#really wouldn’t kill Konig

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Price - Ghost - König

fuck marry kill? 😈😈

See kill really isn’t an option for any of these guys but:

Fuck Ghost

Marry Price

Kill König (I’m sorry bby)

Here’s the post this is from! Feel free to send more

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself. 

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac. 

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services. 

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself. 

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface. 

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation. 

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true) 

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier. 

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work. 

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful. 

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me? 

Yes, he can hear you. 

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep. 

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail. 

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train. 

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think. 

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room. 

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway. 

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively. 

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in. 

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him? 

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse. 

— Where do you want me to start, sir? 

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry. 

— The living room. If it’s not too much. 

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker. 

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless. 

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch? 

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it. 

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes. 

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit. 

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left. 

— Alright. Anything else? 

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway. 

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself. 

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you. 

And he only knew you for an hour tops. 

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours? 

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits. 

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service. 

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember. 

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body. 

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died. 

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad. 

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be. 

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face. 

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself. 

— What is it, liebling? 

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss. 

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him. 

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow. 

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already. 

He might not even let you go after. 

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment. 

— Alright. I will do it right away then. 

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless. 

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside. 

— I will divide everything into categories, alright? 

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces. 

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is. 

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely. 

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate. 

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. 

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in. 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*.... Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...

Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….

CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.

It was just one night.

Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.

But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.

“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.

“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.

He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.

He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.

You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.

You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.

You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.

One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.

“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”

Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.

“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.

“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.

“You have to,” you moan. “König–”

“I love you.”

You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.

“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.

You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.

But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.

He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.

He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.

He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.

It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...

There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.

“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.

“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.

But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.

He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.

You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.

“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.

“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.

But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.

“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.

You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.

“...What?”

He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.

“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”

You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.

This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.

Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”

[s0ulryo]

König with a Medic S/O Scenario *:･ﾟ

[König x Reader] Synopsis: König getting patched up by his favorite medic —you. Tags: Soft, konig lovers we rise, established relationship (i forget to put this tag on a ton of things whoops), mentions of distress (?) Notes: Prolly ooc, not proofread, his voice is so mmmmm, also my brain blanked so many times while writing this so im vv sorry for the wonky formatting

Thank you @uselsshuman for letting me write about this!

(Reader is always gn unless specified otherwise.)

König dislikes a lot of things. He wouldn’t say he hates anything but the list of dislikes has grown over the years. For example, König dislikes crowded places, the smell of cigarettes, getting injured, having to go to a medic to treat his injury, having to see you — who is a medic to treat his injury, having to get chewed out by you for obtaining an injury — you get the point.

So here he sits, listening to you freak out about the injury he obtained while being deployed. He knows you don’t mean any harm by it; you’re just concerned for his safety — König appreciates it, he really does — but he’s also a little stressed out by your current commentary.

“Oh my God — König, how the hell did you manage to do this?”

He honestly doesn’t think it’s that bad; sure, the wound looks terrible — but it doesn’t feel too horrible, so it can’t be too bad, right?

Wrong.

“König, are you listening to me? König, are you alright?”

König’s very thankful for you. He thinks you’re awfully nice and very understanding about his feelings, and in all honesty, he’s not sure how he managed to get with someone like you, but he’s not going to question it — he’s just going to enjoy it.

“Sorry, could you repeat what you just said?” König mumbles out sheepishly.

He can’t help it. You’re exceptionally attractive, and König now realizes his arm is in an exceptional amount of pain — and bleeding tremendously. ‘Things like attractive S/O and immense amounts of pain due to physical injury usually make it difficult to focus,’ he reasons to himself.

Sighing, you shake your head. “König, please try to avoid getting injured — this is the second time this week….”

Nodding softly in acknowledgment, König continues to watch you gather the supplies you need to patch his arm up; his eyes flicker around in discomfort, bouncing his leg up and down to keep his mind occupied. Sure he’s sustained worse injuries than this, but getting patched up has always made him anxious.

Swallowing thickly, König tries to place himself out of this situation – somewhere nicer than your medical workspace that smells like antiseptic – anywhere else than here.

He watches you set to work, his eyes closely following the movement of your hands on his arm, cleaning the wound gently, trying to make the process quicker and easier on him.

He’s vaguely aware that his breathing got heavier or how he’s feeling light headed, heart in his throat – vaguely aware that you’re calling his name.

“…ig” “…önig”

He can see you talking, but he can’t hear you very well; bouncing his leg more rapidly, he tries to say anything to tell you how he feels, but he can’t get any words out.

“..ey…hey big guy – look, I’m here, you’re alright – okay?” You try to get him to focus on you, not necessarily your words but just on you.

"Try to take a big breath, big guy – yeah, just like that – breathe in, breathe out…You're doing great König.”

Following your instructions König (tries) to take a deep breath in and out, focusing on what you smell like and your voice. König feels a little stupid, he’s gotten shot – almost killed before, but he can’t take a little doctor's visit? So yeah, it's definitely a critical hit on his ego; he’s just glad it’s you with him.

After calming down a bit König bites the inside of his cheek, diverting his eyes to the door to the far left of the room. He considers bolting out of your office – he won’t have to get patched up, and he won't have to face you, so it’s a win-win situation—

“König dear, don’t try to run out of the room,” you tell him firmly, more so for you than for him – if he decides to make a hasty exit, you conclude that you would not be able to catch the injured man.

“…Am I that obvious [Name]?”

“Yes, dear…You are pretty obvious.”

The silence in the room was deafening, not super awkward – just a bit tense.

König sighs, visibly deflating in his chair; he mutters an apology, watching your figure look in the bottom drawer of your desk. He feels like he’s back in primary school when kids would make fun of him, leaving him all embarrassed.

Well, in this situation, he feels more ashamed than embarrassed.

He continues to watch you shuffle through the drawer until you find what you were looking for – suddenly, you turn to him, smiling triumphantly, motioning for him to stick out his hand to take what you were holding.

“What is it [Name]?” König asks, reaching out for the unknown object in your hand.

Upon further examination, König realizes the object is made of solid metal and cylindrical – resembling a car transmission.

“It’s a fidget toy! I like that one personally because I like the feeling of the transmission shifting gears – but I have some other ones if you would like.”

König stares at you dumbfounded. Diverting his eyes to the small toy in his hand, he starts to mess with it.

“König, I’m going to continue patching you up, alright? Please let me know if you need anything….”

Nodding, he continues to mess with the toy in his hand, gnawing at his bottom lip to suppress a smile.

König, a man that stands at six foot ten inches, just received a fidget toy from his medic S/O – how could he not smile?

“König, I’m done cleaning the wound, but you’ll need some stitches, alright? I’ll try to make this as quick as possible.”

König continues to watch you work while shifting the fidget toy from first gear to sixth gear, grateful for the newfound distraction from the distressing environment he’s currently in. He’s also immensely thankful that you are walking him through everything you do – even though he’s not entirely listening.

“Finished! All patched up, big guy – how are you feeling?” You say, tying off the final stitch on König’s arm.

“Better – I feel better,” König says, fumbling with his words, speaking with such haste, appearing as if you caught him off guard.

“Great, I’ll write down the care instructions for your stitches, so you don’t forget – come back here in two-ish weeks to remove the stitches, alright?

Standing up, he shyly extends his hand out to you, offering to return the toy you graciously lent him.

“Oh, you can keep that big guy – you seem to like it…So you can have it.”

König stares at you dumbfounded again, shifting his gaze from you to the small toy in his hand, back to you.

“…You sure?” König asks you quietly.

“Positive.” You respond, pushing his extended hand back towards him. “I want you to have it.”

König thinks he’s going to combust.

His awfully nice, exceptionally attractive S/O just watched him break down, patched him up, and gave him a gift. He’s not sure what he has ever done to be treated with such care, but if he thinks about it any longer, he might start to cry.

Bending down, he mutters a ‘thank you’ into your neck, tightly wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“König..?” He hears you say softly, “Can we stay like this for a while..?”

Humming in approval, he pulls you closer to him, slightly swaying side to side, putting more of his weight on your body to keep you in place.

You don’t know what injuries König will acquire the next time he’s deployed, but for now, your mind is here – at this moment, with König holding you in his embrace and the steady beating of his heart proving that he’s alive and that he loves you.

[machveil]

hey so I eat your Konig stuff up but if you feel up to it I BEG OF YOU to do something with my sweet(insane) princess(grown man)Krueger it can be like,general partner hcs or soemthing specific idk,I am starved for Krueger content.

I just dropped what I was doing because I need you to know anon!! I need you to know I agree, I’m famished for babygirl (soldier) Krueger

General Thoughts about Sebastian Krueger

you didn’t see me accidentally post this early

so, he’s morally ambiguous in my eyes. the Corporal has canonically killed civilians and escaped custody - do we know why? no, his past Lieutenant literally befriended him to help him get to know that team because he saw “talent in a troubled mind”

given his background, it takes a while for him to open up to you - let alone even think of dating you

he’s got a unique personality, humor that ranges on the darker side. he thinks he’s very funny, and he laughs a little harder when he sees the concerned looks he gets after cracking a joke. if you’re also one to find humor in the dark he’ll take a liking to you - someone that can match his freak lol

he’s a surprisingly light eater - he prefers to eat small meals, little portions, throughout the day something about a sensitive stomach. he doesn’t snack though, he literally just eats small meals, he’ll get a bit of protein, some carbs, vitamins. no one knows why he eats like that - no one really knows why he does what he does generally

he’ll get comfortable with you eventually though, maybe sit down with him while he eats. he can enjoy a comfortable silence. he’s not a fan of small talk, why fill the silence when you have nothing to say?

if you’re dating he’s a stoic, serious body guard for you… but he’s still got a soft spot in his heart, he’ll call you meine Prinzessin/Prinz, meine Herz, little Vogel - his Princess/Prince, his heart, little bird

he’s got a possessive streak - maybe a little unhealthy. he can come off as controlling in some aspects he is, but can you blame him? you’re his to protect, his Herz - who wouldn’t protect someone they hold dear?

[comfortless]

to the anon who was talking about konig and the rule following intention thing: i love you. he seems cheeky like that. BUT i will also climb that big man and start strangling him if he entertained or led on the recruit.

idk, maybe its my rabies, but i would start whacking him grgrgrgrg. wrangle him till he acts right!!!!! (whatever that means)

i also love that anon! 🤭

Being instructed to “act right” for König is more or less the same as following any order at work. “Shoot that target.” is the very same as “Don’t glare at a stranger.” The differences between the König at home and the König on the field are subtle things. No bloodshed and rewards in the form of tenderness and orgasms instead. He’s less rigid, less focused, but still a soldier, the strangest one at that.

