#sub!konig

[chanterelle-megaton]

when you’ve finished looking through the sub!könig tag on ao3 so life has no meaning anymore

[rarebambi]

hmmmm

sub!könig

dom!könig

Voting ended onOct 16, 2025

this is very important btw

[lowlydogs]

Sub!Konig headcanons.

GN reader. Reader can be read as penetrating/not.

Konig has a very, very conflicted relationship with submission.

Independence is not exclusive from wanting structures to obey. It's why he's snug and relaxed in the military hierarchy: He has a clear place and name, while still having a figure to follow and report to.

The biggest thing that impeded Konig from trying a game of mounting with you was his frail pride. Oh, his pride. The man has the nasty ego of a nerd-turned-frat. Convincing him alone took a month of carefully placed hints and suggestive words to have him skeptically consider the idea.

So, out of goodwill and (mainly) to ensure he doesn't stomp away flustered mid-session, you opted to treat him gently. Make it feel like a situation he can partake in with dignity, not have it ripped off of him.

The first time it happened, to anyone of less experience, Konig might've looked unimpressed and at worst, constipated. You never had him this quiet, nothing but his piercing, consuming eyes observing every move. For the first time in your life, as you prepared yourself and squeezed lube into your hands, you felt daunted by him.

However, eventually, you realize a thing after the initial suspense passes. In solid 5 minutes, Konig has done absolutely nothing but lay supine, legs just silently spread.

The ruthless sniper of Kortac is a pillow princess.

But you're a soldier of your words. Stripping him naked all except the mask on his face and his socks, holding his leg open, you planted kisses on his neck and sunk in. That is when he stops being quiet, as the lewd sound of wet plops and whines (whines) fills the room. Konig came barely minutes later, his leg tensing and his head thrown back. You take him only on a second round, feel this goliath of a man arch his back and palm at you until too shortly, he comes again. You lay down against him and softly caressed his back as he shakingly breathed in and out. That’s how it was. Brief and soft.

Outside the power trip of fucking a man taller than a door and the tantalizing sight of his fucked-out eyes, it was... pretty disappointing sex. You could admit that.

Short and sweet, certain, but you had to jack yourself off afterward and you were certain this was the only time Konig would bottom to you again.

That is, until two days later, you nearly killed Konig flinging a cup of water at him when you found him casually sitting on your barrack bed in complete darkness.

Jesus christ, you're more than open to dom him once more, but couldn't he found any more normal way to ask that?

However, that complaint perished quick on your tongue as Konig tugged at your wrist and reticently pressed it down against his abdomen, pulling you into his open legs. You felt the outline of his abs, his fuzzy happy trail, a shy little bulge in his boxers. God bless his soul, he lasted just a bit longer and held on just stronger. The bed mildly shook as you roughened your pace. He shed tears and wheezed like a particularly pathetic animal, burying his face in the crane of your neck, squeezing your back. He lasted three rounds this time: For that little tenacity, you rewarded him with a good boy. Shivers ran down his spine like he climaxed again. Satisfaction warmly swelled in you as you gently flipped and big spooned him that night, pleasantly spent and exhausted.

That is until you found him in your barracks again next evening. You pushed him out, told him you had patrol tomorrow. Then he was there the next evening. Then the evening after that.

Something in your dynamics irreversibly changed after what happened, that was assured and guaranteed. The package of "Fucking your coworker till he cries" came with a warning label, loud and clear. Hell, you even calculated for it and wrote down all scenarios, of everything that could possibly branch and happen. Maybe he’d be respectful of it, have some maturity, or he’d avoid the topic entirely. The most annoying it'll get is he’d distance himself, or worse, antagonize you. All you expected and didn’t particularly care for, outside of professional reasons. But out of everything, Konig turning up every night hands politely set in his lap is the thing that shakes you off your feet. The sniper had become disturbingly benign, acting more like an awkward teenager than the self-assured bastard he once was.

He was different. He didn’t call you every synonym of an imbecile when you missed a shot. Offered to take your night shift when you bitched about begin too tired for it. Weird backhanded words of admiration that both praised and called you a bitch. In one of the nights he arrived, he had lit candles. Not just any candles. The sexy, rose-scented, red valentine candles. It was getting weird.

You finally fully realized the gravity of the situation on Pizza day. At lunch, he silently shared a piece of his pizza with you. You looked at him agape with horrified eyes.

His pizza.

Did you just fuck Konig into sainthood?

[uhohdad]

What would truly humiliate König (sexual style)? ;)

König loves being forced to eat his own cum :(

Especially if implemented when he breaks the rules, finishing too early or without permission. It never fails to turn him red in the face. When the degradation pairs with a scolding, he feels small, a feat only you could pull off.

Swiping two of your fingers across the mess he made on his stomach, ordering him to open up so you can drag his cum across his tongue, forcing him to clean your fingers over and over, stretching out his punishment until he’s swallowed every drop.

