you said firmly, your tone unwavering as you met his distant stare. “I am a doctor, and you are not a dead man yet. So I’ll ask you again—do you know where you’re bleeding from?”  

Something shifted in his expression. His eyes widened just slightly, caught off guard by your defiance. A bitter smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, fleeting but noticeable a glam of life in his eyes.  

“Stubborn little Hase, aren’t you?” he murmured, the faintest trace of amusement cutting through his somber tone before his features darkened again. “Fine. Lower left side. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  

You nodded briskly, already moving to assess the wound. His words lingered, though, like a shadow curling in the corners of your mind. Whatever weight he carried, it was more than just physical—burdens you couldn’t begin to imagine.  

Carefully, you lifted his shirt, exposing the bullet wound oozing dark, viscous blood. Without hesitation, you reached for the tools you’d gathered: a pair of tweezers, a needle, thread, and a bottle of alcohol. The chaos surrounding you melted into insignificance as you focused, your hands steady despite the urgency clawing at your nerves.  

“Okay, hold still—”  

“König,” he interrupted, his voice low and gravelly as he offered his name. His icy blue eyes never left yours, watching you intently, as if assessing whether you were friend or foe.  

“Okay, Hold still, König” you instructed, reaching into your bag for your tools.

He grunted, his lips quivering faintly. “I’ve been still this entire time.”

Suppressing a smile, you worked quickly, sterilizing your tweezers and cleaning the area around the wound. “This might sting,” you warned.

He didn’t flinch, his jaw tight as you began extracting the bullet. His muscles tensed under your touch, and a low groan escaped his throat, but he didn’t move an inch. His control was unnervingly precise, a testament to the kind of man he was.

You gripped the tweezers and leaned in, the edges of your vision narrowing as your focus honed in on the task. With painstaking care, you maneuvered the tweezers to locate the bullet. König’s muscles tensed under your touch, his jaw clenching, but he stayed perfectly still, his control unnervingly precise.  

As the metal object came into view, lodged deep within the torn flesh, you adjusted your grip and pulled. Blood welled around the wound, and König let out a low, guttural groan, though his body didn’t move an inch.  

“It’s almost out,” you murmured, more for your own reassurance than his. With one final tug, the bullet slipped free, clinking faintly as you dropped it onto the snowy ground beside you.  

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Glancing up, you saw König watching you, his expression unreadable, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps relief, perhaps trust.  

“Now the hard part’s done,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. You grabbed the needle and thread, preparing to stitch the wound. “Just a little more, and you’ll be good as new. Well, almost.”  

König let out a dry chuckle, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Good as new, Hase? I think that ship sailed long ago.”

“I don’t,” you replied, a gentle but firm conviction in your tone. “I believe you’d be lovely company to have around.”

Your words caught him off guard, and his lips quirked into a faint, almost disbelieving smile. He let out a low chuckle, this one lighter, more genuine than before. You couldn’t help but smile back, though your focus quickly returned to the task at hand.

With careful precision, you finished stitching the wound, your hands steady as you tied off the last thread. Grabbing a clean cloth, you cleaned the area around the stitches and reached for the bandages.

As you wrapped them around his waist, your fingers brushed against his skin, warm and solid beneath your touch. Despite the lack of defined abs, his build was undeniably strong, and you couldn’t help the slight blush that crept up your cheeks.

König noticed immediately. His icy blue eyes studied you with quiet curiosity before he asked, his tone calm but with a hint of amusement, “Are you okay, Hase? Your face is red.”

Your head shot up, and you stammered, “I’m okay! I’m fine!” You quickly glanced away, fumbling for an excuse. “It’s just… the cold, that’s all.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press the matter.

“We should call an ambulance,” you said, reaching for your phone. “You need proper medical care—”

Before you could dial, König’s hand shot out, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist. His grip was steady, his calloused palm warm against your skin.

