cw: slow burn, multi-part series, yandere!könig, obsessive/possessive!könig, stalker!könig, smut later on, mild tension, depictions of panic attacks/anxiety (könig), depictions of violence (again, könig), premilitary könig until it’s not (multi-part), bad german (author = ignorant american), lmk if i missed any!!
read part I first!!
könig had never felt this way. when he wasn’t with you — or at least around you, — he was thinking of you.
he was also thinking about prom. he dreaded it and was far too excited for it at the same time.
the next day after school, könig waited outside the doors, your umbrella in hand. not long after, his peers came piling out of the building with little regard to his existence, thankfully. up until this point, you had been one of the last to leave, so the sudden wave of people didn’t bother him that much. he wondered if you had meant what you said yesterday, his body incapable of staying still as the wait ate away at him. shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he found it made the time pass quicker, but also made his nerves rapid fire. anxious, scared, waiting. . . könig straightened his posture so much that he may break when he finally saw you leave.
blood boiling when he saw who accompanied you. the boy you seemed to take a liking toward from before, and the boy who, for whatever reason, hated könig’s guts.
it was könig’s job to walk you home, not his. it was könig’s job to make your face flush a pinkish tint, not his.
and it was certainly könig’s job to take you to prom, not his. that, he was sure of, now.
without realizing, you and your friend made your way towards könig, who heavily debated between ridding the world of the scum that accompanied you, and playing dumb, like he normally did.
no, he certainly wasn’t dumb.
“was zum teufel machst du?” (what the fuck are you doing?) spat from his mouth upon noticing könig’s staring as he approached closer. your eyes widened, slowing your pace to fall behind your new friend. while you may not be able to fully understand what he said, his tone painted his words with hostility. and while you weren’t really accustomed to könig’s social dynamics, you knew a death stare when you saw one.
könig, whose body nearly froze upon hearing his voice, barely gestured the umbrella in his hand, now looking at him.
“andreas —” your meek voice attempted to interject, however, it was no use in a match full of german profanity between two extremely large men.
“sprich verdammt noch mal nicht mit ihr, könig,” (don’t fucking talk to her, könig.) andreas warned, his gaze falling onto könig’s face, which grew more red by the second. “sie ist mein.” (she’s mine.)
up until this point, you weren’t certain if the hostility was because of you, or something else you didn’t know about. however, you certainly began putting the pieces together when andreas placed an arm over your shoulders, practically crushing you beneath his weight as he squeezed your body against his side.
a mixture of the foreign touch invading your personal space and könig’s flinch made your body react before a thought crossed your mind, pushing yourself away from andreas who, until this point, seemed like a sincere man on the surface. it was becoming obvious that your intuition was wrong, using you like some sort of bait to get a rise out of könig.
thankfully, your body’s reaction proved to be worth the hassle. könig’s glare clearly witnessed the arm over your shoulder. he saw red, never before being so motivated to hurt anybody. he couldn’t even recall approaching him closer.
andreas must not have been expecting the outburst from könig; it seemed as though in a mere instant, könig’s knuckles were irritated red, spots of blood sticking to his skin as andreas fell to the ground, blood spurring from his nose and mouth.
“könig!” you screeched, suddenly aware that you were still on school property, and despite being thankful that könig was able to prove andreas’ ill intentions toward a friendship, terrified.
“fass sie nicht an,” (don’t touch her.) könig was too far gone to pay any mind to the damage he had already done, throwing himself atop andreas to hit him again until he felt satisfied. at this point, he felt he’d never be fully satisfied.
“könig, stop!” you tried again, this time using any sort of power in your body to pull at könig’s arm, a benign attempt at breaking up the bloody confrontation. immediately after könig’s fist landed on his jaw again, könig’s body seemed to go lightweight, allowing himself the mercy of your touch to pry him away.
he stood, infuriated, his mind working overtime, thinking of different ways to hurt andreas, until your hands pushed at his heaving chest, motioning for him to leave.
perhaps he was just as dumb. despite his pride breaking into a thousand, microscopic pieces, he turned to leave, quickly before you had the chance to keep up with him. there was no way he could recover or excuse from that, not after seeing the fear in your eyes.
panicking, you watched könig’s figure leave suddenly, not sparing a glance back as he moved to the correct direction of the house he regretted to call home, “könig!” you yelled, trying to capture his attention in the slightest as he left, but to no avail. wincing, you leaned forward to inspect the damage done to andreas, who barely squinted his eyes open. “shit — sorry, i’m sorry.”
your apology was quiet, pathetic, and swift. you couldn’t allow könig to walk away.
you chased after the austrian in the direction he left, calling his name repeatedly as the sky above you grew dark again, rain threatening to pour down. the heavily wooded area also didn’t assist, clouding the entire area in a permanent film of darkness.