If he stains his underwear with his finish, he’s gagged with the crumpled and ruined fabric, the wet splotch settled right on his tongue, his whines and needy moans muffled until you’re satisfied.

If any of his cum gets on the floor, he’s ordered to get on his hands and knees and lick up his mess until it’s spotless. If he’s been extra disobedient, you press a gentle but firm shoe to the back of his head, smearing his mistake on his face.

If he can’t control himself while pleasuring you, finishing into your warm, tight cunt too early, he’s dragged between your thighs by his hair. He’s not allowed to pull away for air until he’s tidied his mess and corrected his failure - lapping at your arousal and his cum until you’re spasming on his greedy tongue. ♡

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[uhohdad]

Dawg what if we tortured König instead. Forcing him down on his knees after kidnapping him huh :(((. I need. To torture a man. But also he seems like a maso

(18+) König x Reader

Bested by a meek little thing like you. He of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover, he was wrong to overlook you, to underestimate you. The hypocrisy is sharpened into a serated blade that shreds him from core to chest. Those half-lidded, dangerous blue eyes project nothing but icy hatred. Under his hood, his lips pull into a snarl, a growl threatening to leave grit teeth.

The aching, leaking cock straining against the give in his pants tells a different story.

His eyes roll when you catch it. Your brow raises, head tilting with a smug, arrogant grin that spreads like butter across bread.

“Well, would you look at that,” You chime, the patronization in your voice successfully searing his skin with heat.

The muzzle of your gun gets distracted, your aim leaving his chest, a slight rattle in your gun’s parts as you eye the taut zipper of his pants.

When you laugh, proud and sinful and cackling, he has to close his eyes, fingers clenching over the palms raised in surrender. He mutters under his breath, cursing his cock that only strengthens in response to your reveling in his humiliation.

Your draw is smooth, eyes narrowed at him, a playful smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“You pervert.”

König has to look away, his eyes finding the ceiling, giving you a clear view of the adam’s apple nervously bobbing in his throat.

“You like this?” You give a two-note hum as your boots step closer to him, “You like it when someone tames a thing like you?”

Your gun gestures top to bottom, outlining his clearly superior figure.

He huffs a deep breath into his hood, tilting his head down to meet your eyes again, piercing you with a deadly stare. It would normally send a shiver down your spine, but unfortunately for him, König brought a stare to a gun fight.

Every muscle in König’s body tightens when you press the muzzle of your gun to the base of the strain in his pants. Craning your neck to meet his pretty, infuriated blue eyes, tracing your gun up the outline of his cock. He trembles and twitches under the teasing, dangerous touch, his eyes lulling behind fluttering eyelids.

You scoff, cheeks bunched with an arrogant smile.

“On your knees, soldier,” You mock, a light shake in your gun to pair with your demand.

König’s eyes crease when they pinch. His boots make a slight shuffle as he digests both hard truths - that he has no choice, and that his cock is pulsing in excitement because of it.

He has to force his muscles to obey your demands, his teeth grinding in frustration and his face burning under his hood while he plants his knees to the harsh touch of concrete, sitting back on his calves in defeat.

Each snicker, every scoff, every noise that conveys your superiority as you look down on him only sends more blood rushing to his painful erection.

The taunting, agonizingly slow steps you make as you circle him has his shoulders bracing a little tighter, his breaths shallow and his heart pounding in his chest.

His eyes pinch shut when you leave his sight, both your bootsteps and your voice behind him.

“Hands behind your back.”

König sputters, his fists clenching with a pause of hesitance before he meets your demand, giving any remaining control he had to you with trembling muscles. A shaky, deep exhale leaves him as you restrain him by his wrists, taut, scratchy rope digging into his flesh. He can’t resist the urge to sway ever so slightly on his thighs, granting minimal relief to his aching cock with the friction of his pants, smearing the generous bead of precum leaking from his tip onto his underwear.

When he’s tightly restrained, you circle him again, admiring the catch of the day before you settle between spread, powerful thighs. You give a long, drawn out hum as you ravage him with hungry eyes, drooling over him while you decide how you’re going to play with your prey. Your stare, the implications and the possibilities, sends a shudder down König’s spine.

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth when the sole of your boot presses to his cock. Gently at first, rolling your ankle to massage him through his pants, relishing in the shaky, soft gasps, and the squirm of his sculpted body.

“Feel good, pervert?” You whisper, a seductive tone stitched into your words, “You like being under my boot?”

He lets out a low, guttural moan, his eyes closing and his hips rutting ever so slightly into your touch.

When he doesn’t answer, you apply more pressure, your perpetual cocky smile disappearing at his disobedience. Your voice shoots up from silky smooth to harsh and demanding, jamming the muzzle of your gun into his forehead in threat.

“I asked you a question,” You growl.

