flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund - Tumblr blog

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 4 months

Text

Yandere Headcanons of Kratos

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about liking the different sex (male), kidnapping, forced affection, and mention of killing (duh).

A/N: yeah, I started writing this, and now it’s posted; I’d love requests from this man! This is written as the current Kratos (2022). Hope you enjoy <3!

@sakuracream, here it is!

He’s insanely protective, and just as possessive in the sense that everybody will know you are taken by his menacingly form standing behind you. He acts like a guard dog, always behind you with his resting face, ensuring that nobody disrespects you. But, he’s also caring in his own way.

It’s a slow burn with him. Kratos isn’t one for simply falling in love with someone, especially with the amount of guilt, shame, and fear he carries each day of his life. He’s lost so many, and doesn’t want to get attached again. Even if he admits it or not, Kratos suffers from abandonment + trust issues. There’s a lack of consistency in his life from as far back as he can remember. So, when first meeting you, it’s harsh.

The meetings of you two are likely between Atreus. You could be a sorcerer they ran into on a late evening, Atreus quickly becoming on good terms with you; begging for you to help him with certain topics, or teaching him things of magick.

You could be a blacksmith, Sindri making you two meet as his rather permanent weapon needs help. Or, in an infrequent case, an enemy turned into a good ally. Either way, opening up for him isn’t easy.

Again, it’s a slow burn. He slowly notices how you make him feel — and it irks him. He doesn’t like feeling fear when he loses sight of you, or when you mumble to yourself, he hates feeling jealousy on not being able to hear what you’re saying. It’s difficult for him to analyze his emotions, and with you being near him most of the time, he’s unsure how to approach you, especially if you’re of the different sex. His heart naturally flutters when you talk, his go-to responses of grunts or silence of listening current. Hands sweat when you nudge his shoulder or accidentally bump into him. To you, he’s a tough nut. But underneath all that, he’s analyzing his emotions better; looking at you with love.

Little by little, it starts with him writing in his journal about you. Descriptions of your characteristics, your likes & dislikes, how you two interact, how close you are to Atreus, and how your habits work; which he describes are quite adorable. This often leads to him stalking you, looking at you when you aren’t paying attention, and reading/and learning your body language like his backhand. It only adds to his adoration towards you, if by chance, you’re a motherly figure to his son.

With this and interacting with him for a long period of time on a daily basis, Kratos, at some point, lowers his guard — especially if Atreus openly says he trusts you.

And just like a snap of fingers, he prioritizes you. Actively looking at you when you aren’t around. Asking the others if he’d seen you; quickly shutting the conversation down if Atreus or Mimir ask what’s with him. Small touches are guaranteed, a hand guiding you on your lower back. Fingers ‘accidentally’ nudging to yours when you’re beside each other. Grabbing you by the waist to help you climb on rocks. Or teaching you factors of hunting that he knows you’ll enjoy doing.

At this point, he’s already attached, far too North. It’s a perfect family, is it not? You aren’t going anywhere without him. He’s fallen for you, quite hard. The rope has snapped, and you’ll be his.

This said, kidnapping is ensured. It’ll start slow at first, Kratos keeping you a bit longer at home so you can get used to it. He often invites you for supper and dinner; making stew, or having deer. He engages with small talk, admiring you and his son. Slowly but surely, he adds things inside the cabin that he knows you’ll like — shelves of books and poems, more blankets, clothes of your liking, and many items of those hobbies of yours. Atreus adds in too, gifting and creating you things with your thoughts in vain.

It is, until, one day, you’re permanently kept into the house. Once you try to leave, your smile goes away as you realize he’s blocking your way to the door — ordering you to sit back down. Depending on your reaction, he’s equally stronger than you are, and already has you sitting down, either with his strength or voice. If he needs to, he will chain you; he’s determined on not losing anybody close to him again.

The mere idea of losing you sends him into a panicked state, to which, he’s forced the option for you to stay here, forever.

Life in Midgard with Kratos is rather isolated — even though he doesn’t mean to. He loves you, and often fears the worst scenarios, which means everywhere you go, even to see an old-friend, he’s there with a possessive grip.

