♱ nineteen | she/her | going through an obsession
—I have lately began obsessing over this man and I decided to make a König archive of the posts I'm reading and such, I also write my thoughts about him. Enjoy.
—Masterlist.

Love Begins
Sweet Seals For You, Always
styofa doing anything

PR's Tumblrdome
Claire Keane

Discoholic 🪩
Xuebing Du
Show & Tell

roma★
NASA
ojovivo

Janaina Medeiros
Cosimo Galluzzi
we're not kids anymore.

No title available
noise dept.
trying on a metaphor

Kaledo Art
No title available

No title available

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Myanmar (Burma)
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Iraq

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Brazil
@thekingsarchive
♱ nineteen | she/her | going through an obsession
—I have lately began obsessing over this man and I decided to make a König archive of the posts I'm reading and such, I also write my thoughts about him. Enjoy.
—Masterlist.
Secretary!Reader who's single and incredibly anxious about nearing her 30s and not having a partner who could give her the one thing she so desperately wants - a baby.
You've tried Tinder, blind dates - hell, even visited a psychic to see whether the right man will ever appear in your life, but all you learned is that apparently you should avoid large bodies of water and if another one of your plants dies, it means you have an evil spirit in your house. Whatever. Thirty dollars down the drain and countless dates later, you make peace with the fact you'll die alone and childless. Sure, you've considered the IVF treatment a few times, but the thought of putting stranger's semen in you made you queasy, as it would be impossible to gauge what qualities could your offspring inherit. Nope, better make peace with being a crazy old cat lady.
You're so busy with your job anyway, working as a secretary for KorTac - specifically for Colonel König. He's not at all a bad boss, doesn't ask for much, just for you to do your job and make him a coffee in the morning with an amount of sugar that would kill a horse. He doesn't talk to you much either, just a polite "Guten Morgen" and "Auf Wiedersehen", the occasional "bless you" if you sneeze. Overall, just a quiet, ordinary guy...
...is what you thought until you found a sex toy under his desk. You swear you weren't snooping! You simply entered his office before he arrived to put the coffee cup on the desk and accidentally knocked one of his pens off. When you crouched to pick it up, you froze - taped to the underside of the desk was a fleshlight, and by the specks of dry cum around the entrance, you guessed it was used pretty frequently. You dashed out and nearly ran straight into him, a scream dying in your throat as you choked out something about his coffee being inside.
You spend the rest of your day hunching behind your desk just so you don't have to accidentally make eye contact with him. You're not quite sure what to think of it - you never thought your boss could be so...nasty. It was no wonder a man of his size undoubtedly had a large libido too, but at work?! You try not to think about how many times he's fucked that toy while you sat just outside his door, blissfully unaware of his perverted activities. But as the picture of his milky cum became more vivid in your mind, a rotten seed began blooming between the crevices of your brain, corrupting the part which was supposed to keep you rational and free of such a twisted idea that currently took residence in the forefront of your head.
He's a big guy.
He looks...potent.
Very potent.
You don't act immediately - no, instead, you watch. Carefully, like a prey animal looking for signs of danger. But it's not you who's being hunted - it's him. You take your time analysing every little detail about him: how he holds himself, how he treats others, all the ways his Atlantic blues crinkle behind his hood. You alter your routine; you begin bringing him coffee only after he's arrived and sat down, using the opportunity to make small talk with him, asking about the weather and whatnot. And while he definitely noticed the deviation, he doesn't comment on it, merely entertains your sudden, suspicious desire to interact with him.
Brief exchange of words about weather gradually turns into conversations about hobbies, habits and family. The last one, especially, is of great interest to you. You gently pry your way into his privacy, specifically his health, slowly collecting information about whether his family has any conditions or hereditary traits. His Oma has type 1 diabetes. His father had freckles and so does he. Twins are common in the family on his mother's side. He has a terrible sweet tooth. You store all of the information away, purchase a pipette and wait.
