watching tradwife 5 billion kids families and pretending the barefoot pregnant mom is könig while i work in the USSR mines to provide gluten free sugar free high frequency seed bread and raw christian milk for his crunchy mom meals
I headcanon König having resting puppy eyes and generally "soft" features (that don't match his personality at all) which he's insecure of, but can't really do anything about it besides wearing a mask. He doesn't strike me as a person that would hide injuries under the mask, I think he'd be proud of them. But maybe I'll add a scar or two in the future, idk.
Summary: Slowly, she lifted his hood until his mouth was revealed. It was easier to see the reddish stubble up close, as well as the tattoos on his neck. In the hollow of his throat sat a realistic floating eye, clearly part of a tattoo that was covered by his shirt. She was tempted to trace it with her fingers, to follow the lines of ink lower and lower…
Word Count: 5339
Warnings: harassment, smut, mentions of past domestic/sexual abuse, mentions of past forced prostitution, *** means POV switch, and -*- means timeskip but no POV switch.
Notes: Finally, a Mutter update! The beautiful art I had commissioned for this fic really inspired me <3 If you haven't seen it, you can find it linked on my masterlist under the Konig section! I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
AO3, Masterlist
True to his word, the next morning, Lelia was allowed to leave König’s quarters for the first time since she entered them—well, except for her brief trip to the infirmary that first week, but since she had been unconscious for most of it, she didn't think it really counted.
“Do not look at anyone, and do not speak to anyone unless I tell you they are safe,” he instructed her seriously as she fiddled nervously with the bow at the collar of her dress—the one König had gotten dry cleaned for her. “Do not leave my side, not even for a second. Do you understand?”
She nodded obediently, and didn’t protest when König wrapped one of his massive arms around her waist, holding her close. She knew that he needed to assert his claim on her somehow, since he hadn’t marked her. She would seem like easy prey for any Alphas they came across, and König’s presence would be the only way to deter them.
He opened the door, and Lelia hesitated at the threshold before taking a step outside. The air was colder in the hallway, and far more sterile. New, fresh scents greeted her, though none were as strong—or as appealing—as König’s. She took a deep breath in anyway, feeling a bit revitalized by the much needed variety.
As they walked, Lelia looked at everything around her with wide, curious eyes. She had only seen a very small part of the base before, and most of the corridors they went down were new to her. When they passed a training room, she couldn’t help but stare at all the people and strange equipment inside.
“I should have taken you out sooner,” König said quietly. Lelia looked up at him, and though she couldn’t see his expression beneath his hood, she got the distinct impression he was ashamed. “I have kept you locked away… it was not my intention. But I have done it all the same. I am sorry.”
König apologized a lot, she noticed. Almost as much as she did. If not for his size, and his scent, she might have thought he was an omega because of that habit.
“It's okay,” she replied, voice small and timid as always. “I know you didn’t want me. I wouldn’t expect you to take time out of your busy schedule to play babysitter everyday. I’m sure you have far better things to do.”
The tension in König’s body alerted her to his displeasure at her words, but he didn’t answer, so she was left not knowing what she’d said wrong.
He was so confusing.
They reached the mess hall soon enough, and Lelia clung to König tightly as she was nearly knocked over by the mass of new scents—many of which were intensely Alpha. His arm tightened around her in response, and he glared at the people that turned to look at them, her own sweet omega scent—vanilla, peonies, and rose jam—dancing in the air like petals and sweeping slowly through the room, alluring as a siren’s call.
Nobody approached as König led her to get their food. He filled his tray as her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt like she was a lost child clinging to her father. Had he truly been Lelia’s father, she would have gotten yelled at for wrinkling his suit.
König didn’t yell at her, though. He gave her a nod of approval instead and proceeded to load her tray with her favorite foods—and she was embarrassed to realize he’d been paying attention to what she did and didn’t eat when he skipped over the mushrooms for an extra scoop of carrots instead—before guiding her to an empty table. His thick, muscular arm resumed its place around her waist as they settled in to eat, only for him to pause when he realized he needed a second hand to lift his mask. She could see the hesitation in his eyes, and then the resignation as he lowered his fork.
“I can do it,” she said softly, and then raised her hand to touch the bottom of his hood. He twitched, letting his fork clatter to the table to grab her wrist. She had expected that, though. He was very particular about keeping his face covered. She thought it was strange, but everything about him was strange. “I can hold it up for you while you eat, if you want. I promise I won't peek.”
König’s eyes were unusually intense as they stared into hers, so much so that she started to regret offering. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he nodded, slowly letting go of her wrist, but not yet picking up his fork. He just watched her, and she felt a bit like a bug under a microscope.