Everything is taken as directly as possible, because he’s not going to question any hidden meaning behind words. That’s silly. He always says just what he means, so shouldn’t everyone else?

There’s a lot he just doesn’t get, and your jealousy happens to be one of those things.

He would kill for you, lets you graze your fingertips over his favorite weapons, allows you to hold his face and even pretends that your staring doesn’t make his fingers twitch and sweat bead at his temples. König is loyal and so trusting with you… how dare you accuse him of worshipping some other woman in the same way? How could you even believe that?

Say you, his beloved, put together the pieces, realize that surely this woman is messaging your König during his leave for a reason. There’s an argument to be had, one that’s less of a screaming fit and more of a break down from both sides. You tell him through gritted teeth and tears that you know your intuition isn’t wrong: he’s done something, you just aren’t certain what that something is. There’s no outright accusation spoken, but his face immediately grows red and his eyes narrow.

It’s not that he even cares to question why you would think that way. He just wants to know where he’s failed. What is it that you need that he’s not already providing? He takes an awful picture of his cock each time he’s hard and away from you, even follows it up with one of the aftermath of thinking of you. No other woman makes him feel so starved.

He knows he isn’t very romantic; you would probably prefer actual dates instead of watching him train or following along like a cute accessory at the gym. But he brings you flowers, licks your cunt without hesitation, buys you feminine products and chocolate any time that you’re in need of them. Sure, each picnic date ends with your chest pressed against a sturdy tree or your thighs spread atop the patterned blanket, but the confessions hissed into your hair are true. It’s never just been sex, not to him. It’s love, and that’s one word he never seems to shy away from saying. He’s greedy, wouldn’t want something so simple, not after every moment you’ve spent together.

König might not get why you’re so into some new trend or show, but he listens when you talk about them. Or tries, at least. Really, he had no idea why you would bother explaining to him why you prefer a dress with wiry straps over something cozier when he arrives home, but he’s happy to just listen to your voice and shush you with kisses when he doesn’t know how else to respond.

You’re allowed access to his phone any time you like, even shows you his bank account to prove he hasn’t taken some lady a world away off on some expensive shopping trip or spent a curious amount at a pharmacy. In fact…. He’s barely spent anything while away, all of the transactions are from the last time he was on leave or at that cute little shop he had told you about and brought you home some shiny new gift from. There’s nothing suspicious to be found… except for those messages from the woman he tells you is just a recruit.

So… what if you’re just projecting?

To him, his own jealousy is righteous.

König almost looks scary when he’s upset, not that he would ever lay a hand on you. Maybe the coffee table will be in disarray, cleared entirely when the thought of you leaving proves to be far too much. His shirt suffers a few massive tears when he grips at his chest to show you just where you’re hurting him.

You may not have outright accused him, but König can’t hold his tongue when he asks you about this imaginary other man. Is he handsome? Does he buy you nice things? Does he make you come hard? How did you meet and just where does he live? Do you love him…?

König would try his utmost to hold back tears. He feels weak when he cries, and the last thing he wants is for you to view him as fragile. He’s supposed to protect you.

But it’s all gone in a flash. His entire being seems to relax when you explain to him that there is no other man. The unshed tears are wiped away, a heavy sigh leaves him when he rubs at his face. He feels like the worst idiot just stood there blinking in surprise while you’re still pissed, but at least that scenario proves to be untrue.

You just want to understand why he’s entertaining some other woman’s flirtations. Is that what telling some recruit she’s got sharp aim and allowing her to grasp at his arm and admire his muscles is..? He will admit that maybe he’s allowed her too much closeness, even if he never has and never will return her affections.

It baffles him entirely for a moment, slows his tongue enough to have a grin curl at his lips. It’s the most flattering thing in the entire world to think that you desire him so much that the thought of sharing makes you like this. The realization that maybe you’re just as territorial as he is is impossibly cute, makes him twice as obnoxious and overbearing when you’re pulled into his arms.

His voice takes an amused lilt when he asks you just what you want him to do about it. Cut her off? He’ll avoid her entirely if it appeases you. He doesn’t want to hurt a woman that isn’t an actual enemy, so killing her is certainly out of the question, but he can be scary if you would like that. She wouldn’t like him as much if she saw his face. He would remind you that only a silly thing like yourself could ever be keen on it. Your orders are absolute, so long as he still gets a treat in the end.

[rookiesbookies]

Greek God!Captain John Price x Maiden!Reader

TL:DR - this is what happens to the sacrifices sent to Price from my if the boys were greek gods post. Just a little thought exercise for myself.

Please send requests! I love hearing from you guys! Also Masterlist is pinned on my account❤️

Each of the boys have a forest dedicated to them surrounding the small village. Each are great hunters so it made sense, Konig has the mountain that separates the village from the neighboring war people, serving as protection.

When the neighboring war people did attack, it wasn’t pretty. Often killing half the men and taking whatever women they saw fit.

However, this girl escaped. She ran from their tents, and bolted into the woods. It wasn’t long before the men chased after her. Axes in hand. Yelling. Sprinting. Laughing darkly. Taunting her.

She ran as far as she could. She could see the fir trees. The big, thick, Grand Firs that were close together like a shield. She was lucky they hadn’t gotten her past the mountain. She would have been done for.

Her knees scraped against the limbs of the trees. Sap stuck to her whole body. Her dress tore against the branches. She began to cry.

Until she saw it. The glittering alter to one of their gods. She flung herself atop it.

She breathed out a prayer.

“Dear God Price, please God of Protection, save me now. Take me as a sacrifice if you must. Please, I beg of you. Protect me or send me a savior.” She cried out against the gold bench. Her fists clenched in the thin fabric of the drape over the altar.

She could hear the shouts of the men, gasping and crying harder.

She turned over and put her head in her hands, pulling her knees close. She prayed they’d run right past her.

She felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. She opened her mouth to scream but another covered it.

“Don’t. You’ll give us away, lass.”

She wanted to cry as she watched the war people stand in front of her, peeking around. It was as if they didn’t see her or the altar.

“See, yer a bit young for what I normally take as sacrifice, but I’m sure I can put a use to ya.”

As the people walked away she sighed and mumbled, “where do the other women god?”

“Simple, really. I see if they would fit as a bride for myself. If it doesnt work out, say we aren’t compatible, I see if I can find a man in another neighboring town that would best suit them and protect them. I put an illusion on the town yer from, as it is so remote, so that if you ever saw any of the women you wouldn’t recognize them.” He cleared his throat, “not very good pickings from your village as I see it.”

“So what is to happen to me?”

“I will see if you will work as a bride, if you do not, I will find you a protector and husband to care for you for the rest of your days.”

She shot up and hugged him. She didn’t expect gods to be this benevolent, much less a son of Zeus, but she had dreamed of escaping her village for so long. The torment of the war people was too much.

“But you said I was too young-“ she started. He patted her head.

“If it works out it will be a miracle. You’re about 10 years younger than I wanted my wife to be for the rest of time, but it will do.” He sighed, “most women do not seem to get along with me, so it would be a great deal of luck needed for you to.”

He tucked a hand under her knees and one behind her back. She held onto him around his neck as he flew. He landed in a far section of the woods. There was a cottage on top of a hill, it looks very nice and large. There was a big chimney sticking up from it with soft smoke coming from it.

“Did you mean to leave the fire burning?”

“I was in a bit of a hurry when I heard your prayer.” Price gently set her down before making his way inside. “I’m going to be chopping wood to keep the fire going out back. If you need anything, I won't be hard to find.”

She spotted dishes in the sink and decided she could have some use. So, she grabbed a wash rag and began to wash the glass cups and ceramic plates. She noticed the table had four places set. She wondered why, she assumed most gods spent their time alone. Maybe a second would make sense for whatever sacrificial woman he had at that point. But four?

There was a loud knock at the door. Without hesitation, three men came strolling in.

“Hello lass, could ya point us in the direction of Price?”

She pointed softly towards the back door of the cabin, the man with the mohawk and the tanner man walked toward the door. The blonde one stood there and stared at her.

“Bit earlier for a sacrifice ‘in’it?”

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, so she looked down at her feet.

The man huffed and watched the back door. The two men came back in with Price, the one with the mohawk had his arm around Price’s shoulder and they were laughing.

“I hope Simon didn’t scare you too bad, love!” The one with the mohawk chirped. “I’m Soap, one of yer resident gods. And that’s Gaz.”

Gaz gave a little wave.

She would admit, she hadn’t assumed gods played poker or that they ate. However, Price did end up cooking a noodle meal with beef sauce. It had a couple vegetables like onions and peppers in it, which he had asked her to help slice. She did so with no complaints.

“I see you took to washing dishes earlier.”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“I was just a bit surprised, love, most of the women just make themselves at home on the couch or try to take me to bed to see what a god can do.”

“Oh,” she said softly. She carefully watched the knife as she cut. Price stepped away to get a spare chair from a closet, Soap and Gaz unfolded the table to reveal a hidden piece that made it longer.

Price helped teach her how to finish cooking the meal before plating for the boys and themselves. Price guided her to the seat next to his and they all ate merrily.

“Say, Captain, how do ya feel about a wee game of poker?” Soap began to deal and she gestured that she didn’t want to. “Ever played, lass?”

She shook her head.

“Watch the master then.” Soap flexed his arms with a proud smile, Simon rolled his eyes and Gaz jabbed him in the stomach, making him smack his hand pout.

The game continued and she watched all the men play, Price was showing her his card and talking her through the rules and the different hands as the game went on, using it as a way to throw Soap off. By the end of the night, Simon had won two games, Price had won three, Gaz had won two, and Soap had won one.

The boy began to head out and Simon smacked the back of Soap’s head, “so much of a winner now are ya,” and laughed to himself.

Price laughed to himself about it as well, under his breath though, he didn’t need Soap hearing him and getting upset or offended.

“How was that for a night, love?”

She giggled, finally starting to warm up to the god in front of her, “pretty fun.”

“I hope you don’t mind helping me clean up.” He said softly as she pushed a chair in and took plates to the sink. Price cleaned up the drink Gaz had accidentally knocked over on himself when Simon won.

Her cheeks began to heat up as he stood behind her, putting a plate in the sink. The were meer inches between them. “There’s spare undershirts of mine in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe up stairs. Go get some rest, I’ll take the couch.”

“I-I can’t rob you of your bed! That feels cruel!”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded profusely.

“Than I suppose I have another idea, since I refuse to make a lady take the couch.”

Part 2 is on my pinned master list

Let me know in comments or my inbox if you want a part 2! Please sent requests in my inbox!

