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#könig x female reader
lovelyghst · 4 months
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könig is definitely the type of man to keep you in bed all morning on christmas. he’s soo clingy and he refuses to break it for a second.
he gets to spoil you every day of the year but this holiday is one of the few days he gets to spoil himself. and you know he’d be so selfishly selfless with it, too. you’d think him focusing on you for hours without break was his way of showing his love for you, which it certainly is, but at the same time he’s really just doing it all for himself.
lying on his stomach with his head between your thighs as you’re both still so sleepy having just woken up, kissing and marking all up your thighs before even thinking about removing your cotton panties. licking at the little wet spot of fabric that forms from his teasing but he’s too far into his own headspace to even recognize how horribly he’s torturing you. soft and gentle lapping at your clit soon turns into him full-on finger fucking you after your first orgasm cause he adores so much how you lose your breath, convulse so, so tightly around him, and unintentionally tug harshly at his hair when you come.
he’ll fuck you in all of them later but his favorite positions so early in the morning are lazy missionary and prone. just the way your entire body presses up against his has him so cozy, and how he gets to bury his face in your neck and hair whilst listening to your soft whines and panting. your giggles when he grabs your leg and flips you over onto your front so easily, wrapping his big arms around your chest and shamelessly crushing you with his weight. you just get so pliable when you’re given his cock and he wants to play with you for hours.
he gives you breaks in between and each time you think he’s finally letting you out of bed, but instead he’ll be dragging you onto his lap for another make-out session that’ll soon turn into you riding him.
you tell him so many times that you wanna open presents, show him all the little knick knacks you got him but the fucker just responds with something like, “why would we need to do that when i’ve got everything i want right here?” before going down on you again. and if you’re still complaining after that, he’ll just grumble before leaning over to the nightstand, opening the drawer, and pulling out a pretty box with some sort of jewelry for you. he’s always prepared!!
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stargirlrchive · 7 months
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könig x fem!reader
cw: size kink, belly bulge, p in v, clit slaps (one)
NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)
GENERAL MASTERLIST
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königs fingers are digging into your hips as he lays his cock flat against your belly. the tip reaching your belly button and there’s a soft, feral, look in his eyes as he sees how deep he’s going to be inside you.
“look at that, liebling. you sure you’re going to be able to take me?”
könig revels in the way you start to squirm underneath him, eyes dazed and utterly frustrated as you try to rock your hips up and down. wanting to feel his thick cock slide through your puffy folds. but he’s quick to pin your hips to the bed, frowning down at you before delivering a soft spank to your clit.
it’s enough to have you stop but you’re panting and gripping the sheets as könig taps his cock teasingly on your belly. slowly, devastatingly slow, he begins to drag his cock down to your clit.
giving a few thrust against the sensitive nub as you mewl and writhe beneath him. running his shaft between your folds to cover himself in your slick before dragging the head of his cock between your lips.
stopping right before your entrance as he laughs down at you, gently thrusting forward to sink himself into you.
his hips give shallow, teasing thrust as your fingers are gripping on his wrist as you cry out, “könig-”
you can’t tell if it’s a threat or a plea, desperate as you try to sink yourself further onto his cock. his thick fingers grip at your thighs and push them further apart as his eyes glue to your belly. sinking fully into you as you cry out desperately. you felt so full.
your body jolting as könig’s fingers landed on your belly, tracing the bulge that had appeared. “taking my cock so well, engel.”
his fingers pressed down onto your stomach, your eyes rolling back as your cunt tightened around him. feeling every inch of him pressed inside you. your mind dizzy with pleasure as he began to thrust into you harder.
grinding his pelvis against your clit each time he sunk into you once more. könig couldn’t help but marvel at how small you were compared to him, and how good you were for him.
the bulge appearing and disappearing with each slow thrust, his calloused thumb rubbing slow circles onto your swollen clit. drilling himself into you until all you feel is hot white pleasure coiling through your belly.
tightening around his cock as your body trembles and convulses under his. könig’s grunts filling your ears as his cock pulses deep inside you. grinding into you as his come fills you.
your both breathless as he collapses on top of you. the air being pushed out of your lungs as he tucks his face into your neck.
“did so good for me, baby. you always do.”
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rileysluvr · 9 months
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literally just könig jacking off to you and being delusional idk
He’s tossing and turning in bed, and he can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what he does. He had ditched his shirt after around an hour of staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling like his chest was going to cave in, but the sensation still wouldn’t leave him even after. Like it’s clinging on to every square inch of his body and eating away at him, similar to his tight shirt before being removed, though refusing to dissipate after the multiple attempts in distracting himself.
He’s burning up, and he feels it most beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He stretches his back and shoulders against his mattress, but it gives him no relief. And he needs that relief, so desperately, he thinks he may just die if he goes another minute longer in this state. The twitching in his muscles with the compulsion that plagues them are far stronger than his mind. He huffs a final exasperation, mutters some broken and degrading swears in German, and ultimately, he gives in.
He swipes his unusually cold palm over his face before dragging it down his chest, trailing across his abdomen and following the wake of soft hair that disappears beneath the peaking waistband of his boxers. His fingertips stretch the band as they dip beneath it, and his breathing is becoming heavier yet weaker, more shaky-like, as they creep closer to where he needs attention the most.
He’s teasing himself, involuntarily and painfully. Perhaps this is his last attempt to allow himself a second thought, think twice before he commits such a dirty act on military grounds. But his mind is far too fuzzy to pay attention, it’s just been so long.
His hand finds his cock, exhaling a shaky breath at the forbidden contact, this is his last chance to turn back. His boxers are growing to be too tight around him, and this time he won’t be able to just put up with it until his thoughts dissipate. He needs release, and soon. It won’t be much, it’s only once, and then he can finally sleep, he convinces himself.
He pulls his boxers down his pelvis, leaving them just below where his hard cock is now free. He wraps his fist around his base, fingers enveloping each vein that bulges with desperation. He groans ever so softly, jaw slacked and eyes closed as goosebumps coat his chest and arms. It’s mere seconds before his mind is plummeting into uncontrollable thoughts and damned-worthy desires.
It’s your hand, he’s already imagining. It’s your smaller fingers around his cock, not enough to compensate for his size but still a hundred-times better than any fist could work. He knows you’d make it work. You’re clever like that, far more than he is.
It’s your thighs straddling his as your arm moves up and down at an excruciating pace. He needs your weight on him so fucking bad, preferably on his shoulders and face as he’d hold you down on his mouth. Fuck, he needs to taste you so bad.
It’s your voice that would talk him through it, command him on what to do until he’s broken down to the young, naive, want-to-be soldier he once was. He’ll do anything you say. He’ll walk through Hell and back if you tell him to. Hand on his heart, honest to whatever god may be out there. Smack him around.
Anything you say.
And it’s him who would satisfy your every want with unending diligence to thank you. Just fucking use him, already.
He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard he tried.