Slowly, she lifted his hood until his mouth was revealed. It was easier to see the reddish stubble up close, as well as the tattoos on his neck. In the hollow of his throat sat a realistic floating eye, clearly part of a tattoo that was covered by his shirt. She was tempted to trace it with her fingers, to follow the lines of ink lower and lower…
König’s thick fingers dug into her waist as he inhaled deeply and let out a low growl. She blushed as she realized how her scent had sweetened with a hint of arousal, and she looked away but didn't drop his mask, trying to reign it in. The last thing she needed was to drive the Alphas in the mess hall into a frenzy.
She felt König’s heavy gaze on her as she began to eat, but once she got her scent under control—though not before the people at the tables nearest to them turned to look at her—he looked back at his own food and picked up his fork, digging in.
His hand bumped against hers a few times before she figured out how to best hold his hood out of the way. A little bit of mashed potatoes ended up on her fingers, and König leaned in as if he was going to lick it off, before pausing and picking up a napkin instead.
Lelia wasn’t entirely surprised to find herself disappointed. That aching emptiness in her core was still there, as was her omega, crooning in her ear about König being a suitable mate. She supposed that he was. He was certainly far kinder and much more capable of protecting her than either Andrew or Christoph—but neither Lelia nor König wanted a mate. Or at least he didn’t want her as his mate, not when it was the program that had selected her for him. She wondered if he would have wanted her had they met under different circumstances…
The scars on her neck were answer enough. No one would ever want her again.
And that was just as well, she reminded herself. She didn't want them either—but apparently, that didn’t mean she wanted to be celibate for the rest of her life. Crass as it was, her body craved cock. And König’s seemed so large, from the glimpses she caught of the bulge in his trousers. Certainly, it would make the terrible emptiness go away…
“Schatz,” König said, voice low and strained. Lelia snapped to attention, and blushed again when she realized she had been staring off into space while daydreaming about König’s cock. Her scent was going wild once again, and she could feel the stares of half the room on her back. “Pick up your tray. We are leaving.”
Lelia quickly obeyed, putting his mask back into place before letting go and grabbing her tray with both hands. As König released his hold on her waist for just a second so she could stand up, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her, pulling her flush against a hard body. She squeaked in fear and would have dropped her tray if the hands didn’t move to cover her own, folding her fingers back around the metal.
“What have we here?” A deep voice with the same accent as König’s crooned, and Lelia whimpered as she felt the unknown man press his face against the crook of her neck, scenting her without her permission. She was frozen in place, eyes wide and terrified. She felt something warm and wet and rough press against her neck, and she shuddered when she realized it was the man’s tongue. He growled in satisfaction. “I love the smell of a scared omega, but the taste is even better…”
Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, König was there, pure fury turning his sad eyes icy.
“Let her go, Krueger,” he demanded, voice more menacing than she had ever heard it. His tray was forgotten on the table, his fingers clenched around the handle of a large blade, one she hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying. Where had he hidden it? “That is an order.”
“Yes, Colonel,” the Alpha—Krueger—sneered, his hands slowly dragging up her arms and across her shoulders before he finally let go. He was rubbing his scent all over her, making her smell like him. It was a repulsive mix of gun oil, leather, and something metallic. It only took her a moment to realize it was blood.
She cried out as König pulled her back towards him, sharp pin pricks of pain alighting on her scalp. When she looked back at Krueger—he was masked like König, though his hood was a dark green mesh with no eye holes—she saw several strands of her hair tangled between his fingers. König snarled fiercely, so loud she could feel the rumble of it in her chest.
“Apologies,” Krueger said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, he sounded delighted by her sounds of pain. Lelia’s eyes glazed over a little bit as memories of Andrew pushed their way to the forefront of her mind. He’d always enjoyed hurting her. “My glove got caught.”
He lifted his hand and admired the auburn strands in his grasp.
“Such pretty hair… tell me, Colonel, are those rejected mating bites on her neck yours?” She couldn’t see Krueger’s eyes, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze when it settled on her. “Do you need a new Alpha, little omega? I would be happy to step up…”
“If you do not cease speaking, I will kill you,” König promised, tone full of barely restrained rage. “I will hunt you down and hang you from your entrails, but not until I have flayed every inch of skin from your body. Do you understand, soldier?”
“Perfectly, Colonel,” Kruger said in a voice much too cheery for the threat König had just leveled at him. He didn’t say another word, but he pocketed the strands of her hair before he turned around and walked away without waiting to be dismissed.
König growled again, abandoning his tray as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up. She squeaked as her feet dangled nearly a half a metre from the floor, before he looped an arm under her knees, holding her close to his chest. The sharp, electric scent of anger rolled off of him in waves—but Lelia’s own fear had been replaced with arousal the second she was back in his arms.