[soggyriceee]

Hello, I hope you are having a great day.

I haven't been able to get Slasher König and his reading wife out of my head for days. It's a scenario where he comes home from killing someone and asks his wife if she's proud of him, to which she says yes and some HUGE obscenity ensues.

Also if you can include something like the reader is madly obsessed with how strong König is (especially his arms) and how tall he is.

Thanks 🙇‍♀️

proud of me | Konig

sorry for how late this was, im trying to catch up on all the requests y'all

warnings: mentions of killing, oral(f! and m! receiving), somno, fingering, unprotected p in v, aggressive, dom to slightly sub Koni, cowgirl, missionary,

you didnt really expect him to do it. I mean, who would expect your husband to go and murder your ex? your stalker ex.

" he won't stop calling me from different numbers." you'd cry to him, trying to refrain from waking your 2 year old baby. you and Konig had been married for 4 years now, together for 7. you would think any other ex's you've had would be married or with their true love. right? not your ex.

every year around your birthday, he'd call. you'd assumed every year he changed his phone number, and then using fake ones after you blocked his first number. you hadn't told Konig about it until it hit the third year. the year you got married. thats when the calls would get worse. when you had your baby it was no better.

Konig was not happy when he had to figure out on your honeymoon when you ex managed to track you down in the middle of Cancun, threatening to kill himself if you continued to hurt him. you never imagined your honeymoon with the love of your life being completely ruined by someone from years ago. "Im so sorry, I never thought it would get this bad." you cried to him as the police took your ex off the beach.

from then on Konig always threatened to find your ex, fighting him or even killing him for doing this to you. to both of you. but you didnt want Konig to leave. not when you were in the process of getting pregnant with your second baby. "what if you go to jail and I get a positive result." you cried, pulling him arm back to the bed as he got up from the bed, moving towards the drawer the gun lived.

he agreed, not wanting to hurt you more than you were already hurting. but he also felt completely useless in this fight. your ex wouldn’t leave you alone. not until you and Konig divorced. but that wasn’t an option for either of you and you both were content on remaining together.

that’s when you decided to get a restraining order on him. Konig was delighted you came to that conclusion yourself and even offered to pay for the lawyer if you needed one. thankfully, there was no fee for getting a restraining order and the process was done quickly and in no time.

but, of course, why would your ex even care?

this only seemed to anger him more and made him more and more persistent on talking to you. he’d find you in parks when you’d take your now 3 year old to the park. Konig would come speeding over but of course he’d run before Konig could even get there. it angered Konig. to the point you two began to argue about it.

this led to lonely nights. Konig sleeping on the couch or in the baby’s room. you were left alone to keep yourself warm at night. the sex was different. it was full of anger and rage. and it only happened when Konig came home from a rough day, using you to get off and then returning to the living room to sleep. you felt disgusted with yourself. but also hurt at how he was letting your ex ruin you guys’ marriage.

the calls and texts from your ex never stopped. he still showed up at random places and threatening to kill you if you didn’t come with him. you’d call the cops now instead of Konig, knowing that he’d get fined or even put to jail for breaking the order. but the second it ended, he began to show up at your home.

Konig knew about it. but apart of him didn’t care anymore. he felt like it wasn’t going to stop no matter what. he felt completely useless. he didn’t feel like a man.

and so the lonely nights continued, the aggressive loveless sex continued. your baby was growing up in a house that had no love. and you tried your best. despite working longer hours now just to stay away from home. not even to simply stay away from your ex now. to stay away from Konig as well.

you began to lose weight, drastically. the lack of food and sleep was catching up to you and Konig noticed. he still loves you. you were his soulmate and never for a moment did he doubt that. he hated how he was treating you. but he didn’t know why he couldn’t just talk to you about it. not until he came into the room, the sight of you sleeping with your baby in your arms.

he crawled into bed beside you, wrapping one arm around your waist, swallowing back the tears of guilt but also happiness. he was finally right beside you in bed where he belonged.

“i’m going to make this right for us.” he whispered in your sleeping ear, kissing your cheek before shuffling silently out the bed and eventually out the house.

the next morning you woke up to a text from Konig. “gonna be out until late tonight. make sure the baby’s asleep when i get home. please. i love you.” of course the text worried you, and the spamming of calls did no good for you at all. he simply let it ring and go to voice mail. it was only 11:20 or so, when did he leave and for how long will he be gone?

the rest of your day was full of anxiety and stress. your baby was crying throughout the day, unable to find something to make themselves happy. you were unable to do the same.

every ten minuets youd check your phone to see if Konig said anything. a text, even a simple “hey i’m okay.” but you got nothing. that’s when it hit you that you also haven’t heard/seen much of your ex. maybe it was just a coincidence, nothing to be too worked up over. right?

as night fell, you were finally able to get your baby to relax and fall asleep in his own bed. it was 9 now, still nothing from Konig. plopping on the couch, you closed your eyes, swallowing back the tears that wanted to escape but couldn’t. he was coming home. you had to keep telling yourself that.

you hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep on the couch until you shuffled awake slowly, feeling something moving inside you. panicked, you woke up, looking right at the source of the feeling.

between your legs laid Konig, his head resting on your thigh, lips sucking on your clit while his ring and middle finger pushed in and out of you. his eyes were closed, moaning into your pussy as his tongue circled your clit, his lips sucking it right back into his mouth after.

your hand pressed against his head, pushing him alway. well trying. his eyes shot open, looking straight into your as his arm pulled you closer onto his face rather than farther. his fingers hit deeper inside you with that, a whimper leaving past you.

he placed his head back on your thighs, humming satisfied with your lack of fight. his tongue went back to playing with your clit, his eyes remaining on yours. you tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how much you were enjoying it. but he knew you were. no matter how hard he tried he knew exactly how to get you to finish.

almost as if it was a subconscious move, your fingers wrapped into his hair, tugging gently. “are you proud.. of me?" he moaned into your cunt, moving your fingers in a 'come here' movement. your toes curled instantly, pussy clenching around him. "f-for what?" you moaned out, still trying to fully take in what was happening.

he pulled your clit with his lip, sticking his tongue out to let it drool over your clit. "I took care of everything. we're gonna be so much happier maus." he said, taking his thumb to rub his spit against your clit.

your head that was tilted back quickly shot up, stuttering out "what?" he smiled and sat up, removing his shirt before standing. you took in his tall figure, every muscle curve on his arms and chest. he slid his hands to his pant buckle, undoing his buckle. slowly he slid his pants down, his member springing up.

the tip was red, dripping pre cum slowly. "me and you and our baby. were gonna be happy forever." he smiled, walking closer to you. you sat up, swallowing and looking up to the tall man. his hands moved to his hard on, grabbing it gently before tapping it on your face. "open." he breathed out. and so you did.

"I killed him." he said before stuffing your mouth, shoving all of himself in your mouth. your hands gripped his thigh, whimpering around him. his hands went behind your head, guiding you back and forth on his length. he groaned, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.

"a..are you proud of me maus? proud what I did for our family." he moaned, moving his hips back and forth against you. but of course you couldn't respond. how would you respond when your throat and mouth is stretched out by the size of him? so all you could do was satisfy him with a weak whimper.

his hips didn't stop thrusting against your face, breathing out heavily. "mm fuck.. take me so well maus." he moaned, watching as your mouth spread around him. tears fell from your eyes, fingers digging into his muscled thighs. "too much for you libe? cant take it all?" he moaned, pulling his dick out your mouth.

drool followed, your lips swollen. his hand cupped your chin to force you to look up at him, a fake sympathetic look on his face. "b-been so.. long." you panted, swallowing while keeping your eyes on him. this caused a big smile on his face now, moving to sit beside you. "come sit." he smiled.

you slowly made your way on his lap, taking in how big he was against you. one of is hands moved up to your chin, pulling you to his lips. the mix of his pre cum and your spit made a mess on each others face. "tell me. tell me your proud of me." he said against your lips, his other hand sliding between your thighs to rub your puffy clit.

you whimpered out, hands finding his broad shoulders, gripping them. "s-so proud of you." you whimpered, slowly moving your hips against his finger. "say it again." he demanded, watching your body react.

your one hand moved up to his hair, gripping it as your orgasm rapidly approached. "im sop-proud of you Koni.. did s-so good." you moaned out, moving your hips against his fingers faster. he moaned out, thrusting his hips up before removing his finger. "need you to show me." he said, gripping your hips to lift you from his lap and align you with his tip.

"okay j-just go slow pl- fuck!" Konig had ignored your request completely, pushing you all the way down on his length. naturally, your body fell against his as he bottomed out inside you, feeling every inch of him while a surprised squeak left your lips. "s-sorry libe", he chuckled, "just got too excited."

his hips moved out of your pussy slow, before pushing deep inside of you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, beginning to feel how small you really were against his body. the muscles in his shoulders tensed, a low growl emitting from him. his large hands wrapped almost fully around d your waist, allowing him to move you at the pace he wants you to, turning you into a real life flashlight.

and it made you even wetter.

"s-so fucking small against me yeah? happy I saved you from that man huh libe? are you happy I saved the day?" he whispered, bouncing you up and down. you wanted to respond, but you couldnt. you were getting off on the fact he was manhandling you, his size compared to you causing your cunt to squelch around him. so all you could give him was a small pathetic nod, partnered with a small meek ‘yes.

he kept up the pace he set for you, beginning to thrust up into you. “oh fuck.. so deep inside this pussy. filling yoh all the way up.” he groaned, his head digging into your shoulder. your arms wrapped around his neck, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your body fell to mush in his grip.

“s-so big.” yoh whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hitting your lip, trying not to be too loud to wake your kid. he chuckled, slowing his pace to a halt, letting you also rest. “too much?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your neck before looking to you. you nodded, whimpering out another ‘yes.

he laid you on the couch, sliding out of your cunt leaving yoh throbbing. he laid above you, tapping his length on your pussy. “so wet.. you like me killing for you don’t you?” he whispered, cupping yohr cheek with his hand. you nodded quickly, looking up at him.

his other hand ran up and down your inner thigh, gripping it. “you gotta be quiet for me maus.. don’t wanna wake our baby.” he whisperer, aligning his tip before slowly pushing in, whimpering out as you wrapped around him. your eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open. his hand quickly found your mouth, head pressing against yours.

he took a shaky breath before sliding oht slowly and pushing back in, whimpering out again. slowly he picked up the pace, his hands finding your hips to hold you down and allow him to go faster and deeper. “so fucking tight.. and it’s all mine.” he groaned, looking at you through his eyelashes. his hips slapped against yours, filling the room with the sound of slapping and moans.

your hands found the back of his head, pulling tightly on his hair. he whimpered out, gripping your hips a bit tighter, releasing his hand from your mouth. “it’s a-all yours Koni. just yours.” you moaned, raising your legs to wrap around his waist. he whimpered out a ‘fuck’, raising his head to look into your eyes. “t-tell me again.” he moaned, moving faster.

he was close you could tell. his breaths got shaky and his fingers dug into your hips. “this pussy is.. is all yours.” you cooed, tugging his hair just a bit. he groaned, pushing your legs up to your chest a bit more, drilling right against your womb. “oh please o-pull my hair more.” he whimpered, looking down to you with desperate eyes.

you smirked, tugging his hair so his head was pulled back, exposing the veins in his neck. your pussy clenched around him, the idea of being in control of the man who towers over you completely. “you l-like being controlled like this huh?” you whisper, clenching around his cock tighter. he whimpered, his hands working up your body now to your breasts.