No matter how dirty he felt imagining his coworker in such a position, rather than a woman of what he thinks his type should be, or even an actress from a porn magazine. No matter how unlikely it was that he’d have a chance with you, it’s downright embarrassing. And no matter how heavy that guilt sat in his gut, his fist only squeezes tighter with his strokes, retaining that languid speed that has him gritting his teeth.
You flood his mind and you don’t even know the magnitude of it because you’re just a girl living your, perhaps slightly unconventional, life in the military, and he’s the coworker that people only look twice at to check if, yes, he really is that tall.
Flashes of your face, and that pretty body of yours in the most innocent of outfits, refuse to quit their tormenting of his mind, and here he was, fucking his fist to them at night like a desperate dog. He wants to see how your skin would contrast his pale and heavily scarred exterior, and how you would surely take him from his comfort zone and make him a better man.
He swipes his thumb over the head of his cock with a broken whine, collecting his pre and spreading it down his shaft as far as it goes; fuck, he’s so sensitive, and he just needs more. He can hear your voice in the back of his mind, conceptualizing what you would say as you guide him past his threshold. You’d be so sweet on him, just as you always are on the rare occasion you’re put in a position together where talking seemed the best option for pastime. You really are just perfectly perfect all around, he thinks, and he wants you to know it, so bad.
You’re too good for him, you’re too striking. Truthfully, while the thought of you taking care of him in his most vulnerable state has him thirsting like a dog and bucking his hips up into nothing but a mangled hand and cold air, he knows that’s not him. No, he needs to be of service, one way or another.
He knows he’d be on his knees in front of you, on the ground you walk on, looking up at you with big eyes as he’d place kisses all up and down your bare thighs, careful not to ruin your clothes. He’d worship every part of your body until all you knew was utter admiration, though he doubts you’ve ever gone a day without being honored for your being.
How could any man not leap at the opportunity to praise your every step in life, especially if you’ve taken him to bed?
He actually whines out into the empty space of his quarters, face all beet red and eyes bleary from surprising himself with such an act. Self-deprecating whispers linger in the back of his mind and will remain for when he’s later clearheaded, but for now, the only thing he can think to do is continue fisting his sensitive cock to the notion of being with you.
He’d let you mold him to whatever you wanted, he’d beg you to ride his face and get yourself off with his assistance. He wants to get drunk on your pussy, he knows he would. He knows you’d taste better than anything he has ever had, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he starts unless you say something. Punish him, even, for not doing it right or knowing both of your limits because he’s just such a hungry, greedy whore who only wants more, more, and more.
Should you ever let him into your life, he’d be better off quitting his job and dedicating his future to just making you feel so good and so loved, and so, so proud of him. He wants to hear you call him a good boy, maybe even a loyal slut. Etch it into his skull so he could never forget, as if that’d ever be possible.
He’d fuck you in any position you’d like, and he means any.
Lay on your back, legs spread and just begging for him to bury his face in your cunt, and he’ll listen like the good boy he is until you’re beyond satisfied. Stretch it out to hours if you please; the man has stamina that would put any gold-medalist to shame, and never once in his life, has he been a quitter.
“i’m good, i promise i am… i’ll be a good boy for you, please.”
Pin him to the mattress and ride him until he can’t think or speak, use him to reach your own high while taking him for all that he has because that’s all he’s there for, is to make you feel good. The strictest soldier would turn to putty under your hold.
“das ist—…s’too much, ich flehe dich—ngh—! bitte, bitte—”
Pull him into an abandoned building and make him fuck you on the cold, hard floor despite being at work, on the job. He would jeopardize even the highest value of intel for a piece of you.
“i’ll do anything, i swear… i’ll be quiet, i-i’ll let you use me… jus’ wanna make you feel good. it’ll make me feel good, too.”
Either way, he’s going to end up on his knees once again and, if you allowed, watch his pearly cum drip from your puffy cunt before taking two of his fingers and pushing it back in, words and babbles of endless praise slipping from his lips as he imagines the idea of starting his own little family with you.
His abdomen feels tighter just thinking of it, you, and his hand with a lethargic pace around his cock. His breathing is jagged, ruthlessly so, and it picks up when his fist does as well. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, dying whimpers spilling from his lips. Your name, as well, and he’s blushing more violently then ever. You’ve got a spell on him; he’s all yours, if you want.
Christ, what would you say to him right now? Scold him, berate him. Even slap him for jerking off to the mental image of you without your permission, and edge him until he cries like an abandoned baby. Call him pathetic and promise him he’ll never, ever have a chance because he is such a coward, and all.
Oh, but you’re just so sweet on him. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard you swear, let alone insult someone. You go to such great lengths to lighten the mood, make people feel so safe and welcome around you. And your fucking laugh, Christ, your giggles are always music to his ears. Anything that isn’t praise would sound far too foreign in your voice for him to compute. With those soft, plump lips at his ear, cooing him through his high he’s gonna reach so early, so fucking soon— fuck, he's…
He’s gonna—
A soft knocking on his door causes his hand to stop and eyes to shoot open, lightly gasping for air as he was pulled just seconds away from his orgasm. He’s frozen, dead in his tracks, and he waits for it to happen again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things. The one time, he succumbs to his perverse hankerings.
A few seconds go by before he hears the knocking once more, this time sure it was for him. He swiftly sits up and then stands, shoving his cock in his boxers and pulling his pants back up. He leans down to grab his shirt, pulling it over his big head, introducing a new type of discomfort from before due to the cold sweat he broke coating his chest. He’s reaching for his helmet when there’s a voice coming from the other side of the door, and the hardened soldier nearly jumps in surprise.
“König?”
Oh, fuck. His entire body tenses up at the wake of your voice. Outside his room, right now, when he was just fucking his fist to the image of you. He couldn’t begin to describe or label what he’s feeling, but it’s something along the lines of utter shame and mortification. He mutters a quick and defeated curse under his breath, aggression only aimed at himself.
You’re speaking up again before he even has time to think, granted his mind was spinning and he was making no move to answer you. He’s frozen, stuck in space. Time seemed to race by him without warning, and he hated it.
“Are you awake?”
Your voice is gentle, as always, and so quiet in order to not wake anyone else in the corridor. He’s surprised he could understand you so well, then again, he’d recognize your voice from a klick away.
Could you hear him from outside his door? He wouldn’t ever be able to recover. His hard cock twitches in his pants at the thought of being caught in the act of jerking off to you, and he shakes his head, fighting back the groan boiling in his chest at the simple, yet so fucking intricate, idea of it. He’s a mess.
He decides against the hood, which would most likely prove a mistake as he could literally feel the heat exuding from his face. He knows his hair is a sore sight and his clothes are wrinkled beyond repair. You’ve ruined him, and you don’t even know it.
He swallows thickly as he trudges over to the door, attempting to clear his throat and stabilize his breathing, and his hot palm lands on the screaming door handle.