“No, Hase,” he said softly, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. His icy blue eyes bore into yours, more serious than before. “But… Can I call someone? Just for a moment. With your phone.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the intensity in his gaze left no room for argument. Slowly, you nodded, handing him your phone.

As he dialed, you shifted awkwardly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You tried not to listen, but his deep voice made it impossible to tune out. After a few rings, a man’s voice answered, sharp and suspicious.

“Hello? Who is this?”

König exhaled through his nose, the faintest edge of irritation in his voice as he responded, “ Horangi. It’s König.”

A brief pause followed, the silence thick with tension. Then Horangi’s voice returned, his tone a mix of disbelief and reprimand. “König, what the hell happened?”

“I got shot,” König admitted, his voice lower now, almost begrudging.

“You what? Damn it, König. Where are you?”

“I’ll send my location,” König muttered, groaning lightly as if he were already bracing for the lecture he knew was coming. He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to the call.

“Can you pick me up?”

Horangi sighed audibly on the other end, muttering something under his breath in Korean before replying, “Fine. But you owe me for this. Stay where you are. I will be there in a few minutes.”

König ended the call and handed your phone back to you. “Thank you, Hase,” he said quietly, his tone softer now.

You studied him for a moment, unsure what to say. He seemed more tired than before, the weight of whatever world he lived in pressing heavily on his broad shoulders.

“You have a friend coming?” you asked gently, trying to gauge his condition.

He gave a small nod. “Yes. He’ll be here soon.”

Silence stretched between you, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional gust of wind that rustled through the alley. Your eyes lingered on König, studying his face—the sharp edges softened by exhaustion, the weight of something unspoken behind his icy blue gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he led, what kind of dangers waited for him beyond the walls of this quiet alley.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gravelly, pulling your attention back to him. “It’s cold. You should go home, Hase.”

You straightened slightly, meeting his tired gaze with quiet determination. “No. I need to make sure you get picked up safely.”

A deep, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest, surprising you. It wasn’t bitter like before, but rich, almost warm. “You’re protecting me. That’s ironic,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you puffed them in mock frustration, gently swatting his uninjured arm. “It’s my job,” you retorted, voice firm despite the blush creeping up your neck. “Would you do the same if you were in my shoes?”

König’s smirk lingered, but his expression softened as his gaze rested on you. For a moment, he didn’t reply, his icy blue eyes searching yours, as though your question had struck deeper than you’d meant it to. Slowly, his hand lifted, calloused fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

The gesture left you momentarily breathless, and silence stretched between you once more, heavy but not uncomfortable. You both sat there, the world around you fading into the background, neither of you daring to break the quiet.

Then, suddenly, the sharp screech of car tires shattered the stillness, yanking you back to reality.

Before you could react, König’s instincts took over. His arms shot out, pulling you close against his chest in a swift, protective motion. His body tensed, shielding you from whatever unknown danger might be approaching.

“Stay down,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

The tension broke only when a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. Horangi appeared, sprinting toward you both with a practiced urgency, his sharp eyes narrowing as they darted between you and König.

Without missing a beat, Horangi waved over two more figures trailing close behind him. They moved with the same calculated precision, their presence commanding despite the chaos lingering in the air. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a sharp jawline and dark eyes—Oni, you guessed from the way he carried himself with silent authority. The other, slightly shorter but no less imposing, had a cocky smirk that seemed permanently etched on his face—Hutch.

“You’re reckless, König,” Horangi muttered, crouching beside him while sparing you a brief glance. “Is this what you call lying low, boss?” His voice carried an edge of exasperation, though there was an unmistakable undercurrent of concern.

König didn’t answer immediately. He shifted slightly, loosening his protective hold on you but not letting you go entirely, as though reluctant to leave you vulnerable. “I didn’t plan for this,” König grumbled, his voice gruff but steady.

Oni stepped forward, his piercing gaze briefly flicking over König’s wound before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak, his silence unnerving yet oddly respectful. Hutch, on the other hand, let out a low whistle, his eyes darting between you and König with an amused grin.