She was used to strange men touching her, hurting her, making her feel afraid. What she wasn’t used to was being protected, and it left a much bigger impression than Krueger’s crass words and rough hands ever could. Besides, he’d barely done anything to her. Lelia had endured much worse.
König protected me. The thought echoed in her mind, filling her with awe. He had defended her, fought off another Alpha’s attempt to claim her, even though she knew he didn’t want her. It didn’t make sense, but Lelia was grateful nonetheless—and turned on. Her omega was like a horny fly buzzing in her ears, demanding attention.
A low rumble rang through König’s chest, and he glanced down at her, undoubtedly noticing the way the air around her grew sweet all over again. She blushed, looking away, and he picked up his pace, not bothering to put her down as he stalked out of the mess hall. She hid her face in his shoulder, allowing her to subtly breathe in his strong, earthy scent, even beneath the overwhelming ozone of his rage.
He carried her all the way back to his quarters, shifting her weight to one arm and plucking the tray from her hands with the other, dropping it on his desk so hard it rattled. He tossed her onto his bed, and Lelia’s breath caught in her throat as she spread her legs for him, like a good omega.
König loomed over her for a long moment, broad shoulders moving up and down as he panted, eyes dark. They roved over every inch of her form, lingering on her chest and core. Lelia laid still for his examination, a small puddle of slick cooling in her panties. Her heart was racing in her chest, cunt aching to be filled, omega whining and clawing inside her for an Alpha’s knot—for König’s knot—like she was in heat.
“Don’t move,” König ordered her, before turning on his heel as he made to flee into the washroom. Running away from her, again. Leaving her aching with need, again. Lelia let out a tiny growl of frustration, reaching out and grabbing his wrist tightly.
“No,” she whined. Her omega, needy and hurt from the constant rejections—and seeking reassurance after the events of earlier—pouted. She sniffled a little, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Stay?”
***
König stopped, looking down at the small hand gripping him. Lelia’s fingers could not even close all the way around his wrist, and he refused to wonder if it would be the same with his cock.
“Stay,” she repeated, grip tightening. “Al—K-König. Please…”
König’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded, slowly kneeling down next to the bed. But Lelia tugged lightly on his wrist, and then scooted over on the bed to make room for him. He swallowed nervously, perfectly aware that there was no hiding his renewed arousal, even beneath the anger.
“A-are you sure, Schatz?” He asked anyway, uncertain. She just tugged on his wrist again, still looking up at him with that doe-like gaze. He nodded a few times, psyching himself up before carefully sitting on the bed, keeping a respectable distance between them. Lelia let out a displeased noise, and he stiffened, about to get up again, but then she scooted closer, wiggling her way under his arm so that it was draped over her shoulders. She snaked a hand under his mask, lifting it up just a tad, and König—König let her, surprising even himself. She propped herself up on her knees so she could press her face against the side of his throat, and began to purr as she scented him properly for the first time.
König’s breath stuttered and he tightened his arm around her, unable to help himself as he pulled her into his lap, yanked his hood up over his nose, and shoved his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in deeply. She smelled as wonderful as always, floral and sweet and delicious—though it was tainted by the foul scent of Krueger. He rubbed his face against her throat, trying to replace the smell with his own. Her purr grew louder when his nose bumped against her scarred scent gland, but this time, he smelled no pain or fear. Only desire.
He ripped himself away from her throat before he did something unforgivably stupid, panting harshly. His pupils were blown, and he could see that Lelia’s were too, her eyes foggy, expression dazed. It was no wonder—the smell of his pheromones was heavy in the room, no doubt muddling her mind. He needed to control himself, for fuck’s sake.
He squeezed her hips lightly—when had his hands landed there?—and a little whimper fell from her parted pink lips, making his cock jump in his trousers like an overeager mutt. Based on the way Lelia twitched, she had felt it, and embarrassed, he quickly moved her off his lap, readjusting his mask. He cleared his throat loudly, cheeks hot, gaze fixed firmly on his feet.
“S-sorry,” he murmured, unable to look at her, scared he would see fear in her eyes. Scared he wouldn’t. He wanted her so badly, but he couldn’t have her. He needed to remember that. He needed to keep his distance.
Another whine escaped Lelia as her scent grew bitter, and he chanced a glance at her, seeing the dejected look on her face and immediately losing his resolve. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around her waist once more, and she sighed in relief, looping her own arms around his chest—or trying to, at least. They didn’t quite manage to reach all the way around.
König’s cock twitched again.
Lelia didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she just didn't care. He still reeked of arousal, after all—but so did she. And as she looked up at him through her lashes with those big brown eyes, dark from lust, he knew he would do anything she asked of him.
“Please,” she whispered, bottom lip trembling. “Need your knot.”