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l0v3tast3 · 10 months
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Konig with a reader who has a hard time fingering herself :( either her position isn't good, she's always too tight or she's nervous, or a combo of all (obvi she's virgin too). So Konig helps her out. If you could include some age gap and praise kink too <3
this is such a good request anon the daddy issues. they are absolutely issuing rn but it's good for the writing lmao thank u for the request !!! <3
✎ tags: mdni! nsft, f!reader, virgin!reader, no penetrative s3x, age gap (r is 20's, könig is mid-40's), fluff, softdom!könig, praise kink, size kink, size difference, abuse of pet names, dirty talk,
✎ word count: 1.8k words (not proofread)
✎ translations: "hase" = bunny , "mein kleiner hase" = my little bunny "mein schatz" = my darling/sweetheart "mein herz" = my heart , "liebling" = darling
masterlist | requests are open!
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✧ ˖ ° könig, who is usually pretty good at hiding his emotions when need be, has a look of pure shock when you meekly ask your request of him. you're instantly apologizing when you dare a look up at him, trying to back away from his hold where he has you on his lap. you'd been making out (könig felt like he was transported back to a much better version of high school) slow and passionate; he was more than willing to be patient for as long as you wanted. just holding your little body against him, having you in his lap, seeing your face light up whenever he comes into your view is more than enough.
✧ ˖ ° as you lightly squirm he collects you back against him, yelling at himself internally while he tries to rectify your panic. "hase, come here, of course i will help you," he whispers. könig runs his hands over your back, rubbing your sides and up to your shoulders and neck, coming to a stop to cup your face. "of course i will. mein schatz, i would do anything to make you feel good. such a good girl, asking me so nicely for help." you stop moving finally, looking up at him as if you were surprised he actually agreed. as if you were surprised that he actually wants to do this (like he hadn't wanted to do this and so much more ever since he first saw you).
✧ ˖ ° he picks you up and you yelp, distracted by your surprise of seeing what everything looks like from your boyfriend's height. soon enough he's placing you down on his bed, sitting behind you and helping you to lean your back against his chest and between his legs. könig can feel how nervous you are. it's why he calls you his little bunny, because you're so skittish at the slightest touch, so reactive to anything he does or even says, and he adores it.
✧ ˖ ° so he takes it slow. he prefers it that way, being able to take the time to remind himself not to overwhelm you too much and mapping every inch of new skin you let him feel. könig bends down to kiss you again while he runs his hands as softly as he knows how to down your arms and over your stomach and sides, slowly pushing up the hem of your shirt.
✧ ˖ ° "mein kleiner hase," he separates from your lips but doesn't go far, trailing down your cheek and jaw to your neck. "you always look so sweet here in my arms, so precious. you'll let me help you, won't you, liebling?" könig whispers, his hands slowly undoing the buttons and zipper of your jeans. he can feel your nervousness, the grip on his forearms tightening bit by bit the closer he got to your core, so he waits to help you take off your pants until you nod and mumble out a little "please, könig," in an adorably meek voice.
✧ ˖ ° he rubs his huge hands over your thighs and hips and stomach telling you that you need to ease into it, go slow and build the anticipation. you're already on the verge of panting, your breath catching whenever his fingertips graze underneath the edges of the cute underwear you wore just for him. again könig asks if he can take them off, and when you squeak out an "mhm" he presses a kiss to your cheek and more to your shoulder while he leans over to drag your underwear down your legs.
✧ ˖ ° könig already has the sensitive parts of most of your body memorized; where you're ticklish, where you don't want him to touch, and where he gets the cutest reactions out of you from. so he utilizes this (very valuable) information to help you relax. he can feel how tense your back is, how your little hands try to wrap around his forearms. he can see you fighting not to clamp your thighs shut altogether. and of course he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he'll stay away from where your legs meet while he swallows the spit he wants to cover your cunt with. your shirt is edged up and your bra is carefully undone, any newly uncovered skin traced over with his calloused hands.
✧ ˖ ° it's not long before he has you melting against him, breath coming quick and thighs creeping open centimeter by centimeter. as he murmurs praises of how sweet and pretty you are for him, his fingers creep nearer to the tops of your thighs and further down. könig is certain that you're already soaked. he knows he can go on and start doing what you asked of him- but the way your body responds to him, the gasps he has to strain to hear, it's too much not to savor.
✧ ˖ ° your hips start bucking up nearly on their own and you mewl out another "please- könig, need your help". as soon as you tilt your head back to look up at him with glazed, pleading eyes, he's lifting your thighs over his own and locking them apart with his legs. before you can look away his hand is gently holding your chin to keep eye contact, his other hand getting closer achingly slowly to where you want him. "you are so beautiful, mein schatz," he breathes, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheek. "how did i get so lucky to be able to call you mine, hmm?"
✧ ˖ ° with hungry, lidded eyes könig watches how your back arches just as his middle finger brushes over your clit. your eyes grow wider as his finger dips lower to feel just how wet you are, his chest rising and falling heavier now. "it doesn't feel good when you do this yourself?" the question nearly goes unanswered when he rubs slow circles into the tiny bundle of nerves, your breath stuttering in your chest. you manage to shake your head a little bit, still being held by him. "so sensitive, just for me then. scheiße, what am i going to do with you, hase? how could i handle such a sweet little girl?"
✧ ˖ ° you whine when he stops paying attention to your clit, but it's cut off when he's bringing up his hand and pushing his middle and index finger past your swollen lips. könig can feel how his cock throbs in his pants as you coat them with your spit, a trail linking from your mouth once he pulls his hand away and goes back down; the image of you on your knees for him is so much more vivid now.
✧ ˖ ° könig makes damn sure he memorizes every movement of every muscle, every noise and expression you make as he pushes his middle finger into your impossibly tight pussy. he nearly moans with you as he sinks it in further. the first thought that comes to mind is that he has no idea how he's going to fit his dick inside of you without hurting you, but his second thought is that he's determined to figure it out. you, on the other hand, can already feel a fog settling over your brain, your thoughts focusing on the new feeling of pleasure and trying your best to keep eye contact with him still. it's just so hard when you can feel your face burning, see his dark eyes taking in everything you give him, but his feather-light grip on your jaw doesn't budge.
✧ ˖ ° of course he'll talk you through it all, pressing kisses across your face and shoulders every so often. "you are doing so well for me, mein herz, so gorgeous like this. does it feel good, liebling? you already look so messy and i've hardly done anything to you- ha, i wish i could keep you like this, such a pretty girl." könig can feel how much you tighten up even more around his digit with every praise and he watches you try to grind down to get him deeper as he pumps it in and out. "you want more, hm? do you think you can handle another finger? your pussy is so tiny, it's a wonder even one can fit," he murmurs, turning your head and leaning down to graze his lips against yours.
✧ ˖ ° when you manage another nod of your head könig meets his lips with yours, swallowing your pitched moan as he adds another finger to stretch you further. your gentle giant was right: you're a mess already. nails digging into his defined arms and leaving puffy red lines, body squirming as an unfamiliar, overbearing heat builds in your stomach. it spreads to your thighs and up into your chest, your arms and your head, becoming so hot that it's nearly overwhelming. you separate from his lips with a gasp, one dainty hand coming up to desperately grab at the hair on the back of his neck. könig takes in the dew drops pricking at your waterline, how your back arches and you grab at him for some kind of purchase.