“Well, well,” Hutch drawled, his tone teasing. “Didn’t know you had a personal medic, König. Gotta say, she’s a bit of an upgrade from the usual lot we deal with.”

Your cheeks flushed at the comment, but König shot him a warning look that shut him up immediately.

“Enough,” Horangi snapped, his tone sharp as he straightened. “Let’s get him out of here before we draw more attention.”

After Hutch and Oni helped König into the car, he leaned back against the seat, exhaustion pulling at his features. You stood by the door, briefing Horangi on König’s condition—quickly summarizing the severity of the wound, the care you’d provided, and his current state. Your voice was steady, your professionalism cutting through the tension like a beacon of calm.

What you didn’t notice, however, was König watching you intently through the tinted window. His icy blue eyes had softened, their usual sharpness dulled by something almost foreign: quiet admiration. He listened to the cadence of your voice, his gaze lingering on your focused expression. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself a moment of calm. There was something about the way you carried yourself—gentle but unwavering—that disarmed him more thoroughly than any weapon ever had.

As you finished and dismissed yourself, König’s eyes followed you. The faint breeze caught your white lab coat as you walked briskly toward your clinic, the fabric fluttering like wings in the wind. The image was seared into his mind, reforging the thought he’d had before—kleiner weißer Hase.

When you disappeared into the crowd, König’s lips twitched into a rare, almost wistful smile. For a moment, his icy exterior melted, replaced by something warmer, something yearning. A quiet vow slipped past his lips, too low for anyone to catch but himself.

“The hunt is on, Hase.”

Oni and Hutch exchanged a glance from the front seat, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and silent amusement. Horangi, leaning against the car, raised an eyebrow at König but said nothing. The three of them, seasoned in the ways of König’s unpredictability, decided it was best to leave him to his thoughts—for now.

------------------

part 2

kleiner weißer Hase: litte white bunny

Hase: bunny

[laduenadelswing]

I was wandering what would happen if 141 and KORTAC actually needed to work together and the reader gets caught in the crossfire

Chapter 1

The grimy, war-torn streets of an unnamed city were a stark contrast to the pristine training grounds the operators were used to. The 141 unit, a force renowned for their lethal efficiency, found themselves in an uneasy alliance with the Kortac unit, a military force known for their brutal tactics and unwavering loyalty.

Price, the grizzled veteran, eyed König, the stoic Austrian - German leader, with a mix of respect and caution. "We'll work together, but on our terms," Price stated in a tone which was so polite, it could kill people.

König, unfazed, responded, "We share a common goal. Eliminate the threat." His tone was cold, his eyes piercing, the accent dripping.

The two leaders, despite their differences, knew they had no choice but to cooperate. The enemy was a formidable foe, a shadowy organization with global reach and deadly intent.

Meanwhile, Soap and Ghost were paired with Roze and Horangi, a formidable duo in their own right. "Let's hope this goes smoothly," Soap muttered, his Scottish brogue thick. Roze, ever the enigma, simply nodded.

Horangi, a master of stealth, moved silently through the city's labyrinthine streets, his senses heightened. He didn’t care about the obvious tension between the unity’s as long as he got paid. "We must be cautious," he warned. "The enemy is everywhere."

In another part of the city, Roach, Hutch, and Fender were working with Calisto and Oni. "Let's get this over with," Roach grumbled, eager to get into the fight. Calisto, a skilled brawler, grinned. "I'm ready."

As the sun began to set, the 141 and Kortac units prepared for their assault. The city was about to become a battlefield, and the fate of the world hung in the balance.

The tension in the air was palpable as the 141 and Kortac units returned to their base. The initial victory had been hard-fought, but the enemy was far from defeated. The aftermath of the battle, however, was marked by an unexpected confrontation. As soon as they returned to the base Ghost and König almost started a fistfight.

Now, the simmering tension boiled over.

"Your reckless disregard for strategy almost cost us the mission!" König accused, his voice sharp.