Within the stand of home, Kratos tries to make it cozy, and to your liking; adding things to make sure your ‘stay’ is more comfortable. He adds many blankets to the shared bed as needed to keep you warm, even though he’s a lava himself. Every night, he makes delicious food, and often tells you to retire everything to him as he promises to take care of you.

Affection is hard for him to express — especially with words, so he’s more passionate within his actions. If you two are out in public, he will be touching you one way or another; he has a fear that you’ll leave him, which makes him quite clingy. A hand on your hip, pinky-interlocking-pinky, or if he’s feeling threatened, he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you into him. If he’s not directly by your side, rest assured that he will be glaring at anyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

In private, it’s worse. He’s practically glued to your side, and if you’re sitting down, you better believe he’s scooching you closer to his body, and making you sit in/or between his lap.

Despite his ‘distant’ and gruff answers, he pays attention to the littlest things and wants to make you happy. Despite his possessiveness, If you mention missing your homeland, Kratos will wake you up early the next morning, take you to fatherland and let you visit for a short period of time; a large hand wrapped around yours the whole time.

Pass-to-conversation that you need more items for your certain hobby? He’s heading down to the trading posts at the butt-of-dawn, actively looking for what you said, and bringing it home with a grunt of, “Here.”

At some point in the future, he’d love to have a bigger family. The thought of having another kid, possibly a daughter, makes his heart flutter and a small smile widen. Though, if you’re of the different sex/or cannot get pregnant, he’s open to adopting or simply just having you and Atreus.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

903 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 6 months

Photo

Sirin and Alkonost The Birds of Joy and Sorrow, 1896 - oil on canvas. — Viktor Vasnetsov (Russian, 1848-1926)

13K notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 7 months

Text

@frogchiro, @mommy-vampire and @pink-apollo‘s beautiful, jawdropping and MARVELOUS drabbles/headcanons inspired this one.

NO idea who came up with this in the first place but since I read all your posts I still wanted to tag you anyway- I present to you:

Octo!König 🐙✨

The second Y/N takes octo!König off their chest:

(also a questionable drawing of octo!König having the time of his life on a tit somewhere 👏)

Full sketch spread under the cut

799 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 7 months

Text

Eukaryotic cell gang!! We love women in STEM.

The organelles of the cells have been translated into human anatomy, so the nucleus is the brain, the vacuole function as the lungs, and the mitochondria is the heart since it’s the… you already know, I don’t have to say it ;)

116K notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 8 months

Text

#call of duty #cod: mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #female reader

49 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 8 months

Note

Why do you have 'white' in your bio? Did anyone ever assume otherwise? I mean, you're German...

To be honest, to the moment of time I wrote my bio, I wasn't quite sure what exactly it supposed to say, so I looked at other's bios and found out, that people tend to write about sexual preferences, ethnicity, age and pronounces sooo yeah.

And yeah - not everyone who lives in Germany and call themselves German are white. Sounds strange, but it is. So it was important for me to say that I'm a native (or white/native) German.

2 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 9 months

Text

Rated L for Lewd.

BT-7274 x Reader Headcanons

This follows the campaign - the idea that Reader replaces Jack Cooper's role and BT uploaded himself to their helmet, and thus, eventually, a new body.

SFW

- Extremely protective of you. Will not, under any circumstances, allow you out of his sensor range if he can plan around it. Being away from you is anxiety-inducing.

- Occasionally refers to you as 'my Pilot,' instead of Pilot. The increased blood flow to your face is noticed and desired.

- BT is ecstatic when you refer to him as a friend or companion, even more when you call him 'Buddy'. BT would like it even more to be 'life companion' or, perhaps, the new one he's indexed - 'best friends with benefits'.

- BT is one hundred percent in love with you. Admiration, attraction, devotion, respect. You are both in love with each other if his calculated examinations of your every word and movement is correct (it is).

- Will call you 'my Pilot' around others to assert himself. Reactions of those around you are entirely disregarded, although he will restrict himself if it were to be tactically disadvantageous to whatever the mission may be.

- Often asks you what figures of speech mean. He finds that asking you engages with you more. Why look it up? Your conversational engagement is always desired.

- When there is no current mission to uphold, he defaults to the mission of bonding with you... consequences of this were probably unforeseen.