✧ ˖ ° the hand still under your jaw rubs your cheek reassuringly before it's snaking down to join the other and he starts pressing kisses into your neck again, whispering more sweet words in your ear. "you take my fingers so prettily, mein kleiner hase, are you going to cum? it's okay, i'll take care of you. cum for me mein schatz."
✧ ˖ ° könig's free hand runs down your soft stomach until his fingertips reach your clit, once again rubbing in circles while he curls the two digits dragging in and out of you. it only takes a moment for your wail to turn into sharp gasps, your trembling body going taught as all the tension he'd built inside you snapped, pleasure you've never felt before flooding through your body. könig watches you shake in his hold; he's sure it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, the best thing he's ever felt. he feels blessed to be able to make you cum like this. the pre-cum gradually leaving a stain on his pants isn't even on his mind while he works you through your orgasm.
✧ ˖ ° he'll stop once your hips start twitching and little whines escape under heavy breath, ghosting his hands over your body to slowly bring your thighs back over his legs and massage out any soreness in the muscles. "you did so wonderful, mein herz, what a good girl i have," he'll murmur between sweet kisses. "i am so proud of you for asking for my help, you'll always ask for my help from now on, won't you, hase?"
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)
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How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)
Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.
Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.
A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷
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No one sees a cleaning lady.
Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.
It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.
She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.
It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.
His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.
He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.
Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.
She's mesmerized.
It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.
The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.
She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.
The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.
The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.
It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.
He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.
It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.
"König. Would you mind?"
The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.
"Entschuldigung."
He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.
"English, please..."
"My apologies."
The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.
König…
König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.
König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.
He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.
"You're running low again?"
"Eh… Ja."
He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.
"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."
He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.
His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.
"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.
He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.
"Hier."
"Why thank you."
He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.
"I'll be going then."
But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.
“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.
. . . . .
She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.
No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.
No one sees a cleaning lady.
No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.
But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.
And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.
The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.
He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.
Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.
Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.
He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.
She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.
The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.
His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.
And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?
And then he…
He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck-
She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.
She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.
. . . . .
"Hey."
If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.
"Hi."
Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.
"You here for more coffee?"
He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.
"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"
"Did you like what you saw?"
Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.
"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.
"I'm– sorry, what?"
"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."
She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.
"Jesus…"
The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.
. . . . .
There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.
What the f-
König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.
"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.
"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.
He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.
And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.
Has he picked them from outside…?
"I thought you liked me."
His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.
"I do. I do like you."
His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"
Nope. Big mistake.
"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Ok. I'll be going then."
He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.
“Wha-… König, please, wait.”
He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.
"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.
He merely shrugs.
"Never had any friends."
For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.
"I can be your friend."
Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–
"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"
She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.
Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.
"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."
König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.
She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.
"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.
The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.
"Just friends, then."
. . . . .
It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.
Her new friend.
She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.
He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.
But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.
He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.
She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.
"How are you?"
His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.
"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"
"Sehr gut."
Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.
And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.
"You look nice."
But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.
She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.
"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.
"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you take it off before bed?"
Oh god.
That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.
Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?
Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.
"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…
Friends, friends. We're just friends.
"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"
"No. Austrian."
"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."
"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.
"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.
"Ok."
He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.
"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…
"You really want to know?"
"Sure."
"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.
"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.
"Uh... I'm sure it is."
"Do you regret that you asked?"
"No. Well, perhaps a little."
He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.
"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."
"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.
"Do you like knives?"
Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.
"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."
Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.
"What would it take to be more than friends?"
His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.
"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"
"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.
As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.
She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.
"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"
"Ok."
He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.
In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.
She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.
She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.
“Jesus–"
By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.
"How did you get in?"
He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.
"You asked me to visit you."
He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.
"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."
"Sorry."
If you shrug I swear I’m going to…
"Where do you wish to go?"
He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.
She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.
"Do you like Chinese?"
He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.
"I need to change. Could you turn around?"
The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.
But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.
König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.
"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.
The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.
He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.
He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'
What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.
He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.
"A bit, yeah."
"Is it because of the hood?"
His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.
"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.
He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.
"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.
"I…I guess so."
"You think I'm weird, don't you."
His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.
"Um… I… Uh-"
"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.
"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.
"Did you like what you saw?"
"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"
"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."
"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"
"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.
She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.
"Am I harassing you?"
Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.
There's bitterness... Exclusion.
Loneliness.
"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.
"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.
"Do you want me to stop?"
In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.
"König… Are you lonely?"
He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.
"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.
"...Yes."
Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.
"You don't have to be."
There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.
She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.
5K notes · View notes
vampdes · 10 months
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( cw. quick drabble, makeout sesh. könig & reader. grinding / dry humping. + google translate german used. )
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“mmh! schatz, wai—”, könig and you had a mission no less than four hours from now. both of you knew that, if the two of you were caught by price, again, only god knows how he’d reprimand the two of you this time. [t. sweetheart.]
but könig’s lips were so distracting. they were full, his upper lip being a soft pink and his lower lip being rose pink, with a scar on the left side. if he didn’t want makeout sessions all the time, why would he put on a show just for you?
“jus’—fuck, hands on my hips, babe.” you said between kisses, placing his gloved hands on your hips before going back to gripping his hair and grinding against his cargo pants.
“too—engel, engel–gott, ich werde— zu viel!” he cried, squeezing his legs shut after you had pulled his swollen lips away from yours. [t. angel, angel–god, i’m gonna—too much!]
you grinned, wiping away the stray tears from his tear-stained cheeks, “we have . . a little longer, yeah?”.
“liebe, trainin’—hah, ah!”. you pressed your hand against his mouth, you motioned for him to be quiet as you unbuckled his belt. könig bit his lower lip, nodding slightly as he watched you place his belt on top of the duffel bag. “we—training, though, the mi–oh, god–the mission!” you situated yourself on top of his lap before tilting your head. [t. love.]
“we have time. three hours and some minutes, [we] won’t be late like last time, swear.” you mumbled, pressing kisses against his jaw whilst slowly grinding against the crotch of his black briefs. könig nodded slowly, his mind becoming clouded by his urges, “we—yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, agreeing, his hands going underneath your shirt and situating on your waist.
you pressed soft kisses against his adam’s apple to which he tipped his head back with a soft groan. “yes—we definitely . . hah, we definitely have more time.” könig whispered, licking his lips before smiling and gently pressing his lips against yours.
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victoria-grimesss · 9 months
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tear you apart - part III
Part one: here    Part two: here 
masterlist
-> Pairing: König x fem!reader
-> Words: 4.1k
-> Warning: MDNI!, the mask stays ON, unprotected sex, semi-rough sex, König is a giver and a worshiper, some jealousy, mushy feelings, fluff, things are getting cute!!
-> A/N: thank you 100 followers yippee!! masterlist is in the works, let me know if you like the direction this is going and I'm open for any storyline suggestions :) 
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You were standing in the courtyard, skipping breakfast today since you just weren’t feeling it.
