I love how the most competitive man on the face of this planet, the SOREST of losers the outlands has ever seen- decided to tag along to the carnival party.
first of all, i just wanna say, the könig x reader you did for me (the one where they knew each other before) was fucking awesome dude, top notch shit right there. 10/10 amazing. thank you <3
second of all, i was hoping to request a part 2 for it! maybe one where reader decides to actually join KorTac so they don’t have to leave him again. the prompt that sparked this idea was "I don't wanna miss you again" and i just think it would be very nice very cute
as always, keep up the good work! you’re amazing!!! (ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!) -🏹
summary: a single chance encounter with somebody that you used to cherish just about changes everything.
tws: swearing, brief mentions of violence
part one: Maus
"Nein," he shook his head. "I'm going to take you home. You can't stay... I never stopped loving you, (y/n)."
"Fuck you."
"I will write," he promised. "I don't want to lose you again."
König was risking everything just to take you home; his job, his livelihood, his friends, even his life, just to make sure that you got back. He found your address through various, somewhat illegal, manners but didn't really care; his top priority was to make sure that you got home in a single piece.
The flight was dull, you kept spitting venomous words in his face and hissing curses against him, and although he had no idea why you suddenly hated him, König didn't say anything about it.
The car ride back to your home was worse, but it was slightly better when you, very reluctantly invited him inside; it was a nice house, König could never refuse sleeping in a proper bed, although he did go a little bit shy as he admitted that he didn't actually bring anything with him - expecting to leave you at the door and return when he was back from deployment.
KorTac would kick his ass if they found out he had escorted you right to your front door, let alone that he had accepted staying the night.
If there was anything that König didn't want, anything that made his stomach churn and bile rise up to his throat, it was the thought of losing you; the thought of ever being apart from you, separated, made him feel sick to his stomach and made his hands shake. He didn't want to be without you, not again. He would do anything to be there at your side, he would do anything if he could just remain with you.
Deep, deep down, he knew that you felt the same, but he also knew that, right now, you were in pain; you were lashing out, and he knew why. He was to blame, he was an idiot and a fool and had been for years, he was the one who had left.
But he wasn't stupid, he knew that something was going on when you came up to him in the middle of the night, weeping and sniffling before you got into the bed beside him; he went stiff when you held onto him tightly, and pressed your face against him.
Something was going on. König knew it, and you did, too.
He didn't wear his mask. He didn't need to when he was around you. He very rarely wore shirts, and tried not to notice the way that you looked at the scars that littered his body with little more than guilt; as if each knock and scrape, every gunshot wound and stab wound, that he had sustained since he enlisted was somehow your fault.
Like you failed to protect him. Like you might as well have done it all yourself; of course, König tried to reassure you how he could, but every time he tried to speak to you as a friend, you would push him away.
"Fuck you! Don't fucking act like nothing's changed, you fucking bastard cunt!"
König never flinched. You could be shouting and bawling the house down, but he never so much as twitched; to him, it was a normal Tuesday. He could remember when the subject of your anger was bullies on the school grounds; whenever they so much as mildly taunted him, you were there, running to his defence every single time.
He had no reason to think of your little outbursts as anything other than you needing to express yourself, and he could live with that. If you wanted to shout, he could listen to you shout for hours. He just wished that you would stop pushing him away.
But it wasn't that simple, those things never were, as although you would have given anything and everything to have him back in your life, although you would have begged and pleaded and even tried bribery and blackmail in order to get into KorTac's ranks to be at his side again, you were still hurt; you had let him down, you had been his enemy, he had reminded you of times that you no longer thought of.
Secondary school, the realisation that you had loved him. When he sang 'The Last Stand' by Sabaton the first time he kissed you and told you that he loved you romantically.
You knew that he would never be permanently back in your life, you needed to push him away before you could even think of hurting him the way that he had hurt you when he first left; you didn't want him to feel that ache, to feel the bile rise in his throat whenever your name came to mind, you didn't want him to miss you if you were gone.
You wanted to save him, save him the pain and the agony and the grief and everything else; you didn't want him to get hurt because of you, you didn't think you could live with yourself if he did. It was best to push him away. Things would be better off if you pushed him away, you knew that, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he did, too.
Except, you couldn't deny that you did like having him around; when one night suddenly became one week, and one week suddenly became one month... you couldn't deny that you liked having him around. König reminded you of a time long gone, a time when you could get away with pinning cunts to the ground and breaking their jaws without worrying about getting court martialled; a simpler time, a better time... and maybe... maybe you did still love him.
Maybe you did still love him romantically, and maybe you didn't want to push him away so much anymore, even though you knew it was for the best and you kept telling yourself that you didn't want him to get inside your head and that you weren't thinking straight, you weren't being logical or rational; you were being a fool for wanting something, someone, you could never have again. You missed your chance years ago, why get another one?
"Mein Bärchen," König cleared his throat as he ducked enough to get through the doorframe, a yawn coming from the back of his throat as he pinned you to the side with his tired gaze. "You should be asleep."
You shook your head, puffing on your cigarette as you grumbled softly and bit back the yawn he had infected you with. "There's just a lot in my head right now, Maus."
"Wie was?"
You didn't want to say it, but the way that he was looking at you and your own exhaustion was chipping you away and breaking you down, so you sighed, putting your cigarette in the ashtray as you dared to shrug, taking a deep breath. "What if I transferred to KorTac?"
König fell silent for a moment as he thought about it, but then he smiled, raising his brows as he looked so fucking hopeful, so fucking joyful at the mere suggestion of such a thing. "Really?"
You nodded slowly. "Yeah... at least then, we'd still be together, right? And maybe... maybe we could start off where we left off?"
He grinned, swallowing thickly as he tried to hide his excitement. "You'd do that?"
"Yeah," your voice got a little quieter. "Yeah, I... fuck, König, I don't wanna miss you again... I don't wanna hurt you by making you miss me, either."
"Du bist mein Lieblingsbär," he chuckled softly. "Ich... nein. (y/n), if you joined KorTac... we would never be apart."
"That's the point," you told him. "Ich lie- meine Maus, I'll give my guys my two weeks notice tomorrow, and put in a request for a transfer to KorTac... ja? Klang gut?"
"Ja," he beamed. "Aber... come back to bed, bitte? Come back to me?"
if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.
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