His restraint shattered like glass, and he gripped Lelia’s hips in both of his massive paws, lifting her up and over his lap to lay her down on his bunk. He ranged his body over her, caging her in and yanking off his shirt, nearly taking his mask with it. Then his hands were on her again, kneading her breasts over her dress as he shoved his nose into her scent gland, inhaling deeply. She whimpered again, but this time the sound was thick with desire, and he growled in response, sucking a hickey onto the pale skin of her throat. He wouldn't claim her. That wasn't what she’d asked for. But he would leave his mark on her in other ways. He would show all the Alphas that had dared to look at her today just who she belonged to. He would show that piece of shit Krueger who she belonged to, before König killed him for daring to lay a hand on his omega.
Not yours, he tried to remind himself, but it was futile, with Lelia so pliant and needy beneath him. He spared a brief thought to wonder if she was in preheat, but he wasn’t familiar enough with her baseline scent to tell. He knew he should stop this, should bring her to medical to get her levels checked, make sure she truly wanted this and wasn’t just giving into her instincts—but Konig was a bad, bad man, and the only thing that could stop him now was Lelia herself.
He lifted his head from her neck to kiss her properly, but his mask fell back down at the last second. Lelia let out a surprised sound as the fabric pressed against her mouth, and beneath it, Konig blushed. He was about to pull back and apologize, but Lelia stopped him, her lips parting and her pink tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip through the worn cotton, the tip teasing his piercings. He groaned, hips stuttering as he nearly came in his trousers right then and there.
“Schatz,” he gasped, hands fumbling with the bow at the front of her dress, trying to untie it. He needed to see her. He needed to feel every inch of her bare skin against his own. “Schatzi, you are— you are so perfect, bitte, please let me take this off—”
Lelia whined, grabbing his hands and pushing them away. For a second, he froze, thinking she was afraid, that she wanted him to stop—but all she did was squirm under him until she could roll onto her front. He coughed, embarrassed, when he saw a zipper going to the back of the dress. He’d been trying to take it off the wrong way.
With shaking hands, he grasped the tiny piece of metal in his big fingers, slowly unzipping it, wanting to savor the moment. He knew that once she was bare—once he was inside her—he wouldn’t be able to go slowly, not for long.
The pale skin of her back was smooth and unmarred, except for a beauty mark at the nape of her neck, endearingly heart-shaped. He pushed his mask up over his nose again and kissed it, making her gasp. His hands slid under the fabric as he curled over her, guiding it up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her underthings. He made quick work of those, barely keeping himself from tearing them off her small body. But when he went to flip her back over, wanting to see her face, she stopped him.
“W-wait, I— I want it like this,” she stuttered. “From behind. Is that— is that okay?”
König felt a mix of pride and disappointment. Pride that he’d made her feel comfortable enough with him to voice what she wanted, especially like this—and disappointment because he wanted something else. Something more intimate. Something he had never had with anyone else, but always craved.
“Ja,” he said roughly, the fantasy of him taking off his mask and suckling at Lelia’s breasts as he made love to her, kissing her soft, pink lips as he bred her full, died a painful death. But he wanted her so badly, he would take anything he could get. “I have to move you. This is okay?”
His hands slid over the curves of her body to land on her hips, and at her nod, he climbed off of her and the bunk before dropping onto his knees. She lifted her head, turning to look at him in confusion, but he just gripped her hips a little tighter and spun her to face the wall. She squeaked in alarm, clearly not having expected that, and he huffed a laugh as he spread her legs, finally getting a look at her perfect, dripping cunt.
The sight pulled a groan from deep in his chest, and he stared in awe at the glistening, auburn curls hiding her entrance from him. As Lelia shifted to get comfortable in the new position, he stroked a single, gentle finger over her slit, making her jump.
“You are very beautiful, Schatzi,” he murmured, eyes dark. “Every part of you.”
With that, he leaned forward, lifting his mask once again to press a sloppy kiss to her pussy. She let out a startled moan, encouraging him to tease the tip of his tongue through her folds. When he finally found her clit, he pressed down against it, grinning when Lelia cried out. He circled the little nub with the tip of his tongue, slipping one long, thick finger inside her at the same time. He felt her hands scrambling for something to grab onto, so he reached up and captured one of them with his own, stroking the pad of his thumb across her knuckles.
He licked her cunt until she was gasping and sobbing from her climax, clit throbbing against his tongue, cunt pulsing around his finger. Only then did he add another, curling both inside her to stroke that special spot that always had his partners begging him for more. Lelia was babbling incoherent pleas by the time he deemed her ready for a third, and her back arched as he slid it in, her hand squeezing his so tightly he was almost afraid she’d break it.
If she did, he decided that it was a worthwhile trade, getting to taste her.