“i-i’m gonna.. i’m gonna cum libe.” he whimpered, playing with your nipples. you gasped softly, your back arching off the couch slightly. his hips drilled into ykh faster, chasing his own high. his desperation caused yohr pussy to pulse around him, your stomach turning. “so close.. just w-wait for me Koni.” you moaned, your legs tightening around him.

you let his hair go, your hand gripping his face to pull him down to kiss you. the kiss was deep and fast, silencing each others moans. “please libe.. i c-cant hold it anymore.” he begged against your lips, one hand sliding between your bodies to your clit. “keep going in so c-close.. fuck.”

naturally, his hips moved quicker, desperate taking over the once controlled man. his tip abused your womb, causing tears to brim at your eyes as your cunt convulsed around his cock. "c-cum in me Koni" you moaned out, feeling yourself let go. but you didn't have to finish your sentence before his head dropped in between your neck, biting down on your skin to try and silence himself. his fingers dug into your hips, his own hips pounding into you as he forced his cum deeper into you.

your own body shook under him, your hands gripping his hair as you let the pleasure course threw your body. "q-quiet libe.. c-can't wake the baby." he whimpered, placing his hand over your mouth as you came down from your high. he thrusted slowly in and out of you, his body pressed flat against yours. your hands let go of his hair as your body relaxed, your legs shaking less. his hand left your mouth, head still in your neck.

"did you.. really kill him Konig?" you finally asked after a bit of silence. but you got nothing in return. instead, you were hit with soft snoring in your ear, Konigs arms wrapped around your body. you felt him softening inside you, causing the heat to rush to your cheeks. smiling, you kissed his forehead before pressing your head back on the couch, closing your eyes and drifting off to the sound of his snoring.

another request done finally. college is kicking my ass y'all. dont do it. (jkjkjk)

[charlie-roe]

Konig Headcanons - SFW

To preface, I thoroughly, without a doubt, 1000% stand behind the fact that Konig is not a shy uwu boi. He’s got anxiety not a weak constitution. This is just generally about him as a person + a lil drabble about relationships but nothing explicit (I will post that later tehe).

Let’s talk about his anxiety. He has it, but he’s not a crybaby. He’s a grown man who kills people for a living. Do you really think if you hurt his feelings he’d steeple his index fingers together and his eyes would water? No, absolutely fuckin’ not. I think his anxiety has to do with being uncomfortable in situations that he’s not prepared for. If he’s thoroughly briefed on a mission, familiar with people or places, given detailed directions, etc he’s g2g. And I still think even if he’s uncomfortable he wouldn’t outright show it. But he is a fidgeter. He’d probably clench and unclench his fists, rub the hem of his shirt between his fingers, bounce his leg if he’s sitting, pull out his phone to “check the time” often, etc. Konig wouldn’t announce that he’s anxious.

His bio says that he has severe social anxiety and was bullied as a child but doesn’t give more details about his anxiety than that. I see a lot of headcanons saying that it’s because he was chubby, had a stutter, or a harelip but I don’t think that’s the cause. I think he grew up in a very remote area and didn’t have much contact with kids his age (only child vibes), so he didn’t develop social skills. Maybe homeschooled or something. So, I think kids bullied him for being a bit awkward at times, not understanding social cues or simply not talking because he just didn’t know what to say.

 Otherwise, I imagine him to be very confident, almost borderline cocky. With people he’s familiar with he can be funny, maybe even goofy and have a good time. Have you heard his voice lines in the game? He’s charismatic because he knows what he’s doing and he’s in his element. Some of his voice lines are even funny. His anxiety is nonexistent when he’s on missions because of this and why he has good comebacks. Especially if he snipes someone and he makes the comment “Heh, and they said I couldn’t be a sniper.” COCKY AF. I think it’s almost like once he’s locked in on a mission, he goes into a certain corner of his brain that is a lil bit bloodthirsty and violent and a bit psychotic. Killer autopilot mode. Because who dafuq just breaks someone’s back over their knees? An entire personality crafted just for war.

Why did he join the military? I think honestly because where he grew up didn’t have many career choices. I imagine he grew up in a little mountain town, so his choices were like a butcher shop, a grocery store, or the post office lmfao. He was good with guns since he hunted since he was a kid and figured that he could send money home to his family and experience the world with the military. Konig’s size and his constant fidgeting barred him from being a sniper. People could see his big ass from a mile away even in a ghillie suit, he just couldn’t blend in no matter how small he tried to scrunch himself together. He was disappointed at first, but I think he came to love being on the front lines and is how the mask came into play. I will explain.

His bio states that there’s a rumor that he wears the hood because underneath is scary. This suggests he’s been mutilated by war, but I think it really is just a rumor. It’s simply a scare tactic and partially for privacy reasons. Imagine being the enemy holed up in a room, the door blasts open and Konig’s inhumanly tall ass steps through the doorway wearing an executioner’s hood and all you can see is the whites of his eyes. It would be terrifying, and it catches the enemy off guard. They’ve heard stories about him, and the legend isn’t a myth. Konig is a known figure throughout the PMC & bad guys world. So, he doesn’t want anyone on the other side to remember his face and see him in public. However, I don’t believe Konig wears his hood all the time. As soon as he’s on that helo headed out, he rips that mask off so he can breathe properly.

So, what’s under the mask? Again, I think the rumors about him being a wreck under the mask are just a part of his lore. I think Konig is either dirty blonde or has auburn hair. I really can’t decide. It’s kept at a shorter length that curls at the ends. His eyes are a like a steely, grey-blue color. His jawline is defined, more in a square shape. Slight cleft chin. His bottom lip is fuller than his top lip. Konig’s nose is slightly crooked from being broken a few times, but the bridge is defined but I think he has a cute lil button-y, retrousse nose. High cheekbones. Thick eyebrows that are sharp in shape. His teeth aren’t 100% perfect, some crowding issues on the bottom. Definitely has had some teeth knocked out so some are fake. He has a light stubble, has the ability to grow a beard but doesn’t because it gets caught in his hood. He does have scars both mild and severe scattered about his face. He’s obviously very muscular, but I do think he has a smidge of fat on his abs because he needs constant food for his body type. Definitely a 12/10 stars pretty man…or he’s very average. There is allegedly a glitch in game where his face is revealed, and he’s not ugly but not hot either.

Let’s address the elephant in the room…his height. I know it’s widely believed or accepted that he is 6’10”. And while I would love to believe that I don’t think it’s true. He is canonically very tall; but I think around 6’6” or 6’7” max and 6’4” being the minimum. Maybe the 6’10” is just another rumor spread to keep up with his imposing legend.

If it’s true that Konig is indeed a colonel, then it would take around 17 years for him to achieve this rank in the German military (I couldn’t find anything specific about Austrian military, plus at this point there’s no clear answer to whether he’s Austrian or German) then canonically he must be at the very least 34 which I agree with, maybe even a few years older. He’s a whole, grown ass adult man not a 20-something year old. I feel like he’s a summer baby.

I honestly have no clue as to what his legal name is. I would like for it to be something sexy like Felix, Leon, Elias, Klaus, or Milo. But I have a feeling it’s something very basic and very Germanic like Karl or Albert. Or even worse something ugly like Wolfgang but I won’t even entertain that idea. I think the name Konig just comes from his cockiness. He’s the king on the battlefield because he excels at what he does. He took down an entire terrorist cell by himself. I’ve seen some people say that maybe it’s his last name or maybe even his first name, but I don’t think that’s right either.

It takes him some time to warm up to people, so he can come off as shy at first or maybe even rude/harsh. But really, he’s just observing to see how he can act around them. If they seem like they wouldn’t appreciate a dirty joke, he won’t say anything inappropriate. He bases his personality on the energy they project. They like to goof off? He can be a dumbass around them. They’re kind and polite? Konig will give it right back. Are they harsh and blunt? He’s got that personality under his belt too. Not to say he doesn’t have his own “real” personality, but I think this is one of his ways to get around his social anxiety.

He won’t shy away from going out with his friends or teammates. In fact, I think he’s funnier when he’s drunk, but he’s still reserved and doesn’t get blackout drunk. He definitely wouldn’t dance or sing, but he gets very chatty and loves to joke but only with the people he knows. He’ll play pool with the guys. He probably wouldn’t chat up strangers at the bar on his own or do something to draw attention to himself. But if someone comes up to him, he’s not going to clam up. Probably just come off as awkward and not have much to say because he ain’t know them like that.

I think he’s popular with the ladies for sure. Like girls definitely notice him and crush on him. I definitely don’t think he’s a 34+ year old virgin or only has a few bodies under his belt. But Konig also isn’t a man whore (but I do love the idea of it). He’s sitting at a 10-15 body count. Not too little, not a whole lot. I don’t think he’s interested in barrack bunnies, but he also would be lying if he said he’s never slept with a fellow soldier that he got close to. But I don’t think he’s the type for a relationship due to his job. He’s always going out on missions in other countries for weeks at a time. When he comes back, he’s exhausted and doesn’t have the energy to put into a relationship so he feels like it’s not fair to have a significant other. Unfortunately, he gives me situationship vibes, but he doesn’t mean for it to happen and in fact doesn’t really care for casual flings, but they just happen. Just keeps seeing the same girl for a few months at a time but then cuts ties when things get a bit too serious. Konig wouldn’t mind having a partner, but he wants to wait until he’s retired so he’s able to actually put effort into the relationship.