“könig!” you shouted again upon catching a glimpse of his receding figure once more, this time speeding your pace to reach him before he could escape again. “könig, hey!”
he certainly heard you, and he certainly felt your touch as you grabbed onto his arm, gently this time as you struggled to meet his gaze.
“i don’t know what he told you, but it isn’t true, whatever it is,” you spoke quickly, tears threatening to spill at the mere idea of könig never speaking to you again, despite the fact that he has yet to do so in conversation. something within you didn’t want to disappoint him. something within you didn’t want to lose him so quickly. “könig, stop!”
and so he did, albeit hesitantly. he stood still and stiff, focusing more on his own breaths and your voice than the impending dark cloud overcoming the small town. a prologue to the weather, the air smelled of rain, choking könig even more so.
“what did he say to you?” you asked, your voice softer now, shoulders relaxing as you watched him halt; appearing as though he’s listening, his silence made you think otherwise.
he didn’t know what to say. he could tell you all andreas had said, but he couldn’t form the words. lost in a fit of rage, könig hesitated to speak up.
“he should probably go to the hospital,” könig said finally as you approached him again, this time standing right in front of him; his shadow overcasting your entirety, his eyes bore into yours. “i heard his nose break.”
you stood, dumbfounded. you didn’t want to talk to könig about andreas; seemingly all he could focus on was that. his gaze averted, anywhere but your face, reminded of the fear creased between your brows and behind your eyes.
retreating back to minor details, könig looked at the state of his knuckles; could be worse, but certainly not to be mangled in front of a lady — in front of you. fucking monster.
“are you with him?” he finally asked, still too indulged in the state of his hand to look at you again, becoming increasingly difficult due to how much he towered over you. the question came out small and soft, but inside he was seething; terrified that you might say yes.
“no,” you responded, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you got closer to könig, forcing his diverted gaze back to you. reminded of why he was so angry in the first place; he wanted something for himself. he wanted you for himself. “he’s kind of a. . . dick.”
despite being sincere about it, könig’s soft chuckle nearly made you leap from your skin, able to see him so naturally, allowing himself the moment to laugh. you smiled, but it disappeared as quickly as it came; the gravity of the situation returning.
“i didn’t mean for that to happen,” you spoke again, “any of that. . . and, you don’t have to take me to the prom. i told my mom that just so she wouldn’t worried that i wasn’t fitting in.”
he looked at you as if he was waiting for you to continue, wanting more from you. craving more. you shifted, feeling embarrassed for apologizing for something that may or may not have been your fault, but also for unloading the truth to könig about your minor parental issues.
he only nodded, his eyes scanning down your body; normally to admire you, but this time to subtly admit his wrongdoings.
“shouldn’t have done that in front of you,” he finally says, anxiety acting as a entity in his throat, only allowing so many words out at a time.
“is he always mean to you?” you ask, curiousity peaked. in america, you were dumb to outcast the biggest man around. even more so when his height competed to skyscrapers, and his arms were bigger than your head.
könig didn’t respond, at least not vocally. he swallowed hard, attempting to push the shyness down to say something—anything. out of all, he wanted to tell you how much he liked your company. he wanted to tell you how much he’d love to take you to prom. or anywhere else you’d want to go.
his cheeks were still red. his blue eyes glassy. it wasn’t frustration or anger, not depression or sadness.
“you okay?” you asked, your concern etched between your brows as you looked up at him, ignoring the strain in your neck as you stood impossibly close to him. nobody had ever stood so close, nobody ever looked at him for so long. despite coming down from a panic attack, he nodded, suppressing the urge to touch you, to feel grounded. “are you gonna take me home?”
<><>
könig felt both terrified and excited, arriving at your house. only because, upon noting the empty driveway and lack of lights, your face lit up with a bright smile.
“my parents aren’t home,” you sighed with glee, not allowing könig the possibility of dismissing himself before you grabbed his arm, running, dragging the giant towards your front porch. “come on, we can hang out.”
könig wasn’t particularly keen on social queues, however, he wasn’t absolutely oblivious. despite his excitement for the possibility of sex — his first time, ever — he paused as you fumbled with the key in your hand, eager to get inside.
“are you sure?” he asked, his mouth going dry and his accent thick, a telltale sign that he was nervous. he wanted to — he wished he could say that he really, really fucking wanted to — but he couldn’t forgive himself if he were to hurt you when trying his best to make you feel good.
“yes. american movie you have got to watch,” you smile, oblivious to könig’s implications, and therefore, dumbfounded when he spoke again.
“i don’t. . . i don’t want to hurt you,” he was quiet, ashamed, terrified again, forced to speak before things got out of hand. you turned, confusion evident on your face as you inspected his; slight worry, nothing far out of ordinary.
as the rain began to hit, leaving a sheet of water across the entirety of the surrounding area, something clicked within your mind.