Finally, after wringing another orgasm from her trembling, gasping body, he withdrew his fingers and got to his feet. The mournful whine she let out at the loss of his touch made his heart skip a beat, and he fumbled to undo his trousers with one shaking hand, the other petting the small of her back as he shushed her soothingly.
“Soon, Schatz. You will have my knot soon,” he promised her. But he was struggling with his fly, not having been so nervous about having sex with someone since his very first time. With a muffled curse and one more tug, he managed to get his zipper down. He didn’t even bother to remove his trousers completely, just shoved them down to mid thigh and tucked the waist band of his boxers under his bollocks. He would have rather been entirely nude so he could feel every inch of Lelia’s soft, velvety skin, but her desperate pleas were driving him insane, and he couldn’t stand to deny her for even a second longer.
He fished out a packet of lube from his back pocket—he was no sadist, at least not sexually, and so refused to let any of his partners take his oversized cock without extra help—tearing it open with his teeth and drizzling it onto his rockhard shaft. He stroked himself a few times, spreading it out, before he finally lined himself up with Lelia’s pretty pussy and began to push in.
***
Lelia gasped as the fat head of König’s cock made it past her tight entrance, making him freeze as he stretched her further than any of the men she’d ever been with. But for the first time in her life, it didn’t hurt, which was what had truly shocked her. She had come to believe that König wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt her when he took her, but she had still expected pain. She thought that was a given, with sex. But all she felt was a queer pressure, one she found herself liking. She wanted more of it… she ignored his concerned, increasingly frantic questions and rocked back onto his cock, groaning as she felt it slide deeper. Now it was König’s turn to gasp, and his hands, which had found their way to her hips, tightened. He pulled her back by them as he thrust forward, forcing more of himself inside her. He kept going, burying his length deeper and deeper until she was sure no more could fit. But he didn’t stop, and she didn’t ask him too, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to be so full she couldn’t think of anything else. Her fingers curled into sheets and she panted, mind spinning at a thousand kilometers an hour, body humming with pleasure and anticipation. And when he finally bottomed out, his hips flush with her bum, they moaned in tandem, the sound reverberating off the walls.
“Mein Engel,” König whispered, his broad chest pressed against her back. “You take me so well…”
Lelia mewled at the praise, and then gasped again when one of König’s hands slid from her hip to her belly, pressing down against the bulge he found there. He groaned lowly in her ear, the sound making her shiver as his hot breath misted across her skin.
“Für mich gemacht… mein omega,” he continued, sounding a little breathless. She desperately wanted to know what he was saying, but she only knew English and Russian, not German.
Perhaps she would try to learn. He would probably be pleased if she did.
Suddenly, König pulled half his length out of her before thrusting back in, hitting that spot inside her that he’d prodded at with his fingers earlier. She let out a sweet, high pitched moan, her eyes rolling back a little bit, and before she could even begin to catch her bearings, he did it again. The moan was louder this time, needier, and Konig answered it with a low rumble and a harder, deeper thrust. Lelia mewled, mind growing foggy as warmth spread through her body. There was a part of her that was unsure where she was, and who the Alpha behind her was—Andrew? Christoph? One of his clients?—that grew with every thrust, but she wasn’t in pain, and she felt oddly unafraid, so she didn’t tense up or panic. She just let herself enjoy the pleasant sensations, and every time she heard the Alpha speak, she was reminded of what was happening—that this was, miraculously, her choice. A breathy little giggle bubbled out of her when that fact finally sank in, and König’s answering chuckle was as beautiful as a symphony, filling her with a feeling of awe.
“What is so funny, Schatzi?” He asked, slowing his thrusts a little bit so she could string enough words together to answer.
“Feels good,” she whispered, the words almost catching in her throat when he hit that spot inside her again. She mewled softly. “Like it. Want it.”
And that was what had her so dizzy with wonder—that for the very first time, Lelia had chosen this. That it wasn’t happening against her will. That it was bringing her happiness and pleasure instead of fear and pain. That it could bring her those things. She had never dreamed that was possible, not since the nightmare that had been her wedding night.
König growled, but it didn’t scare her. It was a growl of approval, not an attempt to intimidate her. He began to fuck her harder, and when she begged for more in needy little whimper, his rhythm quickened. Soon enough, he had to hold her body in place by her hips so she didn’t smack her head into the wall from the force of his thrusts. She should have been terrified, the hard and fast fucking reminiscent of how Andrew had always taken her—but she wasn’t, not even a little bit. She felt far too good.
In fact, there was a warm pressure building low in her belly, the same warm pressure that König had caused her to feel with his mouth and fingers twice already. She squirmed on his cock as it grew and grew, until it finally burst and she cried out, her core clenching around his length as her back arched and her body trembled. Seconds later, she felt König’s seed fill her as he groaned, his knot rapidly expanding and making her whine and wriggle as it stretched her even further. He shushed her tenderly, pressing her down onto the bed with his considerable weight, letting go of her hip to pull his mask up so he could kiss her jaw, his stubble tickling her skin.