Ghost, his eyes narrowed, retorted, "Your rigid adherence to the plan nearly got us killed, mate !"

The two men squared off, their fists clenched. Soap, ever the peacemaker, stepped between them. "Ghost, you wouldn't hit a Colonel, would you?" he pleaded.

Ghost paused, taken aback. "He's a bloody Colonel?" Ghost asked, his surprise evident. Even the skull mask couldn’t hide his disbelief.

The tension between Ghost and König hung heavy in the air, a silent threat of further conflict. Just as the two were about to exchange another heated word, a new voice cut through the tension.

A young, energetic figure stepped into the room. It was you, the Codename was Ace.

Ace was the newest member of the unit, exuded a confidence that belied their youth. You didn’t match the vibe of neither 141 nor KORTAC. You weren’t wearing military close, your open hair cascaded over your shoulders, you had a phone in your soft hands and a soft smile on your red lips. Black sunglasses perfected her look. Ace looked like she came out of a holiday resort and not a military mission.

"Sorry for letting you guys hang on the battlefield," You announced, a mischievous glint in your eye. "But I got the information we need. König, ich glaube, dass es für unsere Mission wichtig sein könnte. König I beliefe this could be important for our mission.“

König's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. His rigid posture relaxed slightly as he turned his attention to the newcomer. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something akin to fondness.

Ghost, however, was quick to notice. A spark of interest ignited in his eyes as he observed the interaction between König and Ace. It was a fleeting moment, a glimpse into a side of König that few others had seen.

As Ace continued to brief the team, Ghost couldn't help but wonder about the newcomer. Who were they? What was their connection to König? And why did the stoic German seem so different around them? Was it only because she spoke the same language?

Comments and criticism are appreciated 🫶♥️

[random0person123]

W.I.P :D!!!

(Price and soap sketch look creepy silly 😭)

[rayspalette]

i love konig sm, i draw him 24/7

LOOK AT HIM AAA

[simonriley09]

Praise - Konig [Kinktober Day 23]

TW: NSFW, Fem! Reader, Sex, Praise, MDNI.

You feel König slowly insert his huge, fat cock into you, Praising at how well you take him. "So gut maus... So verdammt gut." You cant help but squeeze around the tip, making him groan. "Ja.. keep squeezing me like that and i might have to cum inside Liebling."

He slides half his dick in making you squeeze tighter, He thinks you might push him out with how tightly you're squeezing, Maus. Only half his cock is inside you but it already feels like it's hitting the back of your throat, it makes you wanna scream but the only thing that comes out is a breathy whine. König grins at your whine, slipping an inch deeper which makes you suck in a sharp breath and claw at his shoulder blades, Toes curling from the pressure. He finally bottoms out with a low groan, looking down at your bulging belly. "Such a good girl... taking me so well." "Gonna be so good for me, right maus? Gonna be a good girl?" He ends his words with a sharp thrust against your cervix, causing you to cry out, a loud moan escaping your lips. "So loud.. make more noise for me i love it." His hips rolled into yours, stuffing his fat dick into your cunny perfectly. Molding you wet, velvety walls into the shape of his dick. Your nails dug deeper into his back as he started thrusting faster, One of his hands suddenly pushing down on the bulge on your belly until you squirt all over him. Causing the bedsheets and his pubes to be covered in your slick. "Gut.... sehr gut, maus." He continues thrusting through your orgasm before pulling out and cumming all over your belly with a groan.

[lxvvie]

Y'all know that whole trend that was going around social media with women calling their significant other by their full name? Yeah, that one. Yet another conversation was had, this time it was about the reactions your favorite babygurls would have if you called them by their full government name because of reasons. Maybe.

Capt. John Price - He's, uh, startled but not enough to drop his cigar this time. Does take a puff of it, though, before addressing you like it's the calm before the storm. Isn't too fazed because he heard it enough from his own mom growing up and he figures he's suave and diplomatic enough to placate you.