“könig,” you couldn’t help but laugh, turning your head away with a harsh blush overcoming your cheeks. hurt me? “we’re just watching a movie. come on.”
you found his awkwardness endearing, his uncertainty cute.
you finally got the door unlocked and open, dragging könig inside to run directly into another mistake; quite literally, run into it. könig, being forced to squeeze through the space you made going through the door, smacked his head against the wood, pushing it open further as you gasped, suffocating a laughter as könig’s palm, accompanied by his bloody knuckles, gently touched his head.
“ow,” he softly said, wincing as he closed the door behind him. more surprised than actually injured.
“sorry,” you shyly spoke, however, the slight detour didn’t stop you from dragging him up the stairs, glancing back every so often to ensure he wasn’t getting a concussion on the way up. you couldn’t help but laugh, enamored by könig entirely; his shyness, his voice, and how often you have to ensure he hasn’t hurt himself.
reaching your bedroom, könig was quite surprised to see the girlish tones throughout. your mattress was swaddled with light pink sheets, your blanket matching at a slightly darker shade. your walls were covered with photographs and posters, obviously famous people that he had never heard of before. aside from your bed, there was a dresser, a night stand, and a sturdy table with a television set on it. beside your dresser, another table — painted white — with a mirror sitting atop, and a small stool tucked beneath the table itself.
upon closer inspection, he learned fairly quickly that you did your makeup in that spot after gently touching the top of the table, earning himself a glittering fingertip. brushing it against his chest to rid of the evidence, he was displeased to see the glittering substance smear across his black t-shirt, but not so displeased to know it came from you.
he would’ve tried getting the glitter out, but not after he caught sight of your second drawer, slightly cracked open from this morning, he assumed. inside, a mixture of light colored and black undergarments; bras, panties, some socks.
“here, sit down,” your voice was enough to scare him back to reality, prying his gaze from the open drawer back to you. the door behind you was open, leading into a bathroom of your own. intrigued, könig followed your lead as you sat him on your bed. “hold this,” you handed him a small bottle of clear liquid and a small bag of cotton balls. you were quick to turn on the television, popping the movie in as könig attempted to wrap his head around what you gave him the items for.
returning back towards him, könig’s breath hitched as you sat close to him; so fucking close, focused on the television as you blindly took the items back and pulled his hand across your lap. now, he was shaking — trembling. his stomach flipped, feeling the softness of your thigh where his fingers touched below your skirt. he didn’t think it was so short until he touched you.
you worked without hardly looking at your hands, putting a small amount of alcohol onto a cotton ball. you finally looked down at his trembling hand while you gently padded the irritated knuckles, earning a quiet breath from könig, who seemingly wasn’t accustomed to properly cleaning and caring for scratches. he remained still, letting you work the alcohol over his knuckles, which didn’t seem to bother him until now. still, he didn’t dare to move from this position, mesmerized by you.
“do you want subtitles?” you asked before the movie began the majority of the plot, concerned that he may miss details if he wasn’t listening very well.
he shook his head, continuing to watch as you gently cared for his scrapes; his reward for standing up for himself, reminding himself to do it more often.
despite his fixation, he couldn’t help but notice the sudden wave of relief that washed over him. a calmness he never felt before, granted to him by your light touches alone. for a moment, nothing in the world mattered. while könig had a hard time finding anything that mattered to him, he seemed to have struck a fortune, just at his fingertips.
you glanced at him, setting the used cotton ball on his thigh whilst you worked on the rest of his knuckles, smiling when you caught him staring, “what?”
könig couldn’t understand why you seemed to enjoy him so much. it almost worried him, how quick you were to trust him, how quickly he became a friend. he’d never had a friend, not that he can remember. he remembers the insistent chatter about how strange he is, how quiet and awkward he was. he remembers his father returning home with a strong scent of liquor on his tongue. both parties left wondering what the hell went wrong with könig.
but not you. you talked to him, eased his mind, touched him without the intent to hurt him. he wanted to ask you why you felt the need to be such a person for someone like himself, but he didn’t.
“nothing,” he says quietly, almost quietly enough to be masked by the sound of the television. but you smiled again, a crimson tone coming to your cheeks. instead of cleaning his scratches, you were absentmindedly pushing back his cuticles; something he’s clearly neglected for quite some time.