“Settle, omega,” he commanded, and with a shuddering inhale, Lelia stopped moving about, laying still and letting his warm, strong presence and heady scent soothe her instincts. He hummed in approval. “Good Schatzi.”
Lelia’s cunt throbbed around his knot at the unexpected praise, and she blushed deeply, glad he couldn’t see her face. Though his knowing chuckle was embarrassing enough, and she buried her head in the blankets.
“Do not hide yourself, little one,” he tsked, rolling his hips and making her squeal. “You are too beautiful. I will weep if I cannot see you.”
For a second, Lelia thought König’s voice sounded a bit thick, as if he were truly on the edge of tears. But she dismissed the notion immediately, knowing it was ridiculous. Nonetheless, she lifted her head and looked over her shoulder, her cheeks growing even redder when she saw the intensity with which König was staring at her. She lowered her gaze, feeling shy despite the fact that he was still inside her. She cringed a little when she recalled the way she had thrown herself at him. Surely, he would realize how much of a dirty whore she was now, if he hadn’t already…
A finger under her chin made her look up again, but before she could even notice that König’s mask had been tugged up over his nose, his lips were on hers, kissing her passionately, claiming and yet somehow still tender. She melted into the kiss—their first kiss—the reservations she had about allowing something so romantic fading away until she forgot she’d ever had them in the first place.
It's a pity his dominant posture can never last long when it comes to omegas :/ he just has to get on his knees and beg for a sniff of scent, for a drop of attention and a sip of tenderness.
Omegaverse has really been on my mind those last few days,, (`ー´)ゞ⌨️🖱️
König is for sure the definition of an alpha. Tall and brooding König whose pheromones are all over the place; whose presence commands either fear or obedience. It's no wonder he reached such a position in the Special Forces. You see, someone like him was born to rule over others...
Especially when his rut is just around the corner — God, where is a mate when needs one? He's really getting tired of humping pillows. Do something about it! ♡
König owns… a pretty big piece of land. He’s always wanted someplace broad and quaint for him and him alone, away from cruelty. He’s seen enough of it for multiple lifetimes.
It’s his safe haven, a sanctuary as much for the vast flora and fauna as it is for him.
One early morning when the light is blue, he makes the unfortunate discovery of a poacher trying to get one of his animals and well, just to be an asshole, König tails him. He creeps up from behind, a man his size stalking the forest floor without a sound, biding his time, waiting for the fucker to raise his rifle and make a move…
He picks up a sturdy branch off the ground, not some flimsy twig, grabs it firmly by the ends and snaps it in half. The loud crack of the old wood giving in echoed through the trees, loud enough to spook any critter big or small
The guy whirls around, ready for a fight.
“Hey, man. The fuck’s your pro—”
The words die on his tongue, there’s a gun pointed at the poacher’s face.
“This is private property.” König says, the dude knows this, pretty big fucking sign stating no trespassing. You’d think folks would listen…
The air is still, only the panicked panting of the man dressed in flannel fills König’s ears. He should let him meet his maker. Why shouldn’t he, thinking there’s more than one way to hide a body—or disappear it entirely. This won’t be the last time anyway. People never learn.
“Give me a reason, doesn’t even have to be a good one, for me not to waste you right here.”
I absolutely loooove thinking about different versions of König !! (^‿^)
Horny, pent up König who's a straight up pervert and gets hard just by thinking about lingerie vs. König who's not at all interested in sex and cares more about the cleanliness of his knives than the perspective of getting it on;
König who came from a rough background and joined the military in order to escape abuse and neglect vs. König who will forever be his mama's sweet boy, who joined the armed forces with the sole purpose of earning good money and giving her the life she deserves;
König who has no one and dreads the day retirement comes because, God, what will be of him then? vs. König who has everything planned out and anxiously awaits the end of his duty, anxiously awaits the comfort of a nice cabin on top of a mountain made just for him;
König who's deadly afraid of women and will likely die alone because approaching one is his worst nightmare vs. König with a cute wife and even cuter children that he loves so, so much;
König who only likes guns and knives and bombs and violence and only diy's things out of necessity vs. König who has so many weird, unexpected interests and loves to make things from scratch just for the sake of it;
König who never overcame his insecurities and still shakes in his boots by the mere thought of being perceived by others vs. König who's as secure on himself as a man can be and copes with his social anxiety by simply limiting socializing as much as possible.
What do you think König's days were like in Jagdkommando?