Warning: In my world I depict Konig as straight, so the following is based on that belief. I think Konig has a thing for women with long blonde hair, but otherwise doesn’t care too much about height, body shape, weight or race as long as he thinks they’re pretty. His ideal girl would be calm, kind, polite but can dish & take jokes and able to let loose once in a while. I don’t think he’d go for obnoxious, loud or high maintenance ladies. Doesn’t mind someone with a bit of fire to them. He wants a woman, not a silly lil baby lolita egirl teeny bopper (sorry to those who love this idea) so I don’t think he’d go for women under 25ish. He likes them more mature with ambition and a steady head. He doesn’t mind spoiling them every so often, but also thinks women shouldn’t use him for his money either. He doesn’t feel emasculated when his girl pays for dinner. He thinks that a relationship should be equal and fair on both sides. Definite plus if she’s a great cook because this man loves to eat.

For hobbies I think Konig enjoys hunting, he makes his own beer when he’s on leave, hiking, he’s a good cook (at least when it comes to Austrian/German/whatever Activision decides his nationality is today) and has project cars. Let’s break it down.

He grew up in the mountains, so there’s prey animals in abundance and I like to think he did it as a kid with his father or another father figure. He does feel bad for the animals he hunts, but he makes sure to use up every part so nothing goes to waste. Obviously, he uses the meat, he uses the pelts for crafting, he does have a bone collection going and if he took an especially magnificent specimen, he will have it mounted on his cabin wall because he dabbles a little bit in taxidermy but isn’t a trophy hunter.

He’s Austrian/German so beer is in his DNA. He likes to experiment and see what flavors he can create when he makes his beer. If Konig brews a batch that is really good, he will share with family & friends but usually it’s just for his personal consumption. He doesn’t just make beer though; in the summer he’ll make his own wine from berries because his mom/grandma loves it. Lowkey a mama’s boy.

I’d also like to think that he learned cooking with his mom or grandma when he was little. They’d have him help with the small stuff and would hang out with them in the kitchen and observe. As he got older, he would take more part of the cooking to the point where he’d offer to make dinner so his mom/granny whoever can relax. Plus, as I said this man loves to eat and when he’s at his own place off duty he craves hearty meals and mama ain’t there to cook.

I honestly have no source or idea why he likes project cars. I think it mostly has to do with keeping him busy and focused on something. I don’t think Konig tunes them as performance cars, so I don’t think he races them or does anything crazy with them. He does, however, like to drive around for fun, especially on long, windy mountain roads.

Konig loves music and listens to a wide range of it, but I think he’d especially be into German metal (think Rammstein- very stereotypical, I know), but likes Type-O Negative, etc. Anything hard rock. For some reason he likes Sublime even though it’s widely different to what he usually listens to. He hates country music.

If I have any more that I think of I will add. I hope that the big hype surrounding Konig will make Activision bring him more into the game. Maybe not the sole focus of the game, but a campaign mission here or there or he makes an appearance in the very least. I’m just not sure how it would work out because per canon SpecGru and KorTac are rivals. Whether this means they’re actually enemies or just competition in campaign mode or rivals for multiplayer to simplify things I’m still debating about.

Anyhoo, any thoughts or comments are appreciated! I just really wanted to take this from a logical standpoint from what we know and what can be speculated based on the little information we’ve been given about him. I don’t think anyone understands how bad I need him to be real.

[diejager]

Wait, why does everyone want reader to eat the babies? THEY'RE HER BABIES

Like i feel like she would be overprotective, trying to shield them away from konig. Just a caring mama who loves her young 🥺

I uh… wouldn’t know, but biology made mother’s brains change to prioritise their offspring, but anything can happen, no? You’re sad and lonely, locked away somewhere unfamiliar, your only source of physical affection is the few dozen of squid that latch onto you and that need care. The other option is the father of your children and your captor who thinks he’s doing you a favour by being the only one who can provide and keeping you confined to his labyrinth-like cave.

Since König doesn’t really love his little squid monstrosities, threatening to take care of them if they cause you too much trouble. That scares you, the looming threat of having your only true source of affection taken away from you in any case. Even if they leave little marks on you, nip and suck on your skin, you love them, you care for them and you’re just so protective of him.

The worse case scenario is where you crack, break and simply numb everything out, you might act out and end up killing a few, but unless something really happens, you’ll still care for you little babies.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

I have a more dark ask for you, so feel free to ignore it if it makes you uncomfortable. How would TF 141, Konig and Los Vaqueros react when they realize their s/o is a wanted serial killer? They would probably be shocked that such a kind and sweet woman is hiding such a dark secret. To add to the moral ambiguity, she only targets child abusers and rap!sts. Thank you and sorry in advance if this request upsets you.

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧‘𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞?

Task Force 141 (+ König & Los Vaqueros) x fem! reader

Hi! First of all, I feel absolutely comfortable to write about dark themed stuff :) So it’s totally fine and I‘m actually excited to write this. This might take a bit longer than the others, since I think this is a very interesting and good idea.

Love you! 🩷

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

König

He usually never forgets where he puts his phone. But this time he didn’t know where he put it, so he took your phone to calm himself. But as he unlocks your phone he sees a text coming up and at first he tried to ignore it, since he respects your privacy. But one specific word and a name gained his attention…

Job- Josh Williams

What was this Job? You work as a nurse at the hospital. And who is Josh Williams? Is it someone you are treating? But he for sure would know if you told him about a Josh. Curiosity took over him and he clicked on the notification, wanting to find out what this Job is and who the hell Josh is.

Job- Josh Williams

Child abuser. Was on court, got away with it. Mother is scared he might do something to them. Current Location: England, London. Last seen in Bar Soho, alone. You know what to do Ashley. Send a picture of the body as soon as you’re finished. Good luck.

König was shocked. This got to be some sick Joke. Your name is not Ashley and you definitely wouldn’t harm someone. You can’t even kill a spider and start crying when König tells you to just do it. But he decided to swipe and he sees the conversation between you and this person. And then it clicks.

Ashley, the wanted serial killer in England and Austria, is you? That doesn’t make sense. No.

He lets the phone rest on the kitchen table and calls for you. You were in the bathroom, taking off your make up and getting ready for bed. You just got home from a long and exhausting shift. Or were you really at the hospital?

"Yes, love?“ you enter the room and you see him looking at you. But something was strange. Why is he wearing his mask? And why is he looking at you like you killed someone?

"You’re Ashley?" his voice cold and you could hear the disappointment in his voice. Your smile quickly drops and you look at him completely baffled.

"How?" your voice low and you look down. How could this happen? You made sure that no one ever finds out your true identity. The only thing you let the world know is that your name is Ashley, which is not true, and that you’re fighting for justice, since the government is failing so many women and children. The person who is sending you all these details is your best friend. König likes her because he knows that she is a good influence and you grew up together. But you’re not gonna expose her. Your eyes land on your phone and you don’t know how to feel. Mad because he was on your phone. Or scared that König might tell on you now.

"I can explain" you tell him and he doesn’t break the gaze. You take a step forward but he takes one back. You stop at his reaction and you could swear you felt your heart drop.

"König. I swear I don’t kill innocent people. Only rapists and child abusers. And only then when the government is not doing anything. These women and children are scared and don’t dare to go out because they never know when they might get killed. I swear to you." you desperately explain and your body needs a reaction from him, but he doesn’t react at all. He looks to the side and you wish you could see how he feels now. But he decided to cover his face again, making it hard for you to know how he feels right now.

"Ashley, huh?" his voice is harsh. You don’t dare looking at him. The weight of disappointment settles upon you soul like a leaden cloak, suffocating and heavy, the jagged edges of their expectations carving deep grooves of remorse through the tender fabric of one's self-worth, leaving behind a bitter residue that stains the heart's delicate tapestry for eternity. It is a hollow ache, an echoing chasm where warmth once resided, as the realization of your inadequacy seeps through the cracks of shattered trust, forever haunting the corridors of the conscience with its haunting refrain of missed opportunities and shattered dreams.

“Leave, please" his frigid and callous voice erupted like an icy tempest, each word crystallizing into shards of anguish that pierced the very depths of your soul, leaving behind a lingering ache that whispered of betrayal and shattered trust. You look at him and you can feel the tears build up in the corner of your eyes. Please, no…

“Y/N. Please. I just need time to think” for a second, you hesitate. You don’t want to leave. You both know that what you’re doing is a good thing. Making Women and Children feel safe. But he can’t think straight right now. And you respect that. So without saying anything, you leave, hoping for him to call you as soon as possible. Because your heart can’t stay away from him.

Simon Riley

"Job is done. Payment should follow like usual. Don’t call me unless I call you." you whisper-tell you secret boss. Simon doesn’t know anything about your secret life. You were working as a secret assassin whenever Simon was deployed and when he was at home, you were a nurse.

As you turned around, you saw Simon leaning against the doorframe, looking at you like you were his enemy. At this sight, your heart dropped.

"Simon." you innocently spoke and hid your phone in your back. You smile at him and look at his cold and stony eyes. You felt your heart beat faster and you hope that he didn’t hear you talking about the mission.

"Where were you?" his voice deep and harsh, causing you to jump, since you’re not known to this side of Simon. He would never talk to you like that. He promised himself to be better for you. You gave him nothing but love and comfort so he promised you to be better than ever.

"At the hospital" after these words leave your lips, he starts laughing and shaking his head.

"stop lying" he suddenly yells at you. You take a step back and drop your phone, letting it crack against the cold and hard floor of your shared bedroom. "Where. Were. You. I saw you leave a house. Who was it?" he takes a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you and him.

"Simon. It’s not what you think about." you barely whisper and he lets out a deep chuckle. "Then what is is?" he softly grabs your face with one hand. He usually did this when you weren’t holding eye contact. And now you don’t know how to react. You are already exposed, so you can also just tell him what you did. But if you do, you need to leave tonight. The chances of him calling the cops is too high. Especially when he finds out you’re one of the most wanted female serial killer.

"I killed someone. Someone not innocent. Will Ricksen. He raped his wife and got away with it because he owns a company in the US. The wife got in contact with us because she got threatened by him and she doesn’t want to live with fear anymore. I didn’t cheat on you. I could never. I only kill child abusers and rapists that get away with it. I swear to you, I would never kill someone who is innocent." you close your eyes, afraid to look at him. You were waiting for him to yell at you, scream and tell you how much he is disappointed in you. You were waiting for him to do anything that would break you down, but it never happened. Instead, you felt his rough hands patt the top of your head. And then, the unexpected happens.

Simon pulls you in tight hug and kisses the back if your head. This reaction of him left you confused and baffled. You hesitantly hug him back and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

"Don’t get caught." his voice was trembling and it felt like the inner child in him just spoke. You knew about his traumatic past and you understand his feelings. If you had the chance to kill his father, you would. When he told you his story, you cried. You hugged him so tightly, you were afraid to let go of him.

He didn’t let you go and he reassured you that he won’t tell anyone.