The ice on the ground had recently been salted so you didn’t slip this time around. The mountain-scape to the north of the base was picturesque and you enjoyed coming out to this area for seclusion and clean air. 
You slipped on a thick black scarf today to conceal the evidence of last night and to help with the fact the heating unit in your dorm section went out overnight so you made sure to bundle up extra. It would have been easier to warm up if König was in bed with you but alas he wasn't. 
It was the morning after your rendezvous with König and to say you were sore was an understatement. The marks he left were scorched on your skin. It pained you to drag yourself to the shower after that night, washing away the smell of him on you. You examined yourself afterward and he was not delicate with his placement. Dark purple marks dotted your jawline and down your neck. Teeth marks are evident too. Purple painted your hips in the same shape of his fingers and if you concentrated hard enough you could still feel his grasp on you. You thought deeply of that night as you took in a deep breath of cold air, butterflies danced in your stomach and the embers of that night flickered within you. 
“Hey Y/N!! Funny seeing you here!” Bennet, one of the new recruits you befriended recently, was walking toward you while warming his hands. He was alright looking, he would be handsome if your brain wasn't already preoccupied replaying the unholy things König had done to you the previous night and thinking of the other things he could do to you.
“It’s quite cold out here, you actually like it?” He has that picturesque crest bright white smile and he's clean shaven, his eyes stay locked on your lips for a bit too long and you shuffle your feet bringing the scarf up to your mouth to breath heat into it.
“I don’t mind it, it's refreshing out here. Easy to relax, gets a bit much inside sometimes.”
He laughs, it’s light and he's everything opposite of konig. He's soft where König is hard, and light where he is deep. 
“Not used to such close quarters? It’s not all that bad right? Pretty girls like you make it much easier.” 
Oh.
He's flirting. 
You assumed he wasn't out here for friendly conversation after all, I guess he didn't hear word of the noises coming from the colonel's office the other night and that someone had seen you exit.
“Look Bennet-”
“Enjoying the weather?” His voice booms as the door slams open, his shoulders are back and his head held high. You’ve become conditioned into becoming tense with anticipation just at the sound of his voice.
He walks over, you wonder how long he was watching before he busted out of the door, did he see Bennet flash his hollywood smile at you like a bird flashes his feather during courting season? He seems wound up, tense and his eyes are dark.
Bennet straightens his back, greeting his superior, not knowing of the connection the two of you have. Your eyes bounce between the two. 
“Colonel sir, I was just speaking to my friend Y/N-”
“Were you now? I could swear you had-” he moves his arm, his sleeve slipping from his watch and he brings the watch to his face. “-Bathroom and laundry duty at about this hour, soldier? Or am I mistaken?” König stands at his full height, towering over Bennet and bringing both arms to cross his chest.
“No, sir you’re not I was just-”
“You will do your job and do as you're told, you'd be best to stick to it yea?” He’s mean and gritty but you like it. He asserts his authority without forgiveness and you assume that's why he has the rank and position he does. His gaze never leaves Bennet, the other man shrinking under his spotlight.
“Yes, of course sir.” Bennet shuffles off, your gaze is on the door he left in and the courtyard is silent. There's a long pause and it feels like time has frozen.
You hear König take a deep inhale and slowly release the exhale.
Then he turns his body so it faces you completely.
He’s equipped himself with all his gear today and he looks massive as usual.
“Mein süßes Mädchen you look lovely today.” 
“König, that was quite crass how you treated Bennet, he's a friend of mine.”
His eyes visibly roll,
“I know you come out here to clear your heads and for that you need solitude my love.” 
“Well you’re out here so I can't clear my head now can I?”
“I thought my company would be enriching for your experience.” His eyes crinkle and you meet them, admiring how the black paint around his eyes makes his blue eyes brighter.
“Your company is always very enriching.” You mean this in more than one way of course. If the others at base knew that you talked so casually with the colonel they would be shocked, yes he can be intimidating when needed but sometimes he is sweet.
“You certainly seemed to enjoy your visit to my office, I hope the grand tour met your standards.”
“They most definitely did, and then some.” You blush, bringing the scarf to your mouth again to warm yourself.
He tilts his head at your action.
“You hide the marks I gave to you?” 
“Well, I’m not sure you wanted the others to know that we’re ya know… sleeping together.”
He scoffs,
“I would love everyone to see them, it is a visible mark of my admiration to you, my loyalty to you. If others have problems with it they can take it up with me yea?”
His hand makes its way to your cheek and he cups it in his palm, your eyes close and admire the way you can easily sink into his touch so easily.
He moves his hand from your cheek to the scarf, unraveling it and he takes a deep breath when he reveals the many marks he scattered on you. The scarf stays in his grasp and he takes your chin in his grasp with his forefinger and thumb turning your heads up to him. His eyes are dark again as he looks upon you.
“You are beautiful, I will only be upset for a moment when these marks vanish because it gives me a reason to scatter you with even more next time.” 
His romantic words never fail to erupt butterflies within you and you are still astonished at how he can be such different men, a violent soldier, a soft romantic, and a starved lover.  
He clears his throat, hands moving from your chin to your shoulder and down your arm until he gathers your hand in his. He moves your hand under his mask and kisses your fingers gently, his eyes never leaving yours and you get a feel for his lips on your skin and you shiver but not from the cold this time.
“It pains me to leave you Schatz but I will see you later, don't go messing around with other boys alright? They’re no good for you.” 
“I wouldn't dream of it.” You smile and part ways, this day could not go any slower.
Never had you had a hard time concentrating before, you’re a trained soldier and damn good at your job, you’ve taken out squads of men with no alarm raised or suspicion drawn but the only thing on your mind as you’re in the gym is König. König, König, König. He’s like a parasite, digging and infesting in your brain, ruining all other men and options for you. It's only him now.
You try to avoid the stares in the gym, the workout top you wear hides very little of the bruises and lingering teeth marks and you just try to tune out the side eyes and lingering looks. 
As your workout ends you make your way to the locker-room and Bennet once again invades your vision.
“Hey Y/N- oh shit, someone really did a number on you! Didn't know a girl like you was into all that.” He winks and his eyes are only on the marks not looking you in the eyes.
“Oh these, yea well ya know how it is, girls got needs.” You give a halfhearted laugh just wanting to shower.
“Oh I know very well, if you ever need help with those needs I can definitely help you with those.” He's smirking and you grow sour at these unwanted words, about to tell him off when a hand slams onto his shoulder.
“I appreciate your concern, but her needs are well taken care of in my hands, right Schatz.” He always comes to you right when you need him and his eyes are so dark and his grip on Bennet’s shoulder is so tight the clothes are heavily wrinkled under his hand. Bennet’s eyes are wide as they race from you to König.
“I-um I didn't know you were with him.”
“It’s an honest mistake, she’s a very pretty girl and a wonderful lover. I am extremely lucky to have her. But I’ll let you know if you ever speak to her in this manner again I won't hesitate to crush you alright?”