Gaz - Pointedly ignores you while giving you side glances here and there which is a major indicator that he's gotten into some shit. Probably. More than likely. Yeah... it was Soap's fault.

Alex Keller - Actually did get into some shit. Does not answer the call of duty.

Soap - You hear 'ah, shit', heavy footsteps, probably a crash, and Soap's peeking his head out from the other room. Has a deer-in-headlights look about him. It was Gaz's fault, goddamnit. He's so adorable. It's enough to make you giggle.

Ghost - You get a grunt. And then it hits him. He stops doing whatever it is he's doing. Fuck, he knows that tone. Simon turns to look at you and he stares into your soul or something like that. What in the hell kind of made-up middle name is that? You spend the better part of a good minute staring each other down before you're all, "I love you ♥️," and Ghost groans and rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever it was he was doing. But not before he grunts out a "Love ya, too." in return.

Alejandro - This is one of the few things that'll actually faze the man. Will damn near break his neck turning to face you to see what's wrong and his eyes will be wide. Oh, the last time he heard his full name called like that was from his beloved grandmother and he'd gotten into some shit then, okay?

Rudy - Ducks his head. Doesn't show his face; he can't bear the sternness of your voice, your gaze. It wasn't him this time, he swears; it remains, though, the way you say his name, an echo in his mind: Ro-DOL-fo. Why'd you have the emphasize THAT part of his name, huh?

König - König.exe stops working. Actually does break something trying to get to you. His eyes are fucking saucers, okay? Oh shit, what did he do this time, Schatz? Are you getting him back after that one time he snuck up on you to surprise you and you dropped dinner? Did you find out about the time he accidentally messed up the laundry and the white clothes came out pink? WHAT DOES HE HAVE TO DO FIX THIS?! Oh, you... just needed him to grab something off the top shelf for you.

Horangi - Also did some shit. Is unapologetic about it. Hits you with a nonchalant, "Yeah?"

Graves - STAYS IN SOME SHIT, OKAY? Saunters in like the smug bastard he is. Smirks and winks at you. "Haven't heard that name in a while, darlin'. What's your fancy?"

Valeria - Pulls a Uno Reverse and calls you by your full government name. Wait―

[konigsluv]

MDNI! DARK THEMES!!

Neighbor!König x Horny!Reader

Neighbor!König jerks off with his ear pressed against the wall, listening to his horny neighbor at it again...

contains: m!masturbation, lewd thoughts

Oh, you dirty little maus....

Why must you do this to him? Don't you know how thin these walls are?

Yet every night, every single fucking night your soft moans penetrate his ears and wear him down until he's nothing but a slobbering mess against his wall.

And tonight was no different. He could hear that little vibrating toy of yours that you rub against your clit- mewling little words of pleasure, begging for a man to come stuff your leaking cunt.

König so wanted it to be him. He wanted to march down the hall, pound on your door, and force you down onto that squeaking bed of yours.

Now he was pressed against the wall, his ear listening desperately as his hand pumped beads of cum out of his cock. His saliva dribbled onto the wall, and he pressed his cock against the cold surface- wishing it wasn't there to separate the two of you.

He could hear your moans pick up in pace and knew you were close to your finish- but he wasn't even close to his. Please little maus, go further, cum again, then again and again until you're crying from overstimulation.

Please fuck yourself on your fingers, imagining that it was your neighbor that was shoving his too big cock into your tight cunt.

"mehr, gib mir mehr baby...." he cooed to himself quietly as he practically rutted against the wall.

"yes!" your muffled gasp came from behind the wall and König almost choked on his breath. You came, he knew it, and he knew what it sounded like.

"schmutzige schlampe, will dich stopfen...." he groaned under his breath as he fucked his cock into his two fists- one not being enough to cover the area of his thick shaft.

Fuck maus, you had no idea what you were doing to him.

How can you do this every night and smile and greet him in the morning like nothing? Why not hold yourself accountable for the blood you send to his groin?

