morning ☀️
overly proud 💚
Can I PLEASE, please have a drunk!reader x König? I beg.
König is a homebody. He enjoys long naps, working out in the garage and drinking beers on the porch. On the other hand, you are outgoing. You enjoy having brunch with your girlies, exercising at a gym and drinking at clubs. So the only reason König goes out is when you go out.
König becomes the sniper he always wanted to be when he comes with you to the club. Posted up on the second floor, beer in hand, lounging on a worn leather couch with an unobstructed view of the dance floor. His gaze never leaving you like a hawk.
Even though crowds and loud popular music ain't his thing, König almost insists in coming with you to make sure you are safe. Plus, he likes seeing you happy and having a blast. Even in the sea of people, he can still watch you dancing with your friends, fruity cocktail in hand, swaying with the rhythm, a picture of unfiltered joy.
Then, he sees him.
A random, stumbling drunk approaching you like a sneaky shark in musky waters. König’s fingers tighten around his beer as he straightens, muscles coiled like a loaded spring. He watches as the man reaches you and tries to dance behind you. You panicked and try to move away from him, pushing him by the chest.
That's enough.
“Go away!” Your voice cuts through the music, but the man is too far gone to register the warning. Your head spinning by the alcohol and looking your boyfriend frenetically.
You stumble back, disoriented, until you meet a solid wall—not of concrete, but of flesh. A sigh of relief escapes you as you tilt your head up, met with the reassuring sight of your boyfriend’s towering frame. Before you can say a word, his hands find your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You turn to him to hug him tight as well.
“My king!” You muffled against his shirt.
König doesn't need to say a word, his dangerous presence and killer glare are enough to make this man stutter an apology and scatter away, tail tucked between his legs. König smirks, amused, before looking down to find you kneading at his pecs like a contented cat making biscuits.
“Squishy…” You hum with a dumb, drunk smile on your face. Not giving a single fuck of what just happened.
König chuckles, patting your head. “You good?”
“Never been better,” you answered before shoving your face in between his pecs with a happy sigh.
He simply smiles, holding you close as the night carries on, his silent vow of protection spoken through the warmth of his embrace.
A/N: Thanks for the request! <3
Masterlist.
HEAT STROKE HINATA
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Hand study with Sukuna
i think it's good to remember sometimes that at their core they're all fucking idiots
3 year Yachi 💪🏻⭐️
Yachi’s design deadlines 😩