Bennet's face has gone pale and he scurries off once König releases him, holding his shoulder as he leaves.
“König.”
“Come with me.”
He gives no room for argument. He grabs your hands and whisks you away out of the gym. You have to walk at double speed to keep up with his pace.
“König, I need to shower.” You try to protest but he keeps walking.
“I will have you as you are, you think a little sweat will deter me?” His voice is deep and you know seeing another man pester you twice in the same day has sparked some kind of primal urge within him. You have no complaints either way.
“Where are we going?” The twists and turns of the base make you dizzy and he moves with such speed you've gone into a trace following him blindly just watching the way he knows this place like the back of his hand. 
“Quiet, you'll know soon enough.”
People sure have a staring problem around here because they stare you down as he leads you down the halls.
You finally reach the door and he opens it and ushers you in quickly closing it and slamming you against the door. 
Your heart is racing again as it does when he's around and his hands can't seem to be still upon you; they trace the lengths of your hips to your waist, bringing you closer to him each time.
“Meine Taube forgive me but I must have you, you understand right? All of them stare, they wish to be in my position but I know none of them could touch you as I do, feel you as I do.” 
You stare through your lashes up at him and he discards his helmet leaving his mask and the rest of his gear on.
“I would never have anyone as how I have you, how I let you have me.” 
He groans, leaning over you and his head rests on your shoulder before he lifts his mask just above the peak of his nose, exposing his jaw and lips to you. You’re left silenced and before you can think to utter a sound his lips crash to yours and he consumes your moans and whines as if he's starved.
His hands become crazed and he holds your hips and lifts you so you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. 
He groans as he grinds his hips into yours, your back pressed against the door and your hand wanders under his mask from behind and you grip his hair tugging it forcefully. He pulls back from your lips at that moment and you get a good look at his lips. They're parted and kiss swollen, he's panting and the stubble on his jawline sends another wave of heat downwards.
He smirks and you can see the sharpness of his canine teeth, you can practically feel them already.
“See something you like?” You meet his eyes and your face darkens.
“I see a lot of things I like.”
His mouth crashes back onto yours and he continues his assault until he locks his lips onto your neck once again biting, licking, and sucking with no abandonment. You throw your head back, hitting the door but you feel no pain or really anything besides him and the heat radiating from between your legs.
“Lets get the prinzessin somewhere more comfortable yea?” He carries you the distance to his bed and in the short walk you see he has a much bigger bed than provided to the rest of the troops, makes sense, you doubt he can even fit into the regular sized ones. His bedding looks comfortable, the bed made neatly and everything in his room is neat and pristine. Up to code.
He lays you down onto the bed and you sink into it, you nearly moan at how comfortable it is.
“Not fair you get such a comfortable mattress and I’m subjected to a damn near plywood board.”
He laughs in between kisses as he unbuttons your shirt.
“Liebling you will never see your bed again, I must implore you spend your nights in mine.”
He sucks and kisses down your chest reaching behind you and undoing your bra clasp with one hand and throwing it far across the room.
“I-I would have a much better time sleeping here. I wouldn't mind that.”
“We wouldn't do much sleeping.”
Oh. So bold.
You throw your head back as he cups one breast and latches his mouth to the other.
“I’m sorry my love, I didn't get to indulge you in this last time.” He kisses again. “But I swear no where will be left untouched on you, I’ll have to be killed to be parted from you.”
You hands grasp anywhere they can as he continues his ministrations and you grasp his shirt.
“Take this off, now.”
He leans back on his knees and stares down at you, eyes heavy with lust.
“Your wish is my command.” He strips himself of the chest gear and shirt in record time and his chest is heaving as he leans atop of you again. His dog tags dangling over you, catching the spare light in the room. His mouth kisses down your stomach, the cool metal of the tags freezing after his searing lips, and unbuttons your pants sliding the zipper down with his teeth. You feel his hot breath on the front of your panties and the sight of him is ponographic.
“Oh god König I’m going to fucking explode if you dont hurry it the fuck up.” You groan and twist your hips to get him to do something, anything.
“Schatz you are too hasty, you are like artwork. I need to admire you as you are and appreciate what lies before me. Be patient and you will be heavily rewarded.” He strips your pants off maintaining eye contact the whole time and kisses from the band of your panties all the way back to your lips and he kisses sweetly this time touching the now exposed thighs and places his whole hand on your heat cupping it in his hand and he groans once more. 
“You make my self control crumble you know that?” He traces his fingers up and down your core sliding your panties to the side to continue the motion.
“I cannot help myself when I’m around you, you could say the most awful things to me and I would still kiss the ground you walk on.”
“I would never say anything mean to you König, never.” He kisses your lips and you bite his lower lip as he leans back.
“I know you wouldn't, that's why I keep you all to myself.”
He slips a finger in and you clench around him, growing hotter and panting heavier. You move a hand down his broad expansive chest, scars littering it as proof of the man he is, of the hard work he's done. You cup him as well, stroke him over his pants and he sucks in a breath his movements of his fingers stutter.
“Liebling, Scheiße”
You look at him innocently as you unbutton and unzip his pants, releasing him from his boxers and taking him in your hand.
“What? I’m not doing anything.” You smile and stroke him lightly, his hips thrust into your hand and his eyes lock onto yours like you're treading thin ice.
Your thumb circles the tip collecting the leak that sprouts from him and he shudders again.
His fingers work on you faster and your hand gets uncoordinated on him and your vision starts to go hazy.
He hums, clearly pleased with his work on you.
“What wrong soldier, having trouble concentrating?” He laughs and you don't hear him anymore as you reach your peak, your hand that's not gripping him carving nail marks into his shoulder.
He draws two more orgasms from you with his fingers alone, you can imagine his fingers are pruned now with how soaked he's managed to make you. Your mind has been melted, remolded and melted again. You had let go of your grasp on him to hold tightly to his shoulder but he didn't seem to care, his mind was only on preparing you for the main event. His tip was leaking and had made a sizable puddle on your midsection.
“You think you’re ready for me now mein liebling?” He holds himself in his hand tracing the tip across your core and you scoot yourself closer to him trying to inch him in, he holds you hip in place.
“You heard me? You ready my dear?”
“Yes König, just get on with it, I can't wait any longer.” 
“Of course my love.” He leans down to capture your lips and at the same time your tongues meet he enters you and it's the most lovely feeling you've ever felt. A tear slips down your cheek and if the sun exploded right now you would have no care in the world.
He sinks fully and brushes hair from your face, kissing your cheek and moves his hips out then back in to start a good rhythm. You both groan at the initial feeling and your hands move under his mask that has now dropped back down over his face to cup his jawline. He moves his head in your hand and kisses your palm, his eyes heavy on you, eyelids droopy and pupils dilated so wide his eye color would be perceived as black and not their original blue color. 