Whew..... buckle up buddy, this is gonna be a long post. You're about to get several paragraphs of how I envision König 👍
TW: mention of past sh ‼️
It's mentioned in König's bio that he was bullied in high school. I headcanon that he'd be quite severely bullied, to the point he'd actually sh. He volunteers for the austrian military at 17 to get away - his grades weren't the most amazing, and he can't afford to study away from his small village - so yeah, he ends up joining the military.
He has to get a waiver for his sh scars - and a bit of shit at basic for it. Often social anxiety is misinterpreted by other people as aloofness/arrogance, so König would struggle to get along and make friends for the first few years. Not to mention that he wanted to be a sniper, but fails selections. He becomes an insertion specialist (aka a living battery ram).
When JagKo trials roll around, König applies and passes it on the first go. As JagKo trials are notoriously difficult, and very few people pass selection. So when Konig joins the JagKo, he's no longer questioned or ridiculed - his skills are acknowledged. And that's probably when he starts donning the sniper hood - even though he's not sniper material, he's a crack shot, and JagKo is more than happy to utilise that.
He'd be quite comfortable during his time in JagKo - they're a smaller force, familiar faces, and they're not bothered by his old scars, supposed aloofness, etc. He makes some good buddies, he gets a good few promotions.
As for why he leaves JagKo and joins KorTac? That's a post for another day....
Oooh I love this!! This is a major headcannon for me.
It probably started in his childhood in not-so-obvious ways, progressed into his teenage years in more violent forms and left a lot of scars.
I do believe he stopped with the cutting at some point but still constantly engaged in harmful behaviors and put himself in dangerous situations quite often (being in the military made it quite easy).
He never came across as actively suicidal to me, though. Just as someone who constantly makes hurtful decisions without realizing it.
Self-indulgence final boss !! I'm ovulating and about to make it König's problem ᡣ𐭩.
CW: age gap (legal!), arranged marriage, suggestive.
It was never his intention to have a close relationship with you — decent, at most, but never intimate. Your union was not out of love, but necessity. He's already old, not as much of a hardened soldier as before, and farm life really took a toll on his already weakened state. It's the only reason why he complied to your parents's desperate pleas to accept your hand in marriage; it wouldn't hurt to have a helping hand around.
But you've been acting weirder than usual, and it's starting to bother him because your constant pouting is unnerving. You're a good wife, always dedicated to your duties around the house, but still young; which could only make way for stubbornness. He isn't sure what's going through your mind, but he's annoyed because your food tastes better when you're not angry.
✴
It's a cold afternoon when you corner him in the dining room. It's unexpected because you were never one for forwardness. It's unexpected because "are you impotent?" is the last thing he thought would come out of your mouth.
"Are you?", you press on, impassive. The rest of your questioning is quick to become a blur. You ask him if there's something wrong with your body; you ponder if it's because you aren't as young anymore (given that most girls in the village married in their teen years, while you were already in your twenties when your parents married you off); you tell him about your mother's teachings regarding your first night together, and about how frustrated you felt when nothing happened; you reveal about your never-ending efforts to seduce him.
In the end, it all comes down to the same thing: you're pent up. Extremely so, to the point it's making your cooking less tasty. Which is quite the nuisance, since he had always been one to value a good meal. Huh. There's really no such thing as a free lunch. It's kinda bothersome how he now has to rub you at least once a day in order to keep you happy and functioning. Youngsters and their stamina. Scheiße.
more not so creepy landlord könig? i just followed u and im fucking obsessed
Hahaha hello and welcome, I'm glad you liked it! Here is part four!
warnings: mommy kink but i fear that's a given at this point when it comes to könig
König beamed at the newly installed dishwasher, for once, not thinking about the way his scars twisted grotesquely with the expression. He was far too proud to care.
“For you, Fraulein!” He announced, very careful not to call you Mama like he so desperately wanted to. He wanted to be your sweet boy, to end every day laying in bed with you, suckling at your lovely breasts as you carded your fingers through his hair and stroked his cock. Or even better, kept it warm and safe inside your perfect pussy…
“I still can’t believe you got me a dishwasher,” you said, pulling him from his dirty thoughts. “You better not increase my rent because of it.”
“Nein, I will not!” König insisted. He hesitated for only a second before deciding to push his luck. “But I will ask for more lemonade.”
You huffed a laugh, raising your brows as you smiled at him. He gave you a pleading look. You rolled your eyes.
“Fine,” you groaned. “I suppose I can stand your company for a little longer.”
König’s heart skipped a beat. That was one of the nicest things a woman had ever said to him.
“Speaking of,” you continued, waving a hand towards the table as you went to fetch something from the fridge. “Go sit. I’m making you dinner tonight, as a thank you. Then we’ll be even.”