NSFW

- BT desperately wants to care for you; let him gently get you off, let him bond with you. Mating with his Pilot is the best way to make them release oxytocin and become bonded closer to him. Or, at least, that's what he's come up with as a reason to finally fuck you, warm blue optic staring into your eyes as he proposes you trust him.

- BT prefers to neurally link with you when you two 'mate'; he can feel your arousal when this occurs, allowing him to get off on it instead of just desire and enjoy it. The only issue is that this reinforces him to continue far past just one orgasm.

- The neurally-fed sensation of you being overstimulated is immensely satisfying to him. It also makes him feel the closest he can get to overloading, which means he adores overstimulating you. Orgasm torture makes the Pilot release more oxytocin!

- Every sound you make is just more reason for him to continue. They're intoxicating, addicting to a mind that craves your pleasure - he sees it as a sign of closeness, of just how much you trust him. He's determined to get to the point where you'll come to him for stimulation.

142 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 9 months

Text

The Other Woman

john ‘soap’ mactavish x reader, simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader (unrequited love)

Summary: You and Soap slowly develop into something more than friendship, you fall in love. The problem is, Simon loves you too.

Contains: SFW, literally all angst, some cute parts with Soap obviously, descriptions of violence, yelling, dead bodies, and anything else COD related you can think of.

A/N: Soap needs some love too! This was really fun to make. I love basing oneshots off songs, this one is based on the other woman by queen lana del rey 💞(not completely proof read, mb 😍)

————————————————————————————

Let’s cut to the chase, you and Soap have been together for a while. Only recently though did you come clean about it to the rest of 141. The both of you were nervous that it wouldn’t be allowed, maybe you would get told that your relationship is too distracting for the two of you, making you unable to get the job done. Whatever that might be.

Price reacted completely different than you thought he would, congratulating the two of you for finding love, bits of teasing all around from the rest of the team came naturally as well. Teasing from everyone except Ghost. As soon as Soap broke the news, he went silent. Giving your newly made boyfriend a quick pat on the back and then passing by, making his was to the door. Your eyes followed his fleeting form as Johnny leaned down to make commentary on the situation.

“Has he got a stick up his arse?” Soap says in a light tone, whispering it specifically so nobody else would hear but you.

“Perhaps. Maybe he is just upset i got to you before he could.” You giggle back quietly. Soap chuckled under his breath before grabbing your hand and softly kissing the knuckle.

You smile brightly as he does so, soon excusing himself from the room and lightly jogging across the room to follow Ghost wherever he had gone.

The other woman has time to manicure her nails

You always admired Simon. The way he was so explicitly put together in regards to his weapons and materials. He trains regularly, always making time to clean his guns, sharpen his knives, and you have even seen him shine his shoes in the past. At one point you could have sworn you saw an array or acrylic paint bottles and paint brushes all over his private desk in his office. But, you might be wrong. In all, you wish you could have his time management skills.

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails

On a rather foggy day you had also watch Soap and Ghost spar. This most definitely impressed you, seeing as Simon immediately had Soap on his ass. Throughout the whole session, you could’ve sworn you saw him glance at you, with eyes searching for approval every time he landed an ending hit on Soap. You didn’t pay mind to it though. Laughing at your boyfriend’s irritated excuses on how he was rusty, tired, and the reason he tripped over his own feet was because his boots were untied. They were not.

And she's never seen with pin curls in her hair, anywhere

“How come you never smile?” You had asked him, trailing him like a dog during one of the many missions you had been assigned to with him.

“I do.” He replies. Looking back at you briefly before settling down on the roof top with his sniper rifle.

You laid down next to him, ready to take down anyone that came onto the roof with plans to attack you both. Removing your pistol from your belt, you scooted up a bit to a half sitting position with your head using the wall for complete support. Turning your head to look at Ghost, you asked another question.

“And your mask? How come you never take it off?” You curiously questioned. Eyebrows raising slightly as you awaited his response.

“Classified. Apologies, sergeant.” He says, looking at you through his peripheral vision.

“You’re no fun!” You pout, crossing your arms and turning away from him. You pursed lips almost immediately being replaced by a toothy smile.

He notices this, but gets back to work. Focusing on the task at hand rather than the woman he would do anything for. Let’s just say it was a bit hard to do so.