You moan softly and the hand that was braced holding himself has moved to your hip and you look between the two of you and observe the way you connect. You can feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten up once again. König is insatiable, he dives into your heat with no sign of stopping, each breath whine and moan that escapes your lips only adds to his stamina and pleasure. He starts to speed his thrusts and the metal bars of the bed start a rhythmic banging against the wall, if you weren't so drunk off of him right now you would feel back for the neighbor but you don't care right now and can only think of König as he fills your vision. The new marks on your body sting and the way he grips your hip has you dripping on him and you can hear the evidence and you know he can too.
“You are a goddess incarnate, you know that. Like a siren I am drawn back to you each time I leave you. You pull me back into you so deliciously I cannot ever leave, I could spend all eternity inside you and never grow bored.”
His words tighten the coil within you even more and you throw your head back, drawing more and more like into his back and he growls.
“Yes Liebling, use me to express your pleasure, take it out on me and I shall give it back to you a thousand times. I can feel you getting closer, do not hold back on me.”
He's harsh now with his movements and he's getting closer too, he's moved your legs to his shoulder and he's delved even deeper into you and you nearly, no you do scream his name, and it's loud.
“König, I'm close, don't stop.” He continues his abuse and his thrusts grow unrhythmic. He bends over you, your head is thrashing side to side as you near your limit and he holds your head steady in his large grip making you look straight at him. His dog tags sway in front of your vision like a metronome keeping you in this trance-like state of euphoria.
“Look at me. Good girl, go ahead and make a mess.” He fucks you through your orgasm and he follows right behind you, thrusting deep and you both are locked in a gaze. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you take a deep breath in and let it out, deflating under his gaze and your brain feels mushy.
König shifts, “My love, darling.”
He snaps his fingers in front of your face. His eyes crinkled again and if his eyes could be heart shaped they definitely would be right about now.
“There she is.” He places your legs back on the bed and removes himself carefully kissing you hard on the lips and again on the cheek before he gets up and once again cleans you up, he's topless but in the heat of the moment he never did take off his boots or pants. 
“Thank you.” You say, your voice horse as he's cleaning you up and providing you with clean panties and one of his shirts to wear.
“You don't need to thank me darling, I enjoy taking care of you. You truly deserve it.”
You get up and change into his shirt, it pools on you but it smells of him.
“Beautiful, you should wear my clothes more often.” He watches you like a hawk as you stumble to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly.
“If shirts 5x my size were part of the military dress code I would take your words into consideration.” 
You hear him laugh as you close the bathroom door and relieve yourself, looking in the mirror you look utterly destroyed, you smooth over your hair and splash your face with water, taking the time to brush your teeth as well.
His bathroom is pristine and smells like citrus, another green flag, he knows how to keep clean.
“I used your toothbrush if that’s alright.” You stop in your tracks, he's striped down to only his boxers and mask. He’s built like a greek god but he’s got some thickness along with his muscle you assume at his age he's just grown more sturdy.
“You’re going to catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that, lay with me. Relax.” He’s laid back on a pillow, only the light of his bedside lamp illuminates the room and he's made a small nest of pillows on your side.
You nestle yourself in the crook of his arm and he wraps his arm around you kissing the top of your head and humming softly a song you don't know.
“Did you mean those things you said, it wasn't just your brain turned to sex mode right?” You beat yourself a bit for plaguing him with the job of reassuring you of his feelings but you want to know his feelings are true.
His hold on you gets a bit tighter.
“I have never felt more sure about something in my life, you have come into my life so suddenly and I will move mountains to keep you in it. I told you I will worship the ground you walk on so let me show you.” He kisses your face in multiple places and all your worries melt away with his touch.
His words glaze over your brain like honey and butterflies erupt from it in droves, you have never even seen this man's full face yet you are so sure you would devote yourself fully to him as he says he will do for you. You fall asleep to the sound of him humming and have never felt more at peace.
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ellaa-writes · 7 months
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The Beast Wíthin
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authors note: Part 4, part 5 here. Had to cut the last part in half as Tumblr wouldn't upload it. I'll be taking a break from this series, maybe doing small one shots, drabbles and headcanons but no big stories. Will be working on other stuff as well. Also if anyone as any requests or ideas please send them my way! masterlist
summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.
tags: Alternative Universe. Female reader. Female anatomy. SMUT finally some smut. PinV, knotting, rutting. König is kinda an asshole but he doesn't know any better. More The Beast lore. Reader is feisty.
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His fingers pulled you into position. His hot mouth was heavy against your core, the obscene noises you were making coming from under the blankets.
You were gasping and clawing at the covers, nails digging into your surroundings. Finding König short hair against his scalp, pulling on it hard.
He found your bundle of nerves and began sucking on it. Wrapping his lips around your clit, using his fingers to slowly coax open your entrance.
“Oh God.. König please.” you didn’t know what you were saying. If they were words or not, or just sounds.
You knees were pushed to your chest, flush against your tits. You didn’t know how or when you became naked. Your skin was hot fire, burning through everything.
König couldn’t get enough of you, if he could he’d dive right inside your pussy. He feels like a dehydrated man lost in the desert for years, and your pussy was like water. His hands like magic plucking sweet sounds from you. He could easily spend every waking minute just like this.
Fighting back his urge to shove himself right in and also fighting back The Beast from taking control in this moment. The snarling getting louder and louder inside his head, too the point he felt it crushing everything inside. Until his vision went black.
Before you knew it you were being flipped onto your stomach, König’s big hand twisting you into position. He dragged your hips up and over his crotch, your bare pussy making a mess of his boxers. “Woah, big boy.” Is all you could get out before he was shoving your head into the pillows.
You felt his heavy cock against your ass, König dragged his boxer all the way down his legs and kicking them to somewhere in the room. You tried coming back up for air but was shoved down again followed by a serious of growling coming from König.
He gripped his cock, running it up and down your glistening folds. Making your hips buck forward anytime it caught on your sensitive clit. You tried looking back to get a good look at his cock but stopped when König growled out at you, a warning if you could call it that.
After lining himself up with your entrance, he began slowly pushing himself in. The stretch knocking the air from your lungs. All you could do was grip and claw at the blankets. A whine caught in your throat, making it way up to the surface. König pulled out a tad bit before he was pushing himself in again, inch by aching inch. He didn’t stop until he was mostly sheathed inside but leaving his knot out. Stopping to catch his breath and for the whine to rip out from your throat.
You tried wiggling your hips a little, to help with the odd angle. König’s hands came down on your ass, loud and stinging. Causing you to yelp and push forward, König cock slipping out a tad bit. But he was quick to follow, bullying his cock back into your sensitive and too tight of hole.
“König, please. It’s too much.” your muffled voice could barely be heard. But he still heard you, inhaling a deep breath before he began pumping in and out of you. Slow and deep but the more he rolled his hips into you the faster they became. His grip on your hips became bruising. You could feel the slight bulb of his knot, it was trying to make its way inside.
The force of his thrusts causing you to fall even more forward in the blankets, until your stomach was completely flush to the ground. König thighs anchored for leverage on either side of you. His heels digging into the ground. The Beast was fucking you just like you should be, like a bitch in heat. Breeding you like an Alpha should breed an Omega. Wishing he was in his true form but this human suit will do for now.