The moment comes on Wednesday at 12:30 o'clock, after you've been straining your ears for a few minutes already, listening to the faintest of his groans and then the final creak of his leather chair as he leans back after another intensive "session". You wait for him to walk out and nod your way before heading for lunch. You nod back, remain in your seat exactly ten seconds after he closes the door and then bolt into his office like your own seat is on fire.
You skitter to his desk, kneel so fast your joints crack and promptly flush when you see the abused fleshlight leaking with his spunk, fresh and creamy, waiting for you. Your hands tremble as you draw the semen into the pipette, eyes constantly flashing to the door even if you know König won't be back for at least another twenty minutes. Still, you make a quick work of it and just as you're about to get up, you pause, gaze lingering on the cum still oozing from the silicone slit.
It's not weird if noone sees you, right?
Cursing yourself, you lean in and give it a quick lick, eyes fluttering at the overwhelming saltiness of it. You make a mental note to make him drink more water.
You slip out of the office and head for lunch as well, pretending you're not carrying your boss's DNA in the pocket of your skirt. The very same evening, you nervously (and amateurishly) inseminate yourself, stubbornly ignoring the nagging little voice that keeps screaming at you that you're a horrible person. And though it's probably right, nothing can compare to the joy you feel when you see the two pink lines on the pee-stick only two weeks later.
Colonel König... Sweet, innocent König - except not at all. Under the (literal) mask, there's always a flutter of pale lashes and cheeks dusted pink reserved for whenever he walks by you, his sweet little secretary. However, his thoughts are far from pure; each time he slips into his office and finds a cup of hot coffee already waiting for him, he gets hard as a rock. Did he assign this duty to you? Yes. Is he still going to view it as you taking care of him out of the goodness of your heart? Also yes.
His little bird, his Schatzi, always on time and so responsible, so kind and smart and yet so, so clueless it's adorable and frustrating at the same time. Why do you torture him, Liebchen? Why won't you look at him for more than just a fleeting second? Have you caught a glance of what's under his hood? He's not even that ugly! He is.
Truth be told, he's been obsessed with you since day one. How could he not be? You were a woman not only competent, but beautiful as well, so much so he couldn't help but think you must have been made for him. He'd take advantage of the fact you rarely made eye contact to blatantly stare at your cleavage, so supple and soft. If only you'd undo one more button of that blouse! If he wasn't staring at your boobs, he'd ogle your ass, so voluptuous and juicy, the lack of panty-line making him suspect you went commando under that. Or maybe you were a thong girl? Whatever was the case, he was always grateful for the desk hiding his raging boner. And don't even get him started on your pudgy belly and just how many times he imagined filling it with his cum.
Despite his admiration, he knew little about you; you were as private as he was, if not more. To him, the mystery just added to your allure. It gave him plenty of room to idolize you, to silently worship you from distance, his unreachable Engel. He spent many nights wondering whether he should ask you out. Gott, he wanted to so badly, but each time he chickened out. A man of his size and standing, a human battering ram of whose every inch has been bathed in enemy blood - scared of being rejected by his work crush. He felt like a coward, but as long as you didn't have a ring on your finger, he was content with simply watching you and secretly fucking his fleshlight to porn of women who vaguely looked like you, his favourites saved in a folder directly in his work computer.
That was, until you started gaining weight. Not that he minded - he'd never complain about a woman having a lot of meat on her bones. At first, he thought the long hours of sitting at work and sweet pastry for snacks was starting to catch up with you, making your curves even more pronounced than before which doubled the fleshlight's daily usage. But then he started noticing other things; how you switched to a different flavour of tea because your favourite suddenly smelled acrid to you, how headaches became an everyday occurance and the total amount of time you spent in the bathroom quickly became equal to the amount of time you spent working. Subsequently, your little morning chats were cut short by nausea.