The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume

“We were just on the field. How does he smell so fresh?” Soap comments, walking along side you while you wipe your bloody knife off on your pants.

“He showers whenever he can. I wish i showered as much as he did. Then i wouldn’t smell like shit everyday.” You mumble the last sentence. Fake jealousy lacing your voice as your boyfriend put his arm around your shoulders.

“I think you smell fantastic. But you should shower, with me this time sweetheart.” He looks down at you and winks with a grin spread across his face.

Your cheeks flush as you shake him off and start to walk faster towards the safe house. Smiling to himself, Soap follows suit.

The other woman keeps fresh-cut flowers in each room

“You lot are pigs.” Simon states, gruffly, as he begins to pick up the dirty clothes and garbage that lace the floor of the base.

You have noticed this about his. He is constantly searching for something to do. Price mentioned Ghost said he doesn’t want to be lazy. You think it’s something else. A distraction maybe. For what? You have no idea. That doesn’t mean you appreciate it less. After a long day of fighting the last thing you want to do is make your bed, clean up, and shower. Most times when you do return back, everyones cot is made nicely, things have been picked up, and the showers have been prepped for the stinking soldiers that will soon occupy them.

There are never toys that's scattered everywhere

No man left behind. It is a common saying in the army. At some level, there is a certain time when this mantra means nothing. Of course, everyone tries their best to have the backs of the people around them. But when you are holding on to someone as they hang from a speeding helicopter, you need to take into consideration that no matter what, it is necessary to put yourself first. Simon ignores that.

“If you keep holding on to me we will both fall!” You scream as your body hangs off the side of the helicopter. Ghost tightens his grip on your wrist.

“I am not letting you go!” He bellows, roughly pulling you back into the helicopter. It had shifted slightly, giving him a perfect opportunity to launch you back onto somewhat solid ground

“Thank you!” You say after a couple minutes, adrenaline starting to slow. You look at him as you quickly wipe your leaking eyes. He just nods in confirmation that he heard you before staring out into the sky.

And when her old man comes to call

“Y/N and Ghost! Get packed up. I’m sending you to Dublin. I need you to clear up some loose ends and gather the information that was stolen from us. Here is everything you need to know.” Laswell states as she hands Simon a folder, walking away after doing so.

You both nod your heads in agreement and begin packing. It was an unusual announcement, seeing as usually everyone on the team has a place on the field. But whatever, you will get this done quickly your the combination of skill sets you both possess.

When you are both done packing, you say a quick goodbye to Soap. Kissing him softly on the lips before getting onto the plane.

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen

It had been a couple hours since you arrived in Dublin. You set up your posts quickly. Occasionally participating in banter with Ghost as you wait for the targets to appear. You were waiting on the low level roof of an apartment building. The darkness covering you completely. Ghost was down below, waiting to take out the expected armed soldiers protecting your targets.

The plan was you snipe the targets and Ghost kills the guards. Easy enough. How wrong you were. After a couple minutes of radio silence, you call out to Ghost using the walkie talkie you were given.

“Ghost, how copy?” You whisper into the device. Continuing to look through the scope of your gun.

A couple minutes go by before you ask once again;

“Ghost. How. Copy.” You question, more firmly than last time.

A bad feeling arose in your gut after the 6th minute waiting for his response. You jump up quickly, pushing yourself through the open window you entered to reach the position on the roof, and slid against the wall all the way until you reached the room where Ghost was supposed to be. Knife in hand, you kick down the door. Eyes widening as you finally react to the situation in front of you.

Ghost. Surrounded by 8 bodies in a pool of blood. Out of the 8, two of the were the men you were sent to kill. At first it looks like some of it is Ghosts blood, but you realize he is actually fidgeting with his walkie, trying to do what you would assume is fix it.

“Simon!” You shout as you enter. “Are you hurt? What happened!” He looks at you before raising the dead communicator in his hands.

'Cause to be by her side

It's such a change from old routine

“It wont work. Dunno what happened.” He says as he tosses it to you. Standing up as he does so, using the wall as support.

“Bloody fucking hell.” You mutter, turning around with Ghost following you. Closing the door behind him he whispers a quick ‘apologies sergeant’ thinking you wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. You do.