John MacTavish

”The fuck you mean?” you hear your boyfriends voice yell from behind you. You turn around and look at him and quickly end the call. You hope that he wasn’t talking to you but his facial expression and gesture are telling you otherwise.

“What do you mean Josh is dead? Why did this person called you Angela?“ his voice filled with anger, confusion and sadness. His face looks nothing like his usual one. Once, his countenance was a sanctuary of warmth and solace, a sanctuary where his eyes danced with affection and his lips bloomed with a sweet smile that embraced my every arrival. But now, that tender refuge has crumbled into a barren wasteland, where his gaze sears with icy disdain, casting shadows that echo a painful question: "How can I fix this? How do I tell him?"

“Johnny. Please let me explain…" you desperately beg him to let you explain what exactly is going on but it looks like that he has heard enough.

"Don’t call me Johnny. I loved you, Y/N. And now you’re lying to me? You’re a murderer? What exactly do you expect me to say? Oh yeah it’s okay it’s totally not quite the opposite of my Job. Funny, the guy that protects people is dating someone that harms them?" his frustration got the best of him and he doesn’t care if he is hurting you right now. He feels betrayed and hurt. And he wants you to feel the same things. You don’t mind. If your positions were swapped, you would have reacted the same way. But you wish he would let you explain now.

“John. Please. Let me explain. I‘m begg-" you were cut off by him smashing the class on the kitchen table against the wall next to him. You flinch and you feel your heart beat faster than usual. You could feel yourself getting pale.

“Why? I don’t get it. I don’t want to see you.” his cold voice spoke and you felt your heart stop beating. No.

"John, please" you took steps towards him, trying to fight for him, trying to show him that you’re not a bad guy.

"Stop." his harsh voice yelled at you and you stopped right where you are. "Don’t. I love you. But I need some time now. I won’t tell anyone. Just- leave me alone now" without looking back, he smashed the door behind him, making you flinch and leaving you there, heartbroken and angry at yourself. You don’t regret anything. You only regret letting him find it out like that.

John Price

In the dimly lit living room, tension crackled like static electricity between John Price and you, as the weight of unspoken grievances strained the fragile threads of your relationship. The air grew heavy with unspoken words, suffocating the room as your gazes clashed like opposing storms, each thunderous stare hinting at the brewing tempest within.

"John. I swear I‘m not betraying you. Give me a chance to explain! PLEASE! I swear on everything that is important to me, it’s not what you think" you beg him to let you explain your situation. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. He wasn’t supposed to know at all. Why couldn’t you talk a little quieter? Why did you even answer the phone, knowing John was at home.

"Shut up! Stop talking!" with a voice tinged with restrained anger, John's steely gaze bore into you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of disappointment and frustration. It was as if the unspoken accusations hung like a heavy fog in the room, obscuring the truth and suffocating any chance for reconciliation.

As the argument escalated, voices rose, echoing off the walls like distant thunder, their words slicing through the air like sharpened blades. Frustration mingled with regret, staining the once sturdy foundation of trust that had held your relationship together. The silence that followed was deafening, a void filled with unanswered questions and shattered hopes.

"I‘m leaving" with a pained expression etched on his face, John turned away abruptly, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he left you behind, adrift in a sea of unanswered emotions. The weight of his absence settled heavily upon you, the room now filled with a haunting emptiness, leaving you yearning to fill the void and desperately longing for a chance to explain, to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

But for now, all that remained was the echo of an unfinished argument, the lingering ache of shattered camaraderie, and the unanswered plea to understand what had gone so horribly wrong.

You wish he let you explain.

Kyle Garrick

As the sun cast its warm glow upon the bustling city streets, you found yourself standing face-to-face with Kyle, a knot of tension coiling in your chest. Emotions simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill over as the air crackled with the impending storm of their argument.

"You, Kyle…" you began, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and hurt, "cannot simply just not give me a chance to explain and expect me to accept it without question. You always let me explain. What’s happened now?"

Kyle's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mixture of defiance and weariness. "You being a serial killer" he sighed, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation, "I- You‘re the complete opposite of me and god I don’t know what to say. You kill people? What if they find out? You could get into Jail."

"But Kyle," you pleaded, a note of desperation creeping into your voice, "I just want to understand that I need a chance to explain."

Silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words pressing upon them both. Kyle's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and vulnerability.

"Y/N" he murmured, his voice gentle yet laden with uncertainty, "I need some space. I need time to think, to sort through everything. I have to figure things out on my own."

A lump formed in your throat as the weight of his words settled upon you. The reality of the situation washed over you like a cold wave, leaving you feeling adrift and uncertain. Nodding slowly, you whispered, "Kyle- I understand. Take the time you need. Just... promise me you'll come back."

He didn’t even look at you before he responded "Stop" he said, his voice filled with some kind of sadness and disbelief "Just give me a little time."

With those words, a bittersweet ache settled in your heart, as you watched Kyle retreat into the distance, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the hope that, in time, you would find your way back to each other again.

You wished he never found out. But you don’t regret any single thing.

Alejandro

The dusty wind whispered through the corridors of the hidden military base, carrying tension on its ethereal tendrils as Alejandro and you found yourselves embroiled in a heated argument. Snd this only because he went through your phone, for an unknown reason, and he found the photos of the people that got away with Rape. But he didn’t know who they were, so he thought you were hurting innocent people, which you could never do.

"I ONLY HURT PEOPLE WHO HURT PEOPLE" Your voice clashed, words laden with frustration and hurt. The walls trembled with the intensity of the exchange, the air thick with unspoken fears and unmet expectations. Alejandro's piercing gaze met yours, his jaw clenched with a mix of anger and concern. "Mi Amora" he growled, "your job is at the hospital. And now you‘re a serial killer and…"

But defiance burned in your eyes as you stood your ground, your voice trembling with determination. "This is what I do, Alejandro. I protect these people, just like you do. I can't sit idly by while others suffer. It's in my blood. And I will continue protecting these women and children who cry for help!"

Silence settled between you, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Alejandro's shoulders sagged, and his gaze softened, shimmering with unshed tears. "You're right," he conceded, his voice filled with both admiration and fear. "You're brave, stronger than anyone I know. I'm proud of you for fighting for what you believe in, for protecting those who can't protect themselves."

The words hung in the air, bridging the gap between you. Emotion washed over both of you, dissolving the anger and replacing it with a newfound understanding. Alejandro pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms a shield against the uncertainties of your chosen path.

[oddball08]

Metal Chairs and Glass Windows | Konig

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were both found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. Some things can't be erased, no matter what you do. This is extremely violent and disgusting and full of angst. I mean there is some truly disgusting torture in this. I recommend that viewers are +18. If you are triggered easily, please leave. Ultimately, I can't control your actions but know that I've warned you and cannot be held accountable if you choose to read this.

WARNING R@pe, murder, torture, Su!cide, just some really triggering stuff WARNING

Dimly lit damp hallways seemingly stretched on forever as two bodies were dragged from a heavily secured truck and into the building, descending steps covered in mold and mildew. Neither responded as their gear dragged and scraped across the floor, weapons slowly being discarded and thrown on the ground for someone to later pick up. 

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. 

König slowly woke up after an unknown amount of time, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he stayed still, knowing he was in danger due to the new settings and cuffs tied tightly around his wrists and ankles– in a different circumstance he would deem this kinky and laugh it off– but this time was different. 

He could feel the presence in the room with him, ominously waiting for him to make a move, knowing that the deadly man was currently defenseless. König knew a few things were very wrong, first off being that this was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, just to make sure that a camp they had already taken down was empty. It seemed as though it was in fact not empty; second being he had no idea where they were. His partner, his friend, his longtime comrade who was so close to being discharged. Just two more weeks. They weren’t even supposed to be going on this mission, but agreed on the terms that it would be the last mission they did with him. 

Everything suddenly got so messed up, they were doing fine, walking along the dirt path, almost finished with their round when König’s partner had screamed at them to get down as bullets flew, everything went black, then he was in a chair. 

Anxiety coursed through König, tensing his muscles as he tried to keep his body slack and breathing even. He had years of military training backing him up, so did his partner, they would be okay. He had to hope that they were okay. 

"Welcome back,” The presence circled around König until he was in front of him, revealing a tall man head to toe in black, weapons strapped to him, many more in places he couldn’t see König knew. “I’m glad to see you woke up. I thought for a while my guys had messed up and gave you the wrong dosage.” He smiled at the words, and it made something disgusting curl up into König’s stomach, curling around his lungs and squeezing them just tight enough for him to know it was a looming panic attack.

“Where am I?” König’s nostrils flared as he looked up, finally meeting the eyes of his capture; heart clenching more at the sight of the mask they usually wear laying on his face, the bottom half broken, and blood smeared across the rough cracks. “Where are they.”

“You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that do you? Although, I will say that your little friend is in the room across the hall. You’ll be joining them soon, don't you worry. ” The words didn’t feel reassuring.

“I brought you here for a very specific reason, mostly because I’m a petty bitch, but also because your organization fucked up my entire plan. Millions would be gone; I would have won . Instead, your team had to come and fuck everything up. Kill us, steal from us. We plan to take it back tenfold.”

He pauses as a loud bang is heard, echoing through the room as the light flickers a few times. When the man looks back at König, his smile is more tense than it was before, and König feels a brief flicker of hope before the screaming starts.

He knows those screams; he had heard those screams only two times before. Once when his partner had been holding the new recruit, dead in their arms, only eighteen. And the second when they had been shot in the shoulder, shattering their shoulder blade.

König’s blood runs cold, adrenaline rushing through his veins as a thin veil of sweat covers his skin, making the fabric of his mask stuffy. 

“It seems my comrade decided to start without me. Pity really.” The man goes behind König once more, scraping something metal against the cement floor and raises it above his head. “Night night.” 

König awakes once more with a start, blistering pain pounding in his head as a migraine begins to form. “Welcome back sleeping beauty.” The man's voice is cheerful, and he now has a bottle of beer in his hand as he relaxes back against the chair he’s sitting in. “Woke up right in time for the show.” He grins maliciously and points his beer forwards to gesture for König to look over at the glass window they were sitting in front of.

König’s breath caught and the pain in his chest came back at the sight of his partner sitting naked on the metal chair, legs spread as liquid slowly dripped down their somewhat murky legs and the twisted legs of the chair.

Their face was knocked back as they laid unconscious, blood slowly oozing out of their calf half, mixing with the milky substance and pooling around the metal of the cuffs on their ankles and down onto the cement floor.

König felt like vomiting, disgusted at the sight. Who would do this to someone? Had they been awake for it all? 

Another man stepped into the room, grinning over at the glass as he made a circle with his hands, rutting his hips forward towards the glass to indicate what he was about it do. 