He quickly grew worried about you. He started leaving little things on your desk whenever he passed by - glass of water, painkillers, candy - whatever he could think of that he could drop off fast enough and bolt away without an explanation. No matter how much he wished to, he just couldn't bring himself to talk to you about your troubles directly; scared he'd come off as nosy, weird or pushy. A man his age, sticking his nose in the business of a young sweet thing. He doubted you'd be amused. Still, you seemed to accept his little gifts, and that was enough for him...
...but then you put in a request for maternity leave. He stares at the form with a blank expression. You're saying something, but the words don't reach him through the blood thrumming in his ears. He can see you starting to squirm, unnerved by his silence. His blues travel from the form to your eyes and then down to your belly, staring at it like it personally offended him that the child inside you wasn't his.
"...Congratulations," he croaks out unenthusiastically while signing the form. You don't seem to mind though, no - you look so happy it makes his heart ache, so excited to bring a new life into this world and be a mama. How could he ever be mad at you?
"I can't wait," you chirp. "I already started shopping for baby clothes, they're quite expensive so I'm not sure how I'll pull off everything alone-"
König pauses, the tip of the pen pressed against the paper so hard it leaves a smudge.
Alone? Alone?!
"No boyfriend? No husband?" he questions, eyes narrowing as he sets the pen down.
You clasp your hands together and nervously fiddle with your fingers. Your eyes flash to the left while you mumble:
"No, no boyfriend or husband. It was, uh...a one-night stand."
"And the man simply... doesn't want to be involved?" he asked, slowly rising to loom above you, the nervous energy he usually carried around you gone.
You gulp and murmur "something like that".
"I see," König replies and then, calm as an Englishman, asks:
"Would you like to marry me then?"
Your jaw drops and in spite of his heart hammering against his ribcage, he can't help but smirk a little under the hood, all while you're pretty sure you heard him wrong.
"Excuse me?"
"You know, for financial security and such," he clarifies, as if that somehow made the proposal perfectly normal.
"Little one will need a father."
And I've always wanted a child.
He's expecting you to immediately reject him, perhaps run out screaming or throw something in his face, but you're silent, as if you're really considering it...
"You see, I don't have children of my own," he adds, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"I have a house which is too big, too empty for me only."
He steps closer to you, more confident now and yet still somehow vulnerable as he puts his hands on your shoulders and rubs them gently.
"I have a garden too," he continues, eyes pleading.
"And a car. You wouldn't have to go to appointments alone. Or the shops. You could have your own room - I could redo one of the guest ones for you! I could provide for you, I could take care of you, I could- I could-"
He pauses when he notices the tears in your eyes and his heart sinks.
Has he said something wrong?!
"You would do all that?" you choke out.
"For me?"
He sighs in relief and nods.
"Ja, for you. For your little one."
His eyes flick down to your bump, softening as he thinks about the opportunity of raising a child with you - now quite in the way he imagined, but he'd take this over nothing.
"A man who leaves a woman with his child without any intention of any kind of involvement is not a man to me," he states with a quiet firmness, something darker flashing behind his blues before they soften again. He brings his hand up to your cheek and wipes a tear away with his thumb, voice gentle when he speaks again.
"So? What do you say?"
And thus, a mere month later, you find yourself at the start of your second trimester and in a strange arrangement: not engaged (yet), but introduced as his wife anyway, living in his house but treated like YOU own the place, and being eaten away by guilt while you watch your boss fuss over what he thinks is the unborn child of a stranger, but is actually his own seed growing in your womb.
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masterlist
a/n: oOF that was longer than I wanted it to be and I still have a bit more to add, so if anyone is interested in part 2, let me know (and please don't mind the mistakes, I've written this over the course of several late evenings 🙏🏼).