König flinches, eyes twitching as he buckles his core under your cruel touch.

“Yes,” He grits, his affirmation strained.

You give a pleased hum, holding your abusive boot to him for a moment longer before granting him relief.

With one hand you press the muzzle of the gun to his forehead hard enough to leave an imprint, and with the other you swirl the button of your pants to free it from its notch. König eyes follow your fingers with shallow breath as you undo your zipper before bunching the fabric of your pants and underwear to your lower thigh.

“If you bite, I’ll end you. Got it?”

When König doesn’t answer, you jam the gun further into his flesh, insisting he make eye contact.

“Got it?”

König gives a harsh swallow and a shaky nod.

“Yes.”

Your thumb snags on the hem of his hood, pulling it up to reveal his lips and holding it in place with a strict finger on his cheek.

“Stick your tongue out.”

With cloudy, half-lidded eyes, he looks to you like you’re a higher power who just descended from the heavens, obeying to your wish, offering his tongue as a meager sacrifice.

The fingers on the side of his face tighten to guide him to your cunt, burying his nose and tongue into your clit.

His hood falls, caught in place by the bridge of his nose when you snatch a handful of the hair sticking out from the the t-shirt he uses as a mask, forcing him further into your cunt in the hopes of suffocating him. König’s eyes lull, glossy with arousal and the tears pricking in the corner of his eyes with each yank on his scalp. A pleased hum hides behind your sly smile, his stubble sanding along your cunt with each rut of your hips into his face, his tongue eagerly lapping at your clit.

“Grind on my boot.”

König lets out a shallow, hitched breath into your cunt, and uses the slack on his hair you’ve gifted him to lower himself to the top of your boot. Your light laugh twists into a groan, the grip on his hair harshening as he quickens his needy swipes along your cunt, painting you with his spit. König moans and grunts turn to a rousing vibration against your swollen clit, beads of sweat sheen on his forehead, his steady grinds on your shoe quickening.

König’s eager to please, wearing pussy drunk eyes and flushed cheeks while he hungrily coats his tongue with your arousal.

“Taste good?”

König nods, stifling a hum into your cunt, greedy tongue devouring you with sloppy verve.

“That’s a good boy.”

König whines, his cock throbbing against your shoe. When the rhythm of his slick tongue and grinds waver, you give a breathy laugh.

“Close already, hm? Been awhile since someone put you in your place?”

König’s needy groan is swallowed by your cunt, picking up the pace of his stripes as he indulges in your taste.

“It’s okay,” You coo with condescension, “You can make a mess in your underwear.”

König whines again, quickening his grinds until his truly pathetic moans come to a halt, muscles tight and trembling. He has to pull from your cunt to keep from nearly choking on his own breath, pressing his cheek into your thigh.

“Oh,” You draw soothingly, gently tracing your gun up and down the side of his face, “That’s my good boy. Did it feel good?”

König’s stubble scrapes against your inner thigh, smearing his spit and your arousal across your skin when he nods with short, puffy breaths. He melts into you as you scratch his scalp, your voice just a sultry purr.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet, sweetheart.”

♡ KÖNIG VISITS DOMINATRIX READER FOR THE FIRST TIME ♡

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[uhohdad]

(18+)

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

loser!könig finally breaks, he can’t handle it anymore. He needs you, he needs touch, he needs someone to help him relieve the ache in his frustrated, swollen cock.

loser!könig is on his knees, clinging to your leg with his cheek smushed to your thigh, mumbling unintelligible pleas into your skin.

loser!könig lets out a sob when your delicate hand slides into his hair, trailing your fingers over his scalp. Using that gentle, sweet voice to ask him what’s going on, what’s wrong, what happened.

loser!könig who looks up at you with glassy eyes and a trembling bottom lip, his desperate hold on you tightening when he catches your turned brows and features stitched in worry.

loser!könig whines and mutters nonsense as he presses his face back into your warm, cozy thigh, planting sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin. The stubble on his jaw sands against you while he paints you in his slobber and broken pleads.

loser!könig can’t control himself anymore, he needs release, grinding his painful erection against your shoe, his strong arms holding you steady even though you’re frozen in place. Your fingers are still laced with locks of his hair, but your soft scratches have ceased while he ruts his hips into you.

loser!könig lasts only seconds, needy whimpers and pathetic moans silenced when his muscles twitch around you, staining the inside of his underwear with his generous, pent-up finish.

loser!könig and you are both still and silent, the only sound that cuts through the heavy air is his exhausted, heaved breaths.

loser!könig lets out a sniveling whine, his eyes pinching shut, hiding his burning face in your thigh when you resume your gentle, soothing scratches through his hair.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

loser!könig <3

[moo-meoww]

dw guys he just tripped

[fullmoon-84]

This might just be my favorite sub!konig x femdom!reader fic.

Warnings to virgin!Konig, for those who don't like it (sadly)

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