After all, you are responsible for how he acts. Might as well help him by wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. All he wants is to see your glassy eyes, lashes brimming with tears, and the lewd sounds that came from your throat as you gagged on his length.

Oh god, he could feel it creeping up, that sweet release that would drip down his wall. With a low groan, and the furrow of his brows an orgasm ripped through him.

It causes his hips to rut once, twice more against the wall before his cum shot out in hot, sticky, white ropes. König panted, watching as his release slid down the wall; he cursed himself; such fucking pervert.

He's such a fucking pervert.

But so are you.

MASTERLIST

please don't copy or repost on any platforms without my permission

LIKES AND BLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Price: Why is Simon crying? Y/N: He took a 'which Kortac member are you' quiz Price: And? Y/N: And he got König

[tawnfawn]

intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear. 

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead. 

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons. 

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?” 

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

[qpiiee]

– meow meow meow

– you are a good psychologist

follow my telegram – qpiiee

[cod-dump]

König: Alright, let's get this over with...

König: Horangi, don't read fanfiction while on the field

Horangi, on his phone: I'm writing it

König: Roze, I BEG YOU to follow your orders

Roze: Beg harder

König: ... Hutch, you're the only one who isn't a disappointment

Hutch: Thanks, Colonel

[cryforabel]

könig most definitely has a wet cat face under that mask

long greasy ginger hair, a crooked nose from being broken one too many times, blue wet eyes, thick eyebrows, and small freckles littering his face.

he’s very self conscious about the way he looks because of bullying he endured as a child. sometimes könig will cover his mouth when he smiles on account of him worrying about his teeth.

i love my wet cat

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

just thinking about getting all dressed up elegantly for a military ball… it’s the first time the men from KorTac have seen you outside of your uniform or training clothes. you walk down the stairs with such grace. your heels softly click against the stairs with each step. they almost can’t believe that it’s really you in that gorgeous black dress.

horangi waits for you at the bottom of the stairs with his hand extended out for you to hold onto — a true gentleman with a smug grin on his face.

out of nowhere, könig comes barreling through with his massive stature, completely bulldogging horangi to the floor, so he can be the one to hold your hand while you come down the stairs.

you pause your walking and look down to horangi, who is now lying on the floor, playfully groaning from the pain of being roughed up by a man with the strength that könig has. he knew that he was playing with fire when trying to court you, but he wanted to shoot his shot anyways.

“are you alright down there, horangi?” you ask with a small giggle, and he gives you a small thumbs up in response. you return your gaze to the oversized male who still had his palm extended to you — waiting for you to place your hand in his.

“you look so pretty tonight, maus.”

[yawnderu]

OKAY BUT !!!!!!!!! if 141 has a spoiled, bratty catgirl then kortac for sure has a very naive and sweet puppygirl! she doesn't understand when they mock her or call her dumb, in fact she thinks that they're being so nice when they say "oh, so you CAN use your brain after all" or "wow, didn't think you'd figure that one out" etc. and laugh. her tail is wagging so hard and she's so excited because that's the biggest amount of praise she ever gets from them.

Yes yes!! TF141 and their spoiled, bratty catgirl could never!!

The KorTac men are so mean, always mocking you for that tiny pea-sized brain you have, purposely getting you riled up with their tone and body language even while they're being so mean to you :(((

They like seeing your expression as they switch their tone and call you their dumb little mutt, clapping their hands and speaking in an excited tone just to see the way your ass moves with your wagging tail, taking turns sitting you on their laps just for you to pepper their rough, scarred faces in wet kisses and licks :(((

Disgusting perverts they are, a group full of mercenaries taking advantage of a puppygirl who's always so excited to see them and has unwavering loyalty towards them, but they can't be that bad if they always give you the tastiest treats even when you have to lick different foods from their hard, huge cocks, right? <333

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Catdad!Konig calling you Mäuschen but ONLY because his cat has beef w you for no reason. AKA kitty keeps trying to munch on your arm when you're simply minding your own business.

Konig: why are my girls fighting? :')