Also, I'd like to apologize for disappearing for so long, but life has been very busy lately - I started my second year at uni, got a new job, became an aunt and unfortunately lost my dear pet to cancer. But as a part of coping (and avoiding studying for finals, teehee), I've been thinking about getting into writing again, as I've never really stopped loving it, I just didn't feel like I had enough time or motivation to do so. But I promise you I've been lurking around here, just among the readers.
I hope everyone is having lovely holidays and is excited for a new year full of new opportunities and experiences! Until next time...
- ellie/shroompette 💞
I love every detail of this 🙏🙏🙏
We do need more 'they deserve eachother' situations in fanfics and this is so messed up yet so funny? I need 76200 parts of boss to unconsensual father to actually obsessed boss to husband out of 'need' to lovers
I would rather see a half-assed drawing with wobbly anatomy, bad color theory, bad lineart, and ugly background over generative ai ""art"" any day
scratch that last post he just wanted to play in the fields:3
-
always need my balance between scary fella and not so scary fella
The Magic of Kibtys
König is a Cat Dad. Source: me and other people that hc as a Cat Dad or a lover of small tiny creatures . But seriously though, König gives off Cat Dad vibes. Like you know that guy is such pussy magnet. A shame that it doesn't attract the kind of pussy that he sometimes craves. But hey, KITTIES!!! He doesn't have game but maybe the reason why he is maidenless is because he is the maiden. A Disney Princess even. A not-so-great childhood and probably a great yearning for love, warmth, happiness, and tender loving care which is probably why he kidnaps his obsession in all those yandere fics that I eat up
100% agree
Committing gluttony
Driving Kidnapper!König insane with how obsessed you are with him (pt 2)
Tw: kidnapping (obviously), obsessive behavior, trivializing of serious problems, rom-com environment for a crime lmao
Virgin!König is fucking ravenous. Joining the military at 17 and generally being unpleasant didn't give him many options, always focusing on pushing his body to the limit rather than trying to find something to fuck. He can't handle rejection— it's too much for him. He's too prideful, too intense.
Virgin!König is a fucking loser. He doesn't know if he's looking too deep into it when you willingly start to spend more time alone with him, always touching a part of him no matter what. He excuses himself to the bathroom when you put your hand on his thigh, trying his best to make his boner go down, yet no matter what, his fat cock stays up until he jerks off.
Once you break down his walls and get him to fuck you? Poor you.
König jackhammers his meaty cock into you at a punishing rhythm, letting you feel every single inch of his hard dick. He's too big, crushing you down with his massive body yet too pussy-drunk to even realize. The only thing he can feel is your cunt wrapping perfectly around him, his leaking tip slamming into your spongy cervix every single time.
Needy, open-mouthed kisses are planted all over your neck before he goes down, desperately latching onto one of your nipples to muffle his embarrassingly high-pitched whimpers.
His thrusts are nothing short of brutal, using your much smaller body as a fleshlight, mind too hazy to focus on anything other than using your little hole to make himself cum.
His tongue circles your nipple before he starts suckling into it again, desperately trying to go deeper even when the entrance of your cervix is stopping him. His hips crash against yours, jackhammering into you without care until he's able to slam his cock as deep inside of you as possible, shooting ropes of thick, white cum right into your fertile, needy womb.
He's not embarrassed about cumming fast, already feeling his cock harden into your cunt, ready for another round.
Manhandled
I just colored my old work
Yumm
Driving kidnapper!König insane with how obsessed you are with him
i love this concept!! usually kidnapping aus stress me out and i can’t read them, but this is such a nice change of pace from how they usually go!! would love more parts to this!!!! 🩷
I feel you, I like a good thriller once in a while, but sometimes you need stuff that's a little more silly and easy to digest
Driving kidnapper!König insane with how obsessed you are with him
Tw: kidnapping (obviously), obsessive behavior, trivializing of serious problems, rom-com environment for a crime lmao
Visuals of the cozy basement:
‧₊˚☾.⋅ Oct. 3rd | König
— pairing: König x fem!Reader
— cw/tw: 18+ | dead dove:do not eat; obsession; delusion; forced proximity; smut; somnophilia; noncon; (wc: 5.7k)
Please note that this is part of Kinktober. Some things are not tagged to avoid spoilers. Read at own risk .ᐟ