“you know, the more i hear you talk, the more i like your voice,” you admitted, meaning for it to come across as a nudge for him to speak up more often. instead, your flirtation didn’t go unnoticed by könig, who now couldn’t look you in the eye. it hadn’t occurred to könig that little things could be the target for someone’s infatuation. for könig, he could obsess over every detail of your body; he never had the idea that others could do the same for him. your admission made his heart flutter, biting down on his lip to conceal a fustered smile.
the two of you remained comfortable like that for a while, accustomed to the mutual silence as könig seemed to finally pay half a mind to the movie you wanted him to see. hand rested on your thigh, despite your nursing and pampering ending ages ago, he didn’t dare move away, and neither did you.
“why don’t you talk to me, könig?” you asked out of the blue, quietly; you didn’t intend to sound condescending or pushy, but genuinely curious. his hand had been mindlessly squeezing and releasing his grip, ever so slightly on your leg. his eyes returned to you again, noticing the way you shyly receed from his gaze.
“i’m watching the movie you wanted me to watch,” he said plainly, smiling again shortly thereafter. you did, too, giggling at his witty remark despite his inability to hold much of a conversation. you noticed, upon his gaze and attention turning back to you, his light squeezing had stopped. you missed it.
“be serious.”
könig blinked, the euphoric feeling in his chest beginning to smother, replaced with a heavy sensation of anxiety.
mistaking his anxiety for plain nerves, you leaned closer to him, gently resting your chin on his shoulder to look at him through your lashes, pleading for a real explanation.
könig could write a fucking list of why he didn’t have the confidence to talk to you. still, he knew his conversational skills were severely lacking and that eventually, he would need to learn the trade to get closer to you.
“you want me to talk more?” he finally asked, earning a shy smile from you as you heard his voice once more, nodding quickly and enthusiastically.
“for me,” anything, he thought.
the moment of clarity settling in — the feelings left unsaid finally bubbling to the surface — cut short. your eyes widened, hearing the familiar sound of your father’s car pulling into the driveway, it’s headlights peering through your window.
“shit,” you muttered, launching yourself from the bed and away from könig’s touch, feeling oddly cold by it’s absence, but knowing that there were more important things at hand. how does one remove a mountain of a man out of her house without her parents suspecting a thing?
könig stood just as you turned back to face him, to search for a promising answer to your internal prayers. your dad would kill könig and you’d be grounded for eternity. könig moved toward the window, peaking outside to watch your parents exit the car and move toward the front porch, keys in your father’s hands.
pushing the window open, könig was — somehow — able to squeeze through the relatively small space and onto your roof, recalling the possible paths of getting down at the speed of light within his mind.
“könig,” you called out, leaning out the window as könig decided to climb down the fencing lining your front porch, adorned with purple flowers he would attempt not to destroy on his way down. still, he stopped, looking back at you with anticipation, listening to your parents close the front door behind them and their chattering fill the silence from downstairs.
pulling him closer by the collar of his t-shirt, you inched closer towards him, gently placing your lips onto his for a moment of ecstasy; his eyes involuntarily closing, his hand mindlessly reaching for your neck. so heated that könig didn’t have time to process that it was his first kiss, expertly extending the interaction in a needy manner without an ounce of nervousness in his system. you were so soft, he could indulge in the comfort of your kisses all day.
könig didn’t feel the strong pull of adrenaline and obsession until you pulled away, hearing your mother call your name from the base of the stairs. you departed, closing the window before rushing downstairs, afraid that könig might notice the raging blush across your cheeks.
hot take those accounts that try to be "realistic" about cod characters and basically just stretch the character out as much as they can and portray them as a sick disgusting pervert with no respect for women at all and reduce them to basically just an asshole who doesn't love you are just as unrealistic as the accounts that portray the 141 boys as hot dom daddies or whatever
So let's break it down. I actually dreamed this for some reason, but idk if it's offensive to the transgender community, so I want to hear from yall and get your thoughts. Let's get to the points!
It's for the COD Fandom!
I was thinking Keegan or maybe Soap.
Basically, the character was born a female and lived a pretty negative & abusive life, but it was like mentally, financially, emotionally abusive, so she didn't realize it was even happening.
After a really bad break up with her boyfriend/fiance/husband, she turns to friends, and after a really long and deep convo, she realizes she's been Trans this whole time.
Of course, due to her life and family, she always thought those thoughts she had were just normal silly little "What ifs."
Skip over some stuff she finds this lab that's looking for volunteers for a full gender change transition experiment.
She goes to the lab and I don't want to put full details here but let's just say it's not an easy process. It's obviously a really complicated process.
In the end he comes out as a completely new person feeling like his real self for the first time.
Then he would somehow meet Keegan or Soap and a budding yet angsty relationship would begin.
Of course, it wouldn't happen in order in the story. we'd find out a little bit about the characters' past and journey in bits and pieces, basically, as Keegan or Soap would find out.
I really need thoughts! Is this a good idea to write about? Or not? I personally am not transgender but I do have close friends & family that are. Please let me know what yall think!