“It’s fine. You are lucky i’m so brave, coming to find you like a good girl.” You say as you turn around grinning. Tossing him back the once broken device that you fixed.

He grabs it and attaches it back to his vest. Following you up the stairs as you both exit the building and call for an escort back to base.

“Good girl you are, Y/N.” He says, almost completely silently. This time, you don’t hear him.

But the other woman will always cry herself to sleep

“Because i love her!” Simon screams back at Soap. Eyes widening in the words he had just spoke.

Soap looked at him funny, chuckled before turning his head slightly to the side.

“What?” He says. Tightening his first until his knuckles turned white.

Ghost doesn’t know what to say after that. Nobody says anything after that. The two of them unknowingly stand there as you cover your mouth behind the door of the base. You had went to follow Soap after being bombarded with questions from Price and Gaz. Your eyes begin to water as you realize how serious this actually was. You didn’t know what to do.

The other woman will never have his love to keep

You step out from behind the wall, lowering your hands and locking eyes with Ghost. You watch as his eyes widen even more. He turns away, fast. You begin chasing after him.

“Simon!” You squeak running past your boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous of your actions. He knew that the two of you had a great friendship, he knew how this would effect it. He trusted you. So he walked away and went back inside.

And as the years go by, the other woman

Will spend her life alone

As soon as you caught up with Ghost you grabbed his arm, spinning him around so you could fully look at him. You didn’t know it, but he was sweating like crazy. You were the first person he had loved romantically in a long time. He yearned for you. He dreamt of you. He was totally in love with you and he knew it. And now, you did too.

Alone.

“I can’t be with you.” You quickly blurt out. lowering your hand from his arm and breaking eye contact.

“I know.” He replies. Voice unwavering as he walks away from you again.

You want to tell him everything. You want to tell him how he could’ve been with you. You had liked him before you got with John. You really did. You didn’t notice all of his strange habits just for the fun of it. But you were with Soap now, and you really did love him. You had never been in a situation like this before and you didn’t really know what to do. This time, you let him walk away. Not before you caught him saying something else.

Alone.

“Apologies, sergeant.”

944 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 9 months

Text

UUUUUHH SIR?

#call of duty #cod: mwii #cod x reader #könig #könig x reader #cod konig

89 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 9 months

Text

octo!könig was very thankful after you saved him from getting eaten in a local seafood restaurant. Then he'll become clingy and won't let go off you even if you take shower. He can transform into a human as well. Like, one night, you're just changing in night clothes then you feel a strong arms wrapping on your small waist.

"W-what the... König?!"

"Mein Liebling."

Both of you just standing there awkwardly, König is too innocent and doesn't mind of being completely naked and you can feel his diiiick pressing against your back.

{ Sorry for my english. I'm not good at it!😭 }

312 notes · View notes

flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund · 9 months

Text

"If you need to be mean"

Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3

König hates this fucking country.

Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out.

He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports.

Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers.

Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can.

— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report.

Gut.

A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t.

Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.

— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it?

— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew.

And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think.

— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…

Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now.

Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels.

König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…

Wait a minute.

He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander.

— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?

He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body.

The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person.

— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry.

You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies.

— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late?

Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty.

You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.

— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise.

Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself.

— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger.

— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently.

Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…

He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm.

— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew.

You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness.

— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise.

You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…

— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.

He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets.

You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply.

— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really.

— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous.

You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed.

You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t.

— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir.

— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.

— Sorry?

It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.

— Just show the way.

He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him.

He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him.

König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather.

He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years.

— You’re local.

It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.

— Lived here all my life, sir.

You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him.

— Where do you work?

It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared.

— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment.

You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers.

— Hm.

König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…

— We might need someone local to help with operations.

Nailed it. Right?

— Wh…what do you mean, sir?

You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…

— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here.

He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder.

— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job.

Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him.

— Are you sure?

You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country?

— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job.

He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course.

The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole.

— You live here?

— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry.

— No.

— What do you mean “No”?

Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again.

You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want.

— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live.

Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this.

— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage.

— Don’t you have another place to sleep?

He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead.

— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates.

He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent.

He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely.

— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you.

— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir.

Oh, but he wants to.

Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else.

— We’ll meet again.

You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time.

2K notes · View notes