Call of Spooky 2025 Masterlist
*The graffiti says No curse is worse than love.
König watches, watches, watches.
And when his duties keep him from watching, then he dreams about you.
Driving kidnapper!König insane with how obsessed you are with him
I'll put the needed tws and make a part two tomorrow, I'm sleepy
Driving kidnapper!König insane with how obsessed you are with him
Tw: kidnapping (obviously), obsessive behavior, trivializing of serious problems, rom-com environment for a crime lmao
𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙?..
What if I say I'm waiting for him with cookies and milk like he's Santa? 👉👈🥺
My default reader is a cis female because, well, I am (it's more complicated than that but irrelevant.) But what I write, unless explicitly stated, can be interpreted as gender neutral in general.
I was rereading this post I made and realized that I used "wifey" to refer to reader, and realized that, honestly? Wifey is a gender neutral term when it comes to König.
Let me explain: König is very traditional and will unashamedly seek out to recreate traditional wife-husband dynamics, regardless if he's in a het relationship or not. He'll call you his wife, no matter your identity.
And it's not even to emasculate you, if you're a man or male-leaning in your gender identity; you could be just as beefy as him, be topping him every night and he'll still call you wifey if he's the one providing for you (or will think about that way, if you don't want him to keep calling you that.)
In my opinion, he wouldn't have a problem with being the wife if for some reason you come to the situation where you're the breadwinner and he's staying home. (This unless we're talking about kidnapper/lovesick König, ofc.)
I don't know. He just gives me massive "I want to be a husband" vibes.
Stalker!König x sick reader, inspired by this drabble by @thekingsarchive
Stalker!König who didn't intend to reveal himself to his pretty little liebling yet. After all, he hadn't finished preparing all the supplies he'd need to keep them in his cabin. A new pet wasn't a short-term commitment, after all.
But you were sick. Too sick to take care of yourself, poor thing. When you'd first fallen ill, König had watched anxiously through the cameras he'd installed in your apartment as you stumbled around, getting yourself juice and heating up canned soup on the stove. He'd already had to slip into the apartment while you were asleep once, to make sure you'd turned off the stove burners. It was a good thing he had, Liebling. You'd left the heat on, the broth long boiled away, bits of noodle and chicken scorched black on the bottom of the pan. You didn't even know how much danger you could have been in if he wasn't here to protect you- that's what distressed König most. But you were in no shape for a scolding. He'd wanted to carry you away right then, tuck you into bed in his cabin and lavish you with care like you deserved, but he'd held back. He reminded himself adoptions should never be made hastily, that he needed to wait until everything was in place.
He'd contended himself with cleaning up the mess you had made in the kitchen, waiting until you were deep asleep to sneak to your bedside, replace all your empty glasses with fresh water and juice, making sure you had snacks and medicine within reach.
It took another day and a half before he broke. König had watched through the cameras as you got sicker and sicker. You had long since downed the fluids he had left for you, even nibbled on a few of the crackers he put out. But in the following day, you didn't get up to get more. Just laid in bed, sleeping for hours and hours. He could see very little of you, pitiful little lump you were under the covers, but even so he could see your form trembling as chills rocked through you once again.
"Come on, Liebling." He begged you through the the screen of his phone, comically small in his massive hands. "Get up. You need food and water if you ever want to get better."
His own words surprised him. König hadn't begged for anything since he was a small child. What were you doing to him, Liebling? Ultimately, that's what decided him. He might not have been completely prepared for you, but you clearly needed him in this moment- even more than he needed you.
His heart raced with excitement as he made some final adjustments to the supplies he had gathered for when he collected his pet. He would be there to nurse you back to health soon, Liebling.
Part 2 coming sooner rather than later given that I've been writing these instead of my essays for finals
Me when König acts both like a lovesick fool and your owner 😩😩😩 I absolutely love this