“No!” König yelled, louder than he’s ever remembered yelling as he began fighting against the cuffs on the chair, just noticing the rope tied around his waist, securing him from moving too much.

“Scream as loud as you want,” The man sitting next to him said, having waited until König had stopped his screaming to speak, lifting the beer to take a swig of it. “They can’t hear ya’.”

König really thought he was going to vomit this time as the man in the room unbuckled his jeans, letting them fall to the ground before he turned the chair sideways; giving the two men outside of the room the perfect side profile of the events that were about to occur. The man slapped his partner's cheek a few times before shrugging and simply shoving two fingers inside their mouth, swirling it around before holding it open and shoving his cock in, groaning at the feeling as he knocked his head back. 

He wasted no time in quickly thrusting, chasing his own high, not caring whether or not they woke up to find their mouth being molested. It’s a few more minutes of König painfully watching as his partner is degraded, completely unaware of it all as they’re dead to the world, chair creaking as the man speeds up before gripping onto his partner's hair tightly, tugging as he stops his hips. He pulls out, looking down at them with a sneer before spitting in their mouth, shoving their head down as much as it would allow to let the cum and spit drop out, preventing them from choking. 

The man pulls up his pants before turning to the window, giving a mocking bow, “Left ‘em alive, as you asked, Sir.” The statement is more condescending than anything as he exits the room, leaving behind König’s partner, head lulled forward as liquid drips down their chin and onto their bare chest. 

“Wasn’t that a good show?” The man sitting next to König slaps his hand onto his knee, giving a cheer for the disgusting events that just occurred.

“You’re sick ,” König growls, fists clenching so hard against the chair he was in that he could feel his short fingernails begin to break.

“Ah uh,” The man puts a finger up and tsk’s, “Not sick, purely angry. Revenge is rather sweet, wouldn't you say?” 

“I don’t sugar.” König counters, and the man simply smiles gleefully at the remark.

“And I have a sweet tooth, crazy that. Now watch the rest of the show.” 

Another man enters this time, different from the last. He smiles up at the window, giving a salute. He turns around and pulls out a rolling table with needles on it and sends a quick smile towards the mirror once more before putting on silicone medical gloves. He grabs a syringe, tapping it a few times before placing it onto König’s partner's arm, distributing it quickly before grabbing another one. 

“Flumazenil and Naloxone,” The man next to König confirms, “Man's best friend let me tell ya’.”

The man takes off his gloves and puts the table back into the corner of the room where he had grabbed it from and left the room. Leaving a tense silence, anguish resting in the air as the seconds ticked by. 

Eventually, König could see their body twitch on the other side of the window, then slowly their head lifted up to reveal tear filled eyes. “Fuck.” The swore, spitting onto the ground before knocking their head back against the back of the metal chair, seemingly not caring about the loud bang emanating from it. 

Their chest began to heave as a woman entered the room this time, a mask covering the bottom half of her face. She stood tall and regal, afro pulled up into perfection, making her look innocent if it weren’t for the knife she held in her hand. 

“Ello las,” She greeted in a low Scottish drawl, smiling as she made her way over to her target. “‘Ow ‘ave the boys been treatin’ ya’?” She looked down at their still open legs and tsk’ed, slowly circling them with the dull side of the knife to their neck. König could see the anxiety in their eyes as they tried to breath as shallowly as possible, knowing it was the dull side of the knife but still not wanting to be cut by the woman in front of them.

A small trail of blood begins trailing down their collarbone as the woman cuts, before sliding back to look at her work. “Real beauty, shame to see it go ta’ waste. Might just carve ma’ name into ya’. You’d like that, yeah?” 

König clenches his teeth at the sound of their whispers, desperate pleas to please stop leaving their mouth like a prayer. The woman smiles at this and cups their cheek, wiping away the tears that were now openly falling down their cheeks. 

“Don’t cry love, only gonna hurt a lil’.” She smiles a twisted smile before getting on her knees, going in between their legs to scoot as close to them as possible, making a quick Knick at the bottom of their chest, center of the ribcage, and one at the lower stomach, right above the faint happy trail. 

König sees them hiss out at the feeling before they open their mouth in a silent scream as her knife cuts, about a centimeter if König had to guess, a long line drawn out diagonally, “K,” She holds the letter as she continues to drag the other two lines across before pulling back slightly and laughing at the sight. 

She continues on slowly, singing each letter she carves until a full name is spelled. Seven letters in total, over twenty minutes of excruciating pain before the woman pulls back, standing back onto her heels. Kendall.

“Beautiful.” She drags a finger across their stomach, digging a nail in a little before bringing it up to the light, looking pleased at the blood coating her finger. “Aye boss? Mind if I do somethin’ real quick?” 

“Sure,” The man sitting next to König nods, and the woman smiles, rocking onto her heels, “Just don’t kill them.” 

She shrugs, a playful smile on her face. “It probably won’t. ‘Least not for a while.” 

König’s partner has gone back to sobbing, eyes squeezed shut as their legs shake, whimpers leaving their mouth every few seconds as the knife slowly trails up their legs. 

They don’t have any idea what’s going on, so far gone at this point to comprehend anything behind the pain, but they know it's bad. 

The woman plunges the small knife up the hole between the crevice of their thighs, her manic laughing mixing with their screams of anguish, voice breaking as they squeeze their eyes shut and nod their head back and forth, legs violently shaking. 

König squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could block the noise out as he turns his head to the side, not willing to see his partner in such pain. The man sitting next to him grips his chin roughly, jerking it back so Konig is face right towards the window. “Open your eyes now or I order her to kill them.” The man whispers into König’s ear, making the male's eyes fly open. 

Years of military training couldn’t prepare him for the pain of seeing this, his mental walls tumbling down as the first tear broke the dam for the rest to fall down, not making a sound as his partner continued to scream, screaming at the woman in front of then to stop, begging for mercy. 

She stands, ripping the knife out of their hole and placing a quick, mocking kiss to their cheek before skipping out of the room, appearing at the doorway next to the room König and the man were currently sitting in, a smile still plastered on her face. “So, he’s the lucky one, aye?” 

“Indeed.” The man next to him nods, standing from his spot with a groan, stretching his hands above his head. “Seems to have messed him up. Hasn’t talked shit in a good hour or so.” He jerked his head over to where König sat staring blankly at his partner, who was currently still sobbing, whole body shaking, thankfully their crying was beginning to quiet. 

“Imma go in with her next, watch him, ‘kay?” The man doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs the gun from the table next to where König sat. König hadn’t even noticed that was there, to preoccupied with watching his partner endure the endless torture that they had not been prepared for in training. 

The woman glanced over König, scanning his form before taking a few quick strides over to him and plopping herself onto his lap. “That was one, innit?” She places her head on König’s shoulder, ripping the mask off his face. König feels bare without it, the thought of someone seeing him without it on would normally send his nerves through the roof, but all he could do at the moment was blankly stare at where is partner now sat silently in the chair, chest rising shallowly their head dropped down to their chest.

“Ya’ a pretty one, aren’t ya’?” She runs a finger down his cheek, “Wonder what I could do with ya’ before ‘e finishes with ‘er.” König closes his eyes as he sees the man who had been sitting next to him for hours enter the room, malice in his eyes with a cheerful look on his face.

“How are you faring?” The man asks, using the gun to tilt their head up. “This is what you get for stealing.” 

“I didn’t take anything.” They whimper, “I’m not a thief.” 

The man's face curls up in disgust as he raises the gun, shooting their shoulder with no hesitation. The same shoulder König remembers them screaming about before. 

They don’t scream this time.

An unknown amount of time later, König sat slack against the chair, eyes blinking slowly as the woman giggled maniacally on his lap, his pants pulled back to his knees as he stared at his partner, eyes glazed over as he looked over the two new shots, a large pile of blood pooling on the ground.

They weren’t making any noises this time outside of small whimpers, barely lifting their head up to breath anymore.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” König recognizes Price’s voice yell into the room, his unit trailing in behind him before he gestures to Ghost and Soap to handle the woman and König while he and a few others deal with the man in the room, currently oblivious to what was happening. 

“Oh no,” The woman pouts, “I guess our time is over then, huh?” She lifts her hands up, and Soap promptly slaps the knife out of the woman's hands, cuffing her as Ghost pats König’s cheek harshly. 

“König,” He says, and the sound echoes within König’s ears. “König, pay attention to me. Are you hurt?” König thinks he manages to shake his head, because Ghost’s eyes shine with worry as he lifts König’s large body up and carried him out of there. 

König winces as he’s met with a harsh light of a sunrise. 

A new day.

König can hear Price and Ghost’s hushed whispers from outside his hospital room, and he knows what happened. He knows they couldn’t have made it from the looks of how much blood they lost. 

He felt so fucking pathetic. If he had just listened to their warning sooner, noticed the sniper sooner, they wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Their whispers stop and Ghosts enters his room, silently clicking the door shut behind him. “How are you doing?” He questions. König doesn’t speak, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in the four days he’s been lying in this hospital bed. He’s so tired.

The nurses took away his TV remote when he had turned it up so loud it was blaring on the floors above and below him, hoping if he got it loud enough he would be able to block out the sounds of their screaming and her laughter. 

Ghost sighs, having expected König to be unresponsive. “They’re not dead…in surgery actually. We don’t know much as of yet. But I know that it’s going to be a long one. Longer than anyone you or I have had to endure.” 

König feels a tear fall. He hates himself for it, he hates that he's showing this much weakness. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be deadly. He was supposed to protect them. 

Ghost places a firm hand on König’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before exiting the room, his arm reaching up to hug around Soap’s shoulder, leaning his head to the side to give a slight reassuring bonk before he closes the door, blocking König out from the world once more.

“We gather here today to mourn the loss of a soldier, a friend, a family member, a partner. They were so much, fighting until the very end.” The old man says, the light shining down on his holy white robes seemed mocking to König, who stood at the back of the crowd, standing with Ghost on one side and Soap on the other. “They will be missed. Know that they have moved onto a better place, lifted higher above, and are no longer in pain.” He said a quick prayer before placing a white rose on the flag covered coffin. 

The others followed behind one by one, until König stood at the front of the line, looking directly into the photo of them smiling, the photo being only from a few months ago, arms over the shoulders of their closest friends. König’s own smile mocks him as he stares. 

Ghost gently urges him forward and König snaps his sight back onto the coffin, now covered in white roses. He clenches his jaw and swallows, willing the tears back.

It seemed to König that all he did nowadays was cry. People believed that he was so unstable that they made him go on mandatory leave. Ghost and Soap heading over with meals at least twice a week, forcing König to eat something and shower. 