König’s eyes widened in shock, before he scrambled over to the table, folding his too-big body into the small chair. He wanted to offer to help you cook, but he was afraid that if he made one wrong move, you'd kick him out. And the thought of not getting to eat a home cooked meal made by you, now that you’ve finally offered it, is devastating. So he sits in the chair, still and quiet, like a good boy. And when ten minutes later, you hand him a bowl of potatoes and tell him to peel them, he does so with the utmost care. He will make you proud of him. Proud to be his Mama…
König and his crooked nose and crooked teeth and crooked mind ache for a loving gaze and an open heart. For someone to, even if just a little, appreciate him as a whole — with the scars and all.
The mask can only hide so much, the layers and layers of clothes can't stay on forever. Will you judge him when they come off? Will you touch his skin and feel its warmth? Will you acknowledge his humanness as his chest rises and falls with every breath?
Just imagine getting to live with farmer!König in a ranch far, far away from the city. The land is fertile and extensive — there are trees and flowers and bugs everywhere.
His arms are fat from the never-ending labour; his back rivals a tree trunk with how wide it is; his thighs are the juiciest, juiciest things across the entire estate.
I bet his clothes have to be fixed often and his meals are always huge. Hearty and organic, prepared with love by his sweet wife. He'd never become ripped with a diet like that. Just soft and delicious U ´꓃ ` U.
I like to think about Retired!König sometimes. Big, rough, mean König, stripped away of everything that made him König. It came not from old age, not from his own will, but from a bomb that shattered his knee and left him with a permanent limp that could be treated but not cured. A slow soldier is a dead soldier, and there was nothing he or the medics could do to stop the retirement from reaching his way and ruining everything he had ever built.
Alexander returns to an empty home and an overflowing bank account that could only exist in the hands of a soldier with enough of a bad character to smear his hands with dirty work. But it doesn't matter now. The old ladies down the street will never know of his sins, and neither will the people who cross his path everyday. A blessing isn't too far from a curse, after all, and the blissful unawareness of others serves more as a way into isolation than anything. König was reserved, yes, but never anonymous. Everyone around base knew about his achievements, about the feats of his career, about what it took to become a Colonel.
Ah, this is why the suicide rate among veterans is so high, isn't it? Not even a man of such size can escape the suffering that lingers when everything breaks into small pieces of nothing but memories.
It's been a while since I last posted something here. I kind of became obsessed with a guy and it made me go a little crazy. Not anymore, though!! Back to writing (˶ˆᗜˆ˵).
There are countless advantages to being a high-ranking soldier in a shady organization. High paying contracts, prestige. Tolerance. A commanding officer will sweep anything under the rug if it means protecting a valuable piece of the scheme, as long as it reveals itself to be profitable enough.
Everybody knows about König's latest acquisition. The sucess of the latest mission in Berlin was a trophy only he could take credit for and a man of such difficult character cannot be questioned when it comes to the bounties his work brings. The superiors tried, but there wasn't anything they could do to stop him from taking his prize home.
A girl. Not one of the hostages nor an AQ fighter a girl. Nobody knows where she really came from or how König got his hands on her, but he vanished as soon as the mission was completed and only returned a few months later after taking extended leave for the first time in years.
No one brings up the sudden appearance of the ring on his finger or questions it when he unashamedly mentions the 'bird' at home. It's an unspoken rule, a taboo. The shift in the Colonel's usual difficile behavior is enough to keep the highest ranks quiet and the lower recruits grateful; there are less violent outbursts and it's easier to manage his bad personality in and out of the field now that there's a doll waiting for him hidden somewhere in the Austrian Alps.
Unfortunately for you, his talent with guns cannot be replaced and no one is getting rid of him for the time being. The organization wants to keep him in line as much as possible and will go to great lengths to ensure that. Even if it means ignoring the elephant in the room or the girl in the basement. Whatever that may mean.
Before we start, I'd like to let everyone know that this is my first time writing something suggestive ( ;´ - `;). So I'm sorry if this is too awkward !!
CW: mention of overstimulation [m!receiving].
König was desperate. When was the last time his body felt the soft touch of a woman? Even the strongest man can't go without it for too long. Not even him, although he liked to think of himself as more of a machine than a man.
Such desperation — it was probably what led him into your arms. You looked like a doll. All fluttering eyes and soft talk. Like that of a mermaid, your song called out to him and he, deceived by your beauty, ran right into your trap like the silliest of pirates.
He wasn't sure when you had fished out those handcuffs. Those cute, fluffy, pink handcuffs that wrapped around his wrists so daintily and made the situation border comicality. In your eyes, at least, because you seemed to be having fun. Milking orgasm after orgasm out of him, batting your lovely eyelashes and promising it'd be the last time (though after the third time he seemed to realize you weren't planning on stopping at all).
König was desperate. Which explains why he gave you his phone number when you suggested "meeting up again some other time". It's not everyday that you find such an eager woman, right, König?
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