[TW: rape, non-con, dark]
There's something about stray dog's behavior that speaks König to me.
He'd been kicked around, ridiculed, and left on the cold pavement alone. He had no real house, and had to beg even for a scrap of food. Those were the factors that forced him to grow teeth way earlier—and sharper—than he's supposed to.
He'd held the bitterness in his heart, causing him to despise the weak, the poor who couldn't stand up for themselves. The perfect replica of his past self.
He hated seeing them, he'd even go as far as 'taking care' of them. Letting them know that no one would help them, no one would come to the rescue. Just like what people did to him back then.
He recognizes his contribution to the vicious circle, yet he finds himself helpless as he's unable to break free from it.
Perhaps that's when God decided to punish him for it.
There's a mission that required him to work together with the other team, and met with the reprisal for his bad deed, in the form of a medic.
He didn't spare a glance at her, didn't acknowledge her existence, until she defended her patients in front of him.
One of the missions went wrong, causing the soldiers to be injured by gunshots and a grenade. It was theirs to blame, because they didn't pay attention enough, but she shouted at him, telling him if he'd given them a deserved break, it would've been avoided.
He, of course, was angry at her.
He told her she didn't know anything, that she's hindering the mission. But she didn't flinch, even when he growled at her.
It frustrated him, because even his glare would send his soldiers running. Yet it didn't work on her. The people who's not afraid of him are usually those in power, but she isn't one of them. She's just a mere medic.
He tried to kick her out of the team, but the higher ups told him that there's no one available for her replacement. He also tried to make her quit, but what he did came back around to him, as he received a penalty.
It stresses him out, to the point that he'd overwork himself to distract him from his thoughts.
One day, a bullet passes through his heart and lungs, causing him to collapse on the spot.
In daze, when his consciousness slips in and out, he thinks how he could've easily avoided it. But his body wasn't listening to him, delaying his feet to move back.
In what feels like months, he opens his eyes for the first time after the incident.
What he sees, is a pale light on the ceiling, and a blurry figure by the bed.
And there she stands, just like the angel of mercy.
She doesn't say much, except for telling him to rest, and that he's lucky he survived.
She tells him the same thing for days, before he can muster two words out of his mouth.
Shut up.
And strangely, she smiles.
"Seems like you've recovered well." She responded, "Welcome back."
She continues to nurse him, despite his snarky remarks that she easily deflects. She takes care of him with patience that should've withered away from the moment she joined the army.
It shouldn't have bloomed in front of him.
For the first time in his life, he feels the weight of his guilt on his chest. He could've been kinder, could've been softer, and he would've broken the cycle just like she did. But he chose to nurture his anger—just like his father, and his father's father.
Then again, she could've gotten it easy from the start. Though in his heart, he knew it's just an excuse for his behavior.
The day he's permitted to work again, he left without saying thank you.
At night, he wonders if she'd come to hate him as well. No one would blame her if she does, but deep in his heart, he hopes she doesn't.
Since that day, he has followed her like a lost dog. But he would turn his head away whenever she looked at him.
Sometimes he scoffs at himself for thinking about injuring himself, just so he could receive her care. Yet he couldn't help but panting at her feet, lapping up every little conversation they made. He wants to surrender himself to her, letting her put a collar around him and call him hers.
And it's all because she showed just a little kindness to him.
On lonely missions, or lonely nights, he often imagines what they could be. Living in the suburbs, white fences, and kids. The picture perfect of the marriage.
Until it all shatters on the ground.
It's not his intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but lean in when he hears her voice. She sounds happier, as she shows her friend the ring on her finger.
So he bares his teeth,
And bites.
(One time, her uncle had to put down their dog
Because he bit his children for no reason—
Other than jealousy
He heard the dog whined
on the cold table,
alone, and scared
As the vet slowly pushed the poison
Into his bloodstream
And God, how cruel is it
To put a heart inside of a beast
When all his life
He only knew
How to bite?)
He pants as he presses himself into her, causing her to whimper, as her voice is long gone from screaming and crying.
She must've had no idea of what's coming to her when he called her to his office. The scratches and bruises on his body were enough proof of her gullibility, that she came to him, unassumingly, and trusting.
He had her bent over his desk, smothering her easily with his body as he forced himself into her. She was a fighter, but not strong enough to defeat him.
He had lost his inhibitions, as his back arched for the eighth time, spilling his seeds into her.
And she's lost as well, as her eyes were unfocused, and all her energy had been zapped from her body.
"Leave him." He said, as he drove himself into her once again.
She lets out a high-pitched moan when his cock stretches her open again, filling the room with sticky sounds.
"Leave him and love me instead." He said for the second time, and she cried in pain when he buried himself too deep.
"Love me," He sobbed as he pulled the ring out of her finger, knowing fully well he couldn't replace it without twisting her arm. "Please love me."
Her tears flood her cheeks as she watches him discard the ring from her, before latching his mouth onto her shoulder. Marking her with another bite, drawing yet another blood with his teeth.
He knew she had closed her heart the moment he slammed her on the table. He knew she wouldn't come to love him. But if he's not loved by her, then no one should.
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okok hear me out ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
being needy and riding re6 leon’s thigh and he starts sweetly mocking you for being so pent up and vocal even though he hasn’t even really touched you at all
i’m not usually this horny but :( next time i’ll send some fluff into your askbox
Omg anon I’m hearing you out, you got me thinking about this…just imagine how much muscle his thighs have 😵💫 I wrote a little gender neutral drabble on this under the cut I hope that’s okay
Thank you for sending an ask I love interaction AHH
“That’s it,” his murmurs fan against the sensitive skin of your ear, and they turn your brain into mush with each syllable that emits from his lips. “You’re so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a noise complaint.”
Your pajama pants are discarded somewhere on the floor of your shared living room as you rut against him. Leon has been so busy that you couldn’t help but pounce on him when he got some free time, scrambling over to him as soon as he sat down on the couch.
The scent of his cologne and pheromones fills your senses, a combination that makes you press your face against the crook of his neck in an attempt to get more.
And you’re so noisy—grunts and whimpers spilling from you with each roll of your hips against his thigh. The rough fabric of his denim jeans against the flimsier and thinner fabric of your underwear (which are pretty wet with your arousal, dampening up Leon's pants as well) has you rolling your eyes back.
“Don’t even need to lift a damn finger. Love me so much I bet you could come untouched.”
Surely he wouldn’t be that mean, right? Though…you could definitely come untouched. Hell, you gushed at the mere sound of his raspy morning voice; you got all excited whenever you got a peek of his happy trail.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” God, his voice is gravelly. His hand slides up to rest against the arch of your back. “You’re soaking my pants just from dry humping me like a damn dog.”
“Leon—“ you want to protest against those words, you feel a little bit embarrassed (and very turned on) and in turn, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. He cuts you off with a low rumble of laughter, catching onto your embarrassment and pressing a kiss against your temple.
“Bet you’d grind against my leg if I put you on your knees, hm? Poor baby can’t even go a day without being all over me.” He brings his hand to your jaw, cradles it, and brings you in for a kiss. It drowns out the loudness of your drunken sounding noises. His stubble brushes against your chin, and he gently pats his fingers against your cheek.
“You can be my sweet lap dog and keep me warm all day. What do you think?”
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