Price was forcing him to go to therapy, stating he wouldn’t allow him back if he didn’t. König didn’t see why it would help, all his therapist did was yap the whole time while he stayed silent, counting down the minutes until the session was over. 

König placed the rose on top of their coffin, making their death somehow feel more final than it was before, despite knowing that he had watched the escalation of it happening right before his eyes. 

He turned away from the grave and walked away, not being able to bare the sight of the grave going down.

_______________________________________

Five months later he himself was brought down. The fresh gravestone with his name on it right next to theirs.

just wanted to point out if anyone comes at me for this being bland this was personally triggering for me while writing this so like shut up?

[gremlingottoosilly]

Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it. 

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support. 

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed. 

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me. 

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you? 

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable. 

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts. 

— Dismissed. 

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want. 

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem. 

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances. 

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect. 

— Sir? Is everything alright? 

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator. 

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t. 

— I thought you’d heard me the first time. 

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now? 

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away? 

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja? 

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you. 

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow. 

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable. 

— You forgot the milk. 

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk. 

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics. 

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty. 

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir. 

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here. 

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office. 

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise. 

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen. 

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay. 

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees. 

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already. 

— Ja. Bra is next. 

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger. 

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though. 

— Braves Mädchen…good girl. 

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target. 

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples. 

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window. 

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen? 

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you. 

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life. 

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation. 

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel? 

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language. 

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him. 

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest. 

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop. 

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide. 

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges. 

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat. 

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created. 

— How do you feel? 

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less. 

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles. 

— My pleasure, Schatzen. 

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain. 

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all. 

[worstghost]

STOP I literally love those two extremes of him!!! I started out with really really loving the soft!konig (I still do, esp soft!doms have my heart tbh) but then I discovered some very amazing stories on here which are very much on the darker side and I was like 😨👀, this better not awaken anything in me (plot twist: it did. Several of things🥴)

But whichever flavour it is, there has to be some serious pining, an underlying and intense feeling of possessiveness and that ride or die mentality. I think that even in his softest version, this man wouldn’t shy away from killing for you and feeling justified to do so because to him, you are the world and he will not let anything get in the way of you being his.

Okay you got me, let's talk about creepy obsessive König. I restarted this a hundred times because I couldn't decide how far to go with it hmmm. This is messy because I have too many thoughts to put here but I'll definitely be making a second post about it lol. I love weird pervy König so much tho

♡König walks you to your barracks room every night, telling you it's just polite, he's just being kind, and it's not like you know any better to argue. He's practically your shadow.

♡He loves to quietly slip into your room behind you before you can close the door and you decide you don't really mind it. The first time you were embarrassed to let him see so much of your personal space, but it happens so often now you're not too worried.

♡You tell him to make himself comfortable and he squeezes on to your dingy roller chair by the desk, ignoring the groans it makes under his weight.

♡He watches you go around the room, cleaning up and pretending like you're not always this messy. It's so cute to him. He sees your room even when you're not there, he knows what it looks like.

♡You apologize and tell him you need a shower badly, it was a busy day training with 141 and you're gross.

♡His knuckles dig in to the arm rests at the mention of your teammates, but he quickly recovers, shooing you away to the shower.

♡König loves being alone in your room, getting to dig through your things and drawers. Picking out bits and pieces from your dirty laundry. It's not creepy, as far as he's concerned you put your favorite pair of panties on top just for him.

♡He's sure that most of the things you do are for him actually. The shy smiles, the embarrassment when he catches you off guard. It's all just to make you more endearing to him, you're playing the same game he is.

♡And when you peek out of the attached bathroom in your towel and ask him to turn around so you can change, he does so. Subtly angling the cosmetic mirror on your desk to see behind him, watching to see what you pick to wear to bed that night.

♡Oh those are some small shorts. No underwear? You're just teasing him now.

♡You'll go and sit on the bed and comb your hair out, asking him about his day. How sweet of you.

♡He'll fidget with the panties in his pocket and tell you to go first, he wants to hear how your training went. Whether or not he needs to have a problem with your Lieutenant if he pushed you too far.

♡The conversation dwindles and he just watches you, eyes moving between your lips, your legs, seeing how you blush under his hungry stare. He can smell your shampoo, your sweet brown sugar body wash.

♡He likes it a lot really, but he loves when youre finishing a gym session or your nightly run and he gets to see you disheveled, sweating and huffing to catch your breath. It drives him crazy, gives him so much to think about at night.

♡He's just waiting for you to make the move. He knows he makes you squirm, makes you nervous and jittery. All he needs is for you to do something about it and then you're his.

♡Until then he's more than happy to be your kind and shy friend, the one you invite to your room every night, the one you don't question when things go missing. The one who makes sure no one else comes near you.

[darklordofthesimp]

Look I’m sorry I completely understand anons trying to put excuses to get to the ‘lovers’ part in the enemies to lovers, but if I was birdy, and this man completely destroyed my face forever, put me in a coma, took my job, gave me nightmares and ptsd, compromised my reputation, and fucked up my brain forever, I wouldn’t really give three shits if he was ordered to do that to me or not, I’d simply want him gone painfully. Maybe I’m just like that, but I agree totally with a slow SLOW building of the lovers part. Because even if it was not konigs fault, a normal person in the circumstances that birdy has been put through wouldn’t forgive him easily at all

Yesssss this is precisely why our little Bird is very very traumatised and very very much not in love with König at the moment.

There's a lot of us just spitballing ideas and doing some back and forth brain storming I wouldn't look too much into what's happening in the ask box my friend :)

I can say that this will be a slow burn. Unfortunately there's gotta be SOME give because I'm not writing a 50 chapter fic but it should all be realistic.

Also it's important to note that a normal person wouldn't ever forgive however a normal person also doesn't get shot or kill people on a near daily basis.

Birdy isn't normal, my friend.

[s-ndinmydreams-blog1]

→ headcanons.

→ camille’s backstory: moving to america. 

camille’s mother left when her and her brother were very young, and her father was incredibly abusive. he used to abuse their mother, and once she was gone, he started to abuse his children even more. since camille was a female and looked like her mother, reminding him of her mother, camille got the worst of the abuse until eventually her younger brother started stepping in to protect his sister which would make their father mad and make him focus his abuse on him.

camille and her brother had been making plans to get out of germany pretty much their entire teenage years, they seemed like pipe dreams, but they both knew they had to get out and get away. 

when camille was 17, she met an italian man from america who was backpacking with some friends and had stopped in germany to see the country. the man took a liking to her, because she was beautiful, young and blonde, and once the man went back to america they kept in touch. they continued talking for about six months until the man started suggesting that maybe camille could come to america to live with him once she turned 18. 

the man was a son of one of the men who was at the head of the mob in new york, and he was getting to the age where everyone expected him to get married. he wanted a wife who would let him do whatever he wanted, whether it was sleeping around or whatever else, and someone who wouldn’t rat him out for the criminal things he was doing. camille wanted a man she could marry for a green card and in turn she’d do pretty much anything the man wanted -- in this case keeping her mouth shut about what he was involved in. it was the perfect arrangement. 

when camille turned 18. the man bought her a plane ticket to america and camille came home one day and told her father that she was moving out. this made her dad freak out, he started to beat her up, which made her brother step in. her brother ended up hitting him in the head and killing him, and she helped him cover it up. 

her and her brother decided that she’d go to america and do whatever she needed to to either make or steal as much money as she could to get her brother to america too, or maybe even ask her husband and his family if they’d help her get her brother there once she got to know them and trust them. they decided if it was best that they didn’t tell anyone they might meet in the future that they were related.

camille went to america and they started planning a wedding. about a month and a half into the wedding planning, her fiance’s father, who camille had become incredibly close to found out that her fiance was betraying his family and the mob. he was sleeping with the daughter of some rivals and giving her information to tell her father about what his dad and the mob were up to. 

her fiance’s father wanted to keep camille in his life, but needed to get rid of his son. he made a deal with camille, he’d keep her in america and help her get a green card, but instead of her being his daughter in law, he’d tell everyone that she was his estranged daughter who grew up in germany and had just come to america to get to know her father. in return for him helping camille like this, she’d help him too, she’d work for him, doing whatever he needed her to, posing as whoever he needed her to to get information, or whatever came up. camille agreed. 

the first thing the man needed her to do was to kill her fiance, he’d help her cover it up, but he needed to get rid of him, and he needed camille to prove that she’d do whatever he wanted her to. camille killed the man, and his father covered it up.

now that camille had proven herself, she changed her name from what it previously was, rosanna konig, to camille rosanna arrington, and the man started to tell everyone that he was her daughter. camille posed as his daughter, and as time went on, it really did seem like he was her father. he took care of her, gave her somewhere to live in a beautiful penthouse of an apartment building that he owned, he sent her on vacation all the time, sending her to hotels or apartments he owned in other cities, made sure she always had nice clothing to wear, and supported her as she tried to get her career started, even pulling some strings to get her jobs. 

camille had built up a pretty solid career for herself in the next four years, she was becoming pretty well known on social media, was modelling three days a week, and was doing small tv appearances every once in awhile. she got offered a job in new zealand as one of the main roles in a television show called the gold coast and decided to go and live there for awhile while she was working on the show. 

after filming a few seasons, camille moved back to america, deciding she’d go back to new zealand whenever she needed to film now that she had gotten used to filming and the new place. this time, she decided to move to los angeles. her “father” had a few hotels and apartment buildings there, and having camille there for when he had work to do that she could just do for him was a benefit, he let her move into the penthouse suite of one of the buildings he owned, and camille got used to living in california.

soon, the man asked her to pose as a stripper at a club in la to try and get close to the owner of the club who he thought might be running a drug business out of the back of the club. camille got a job as a stripper, learning how to dance and trying her best to get close to the owner which wasn’t hard, he loved camille’s attention and took an almost instant liking to her. 

camille and the owner of the club started spending time together, sleeping together, going out together, and he fell in love with her pretty quickly as men often did. it was strictly business to camille though and she didn’t have any real feelings for the man. she was finding out all sorts of information because he trusted her and loved her and told her all about what he was doing. after about 6 months of them seeing each other, he found out camille was sleeping with someone who worked for him in his gang, and he lost it. he started watching camille’s every mood, stalking her, he was obsessed, and whenever he saw camille doing something he didn’t like, he’d hurt her. 

about 2 years after camille started working at the club, camille found out she was pregnant. she wasn’t sure if it was the owner of the clubs baby, or if it was the other man who she was seeings. but either way, she needed to get out of los angeles so that the man couldn’t hurt her while she was pregnant. so she fled california to protect the baby, moving back to new york where she knew she had the protection of her “father” and his family.