Your pussy was taking him so well, swallowing and squeezing his length. Gripping onto his cock, trying to hold it in place. At this point you were seeing stars, head spinning and mouth dry. Nothing but gasps, whimpered and moans leaving your mouth. You tried to push back on him a bit but he only grabbed your hand and held it to your lower back. Using it as an anchor to you, his grip on your hips loosened and using his other hand to rest near your head. Your mouth found his wrist, sucking on it lightly. König took the opportunity to shove his fingers in your mouth, making you suck them, tasting yourself.
König adjusted his position, resting on his feet instead of his knees. Using all his force to pound into you. Rutting his cock deep, hitting your poor cervix over and over. If you weren’t so turned on and in a bliss you would have noticed the building pain setting into your uterus. But you didn’t want it to stop. Pushing you hips back to meet König’s eager thrusts.
König pulled out, leaning back on his heels, flipping you around and pulling you to his cock. You sucked in so much air, filling your aching lungs. You were happy to not be face down anymore. Finally having a good view of the giant Alpha in front of you. König lifted your ass up and over his knees, still leaning back on his heels. Lining himself up again and pushing inside. Using your whole body to shove down on his cock. You got s good look at his size, you didn’t know how to fit inside you. The girth alone making you shake with panic.
You were squeezing him so tight, your pussy trying to milk him dry. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. You looked up into his eyes, your own glassy and hazy. And his, well his were completely black. It scared you a bit, taking you off guard. Which only made your pussy squeeze him even more. All the animalistic noises coming from his chest. It sounded like a pack of dogs trying to break out. You reached up and held onto his face. Causing König to relax a bit, he let go of your aching hips and leaned over you. Using his own hips to push yours further over you. His mouth found yours, all teeth, nipping and licking.
His kisses were messy and sloppy, his eyes shut closed hard. Causing small wrinkles to form across his face. All you could do is hold on, while König pounded you into the floor.
König wasn’t going to last long, The Beast began to tire. His movements became a tad sloppy, he was so close. Gripping onto the floor, using it to help thrust into you harder. Your legs were shaking, and your muscles pleading for a break. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was the first time he spoke since he began eating your pussy. The Beast resided back into his mind, allowing König to finish the job. And it didn’t take long.
He nearly forgot about you under him, his orgasm hitting him like a sack of bricks. Popping his knot fully inside you for the first time. You could feel it inflating and plugged your hole. He leaned his head back, letting it wash over him. A growl ripped from his throat, deep and guttural. Causing the windows and doors to shake. His seed was hot as it flooded you, König was still slowly rolling his hips, chasing his high. His knot blocking any cum from leaking out, making sure it soaks into your womb.
His nose found your neck, sniffing in your scent. His tongue dragging over the scar, teasing the sensitive skin around it. You ran your fingers up and down his back, feeling every bulge of muscle. König let his teeth sink into your scar, opening it up again. It caused his own to tingle and burn. Fully bonding you together. He let his head completely fall, resting against the soft blankets below you. You still cling onto him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. His knot solid as a rock, not letting up one but.
Your slowly drew circles on his back, until you became overpowered by exhaustion and sleep. Letting your eyes close and your mind going blank.
König felt you drift off to sleep below him, his knot softening enough for him to pull out of you. He didn’t want any of his cum to go to waste. He moved you over in the nest, pulling the warm covers over your sleeping naked body. He rose from his feet and went to take a quick shower. Returning in nothing but a towel to dry his body off. Leaving his hair wet as he climbed back into the nest with you. Pulling you into his chest, the low pur that your like so much reverberating in the quiet room.
Days with König were long, you found yourself spending most days alone. You caught up on all your shows over the week you had off from work. You even read a few books. But none of that sated your desire to do something. When König was home he’d have you on your back with your legs around his shoulders. Making sure to service you anytime he could.
You enjoyed it but it got tiring fast. He wouldn’t let you leave but you had no intentions on it. After the first night in bed together, your first peak at The Beast. König apologized in the morning, running a hot bath for you to enjoy while he made breakfast. He tried so hard to keep him at bay but he took over which was alarming to him.
Unbeknownst to you König had your dingy little apartment packed up, and he broke your lease. Moving what he could into a storage unit for you to go through later and getting rid of the rest. He also took it upon himself to call up for place of work and put in your resignation letter. He saw no need for you to work, he made enough money to keep both of you happy.
All while you were tucked away in the penthouse. When you woke the next morning you found the place as clean as when you first walked in. Again it made your skin crawl, it didn’t feel like a home. You stayed away from the windows as the look down made your stomach roll. Most days when König arrived back home he’d find every curtain drawn closed.
He was giving you time to adjust, to get comfortable in your new space. You still weren’t allowed on the other side of the house. He kept all the doors locked, specially his office. After waking in the middle of the night a few days into your heat. You heard a few voices coming from that room,you could smell the scent they left when they walked in.
By now your heat was nearly gone, and you were feeling almost back to normal. You were eager to go back to work the next morning. You sat in the livingroom, watching another rerun of your favourite show. Waiting for König to arrive from where ever he leaves to. You didn't know much about him, he didn't talk about himself a lot. Any question you did have were met with vaugr short word answers. You guessed it was for the better.
It was very late into the night when König finally got home. Hearing the door open and click closed. Followed by his heavy footsteps and his delicious sent wafting into the penthouse. "What are you still doing up?" his accent was thick tonight. "I was waiting for you." you said while yawning, stretching you arms out. "Well wasn't that sweet of you." König came to the couch, picking you up and setting you in his lap.
"I wanted to talk." you were playing with his necklace he wore, dog tags, he called him once. "About?" König stopped your fidgeting hand and brought it to his mouth, giving each finger a little kiss. "Well tomorrows my first day back to work. And you still haven't replaced my phone. I've already been stressing about all the missed calls and emails I've been-" you began but were cut off. "Your not going back to work." he said it so casual, taking interest in the dumb show you were watching instead of what you were saying.
He felt you still in his arms, looking down to see you glaring at him. "What?" he asked. "I'm going back to work." was all you said. König rolled his eyes, he hated when you picked fights. And you did it often, over small things he found irrelevant. "I said no, Omega. Plus I already let them know." he tried to play with you hair but was met with a slap to his hand. "You what!" you pushed yourself off of him, shoving his hands away that tired to stop you. "Please tell me you joking. Haha, funny!" you were panicking now.
Pacing back and forth in front of him. Your scent turned sour and it stung König's nostrils. "You don't need to work love." he tried to stop you, to make you sit but you kept moving just out of his reach. "I can't believe this." you threw your hands in the air. "And you didn't even answer the question about my phone." you pointed at him. "It's on the way, don't worry about it." he didn't understand your reaction.
You should be happy that you didn't have to work, he's your Alpha, he's supposed to take care of you. "König, you can't just change my whole life without telling me." you stood in his way, blocking his view of the TV. "I guess this is a bad time to tell you that I broke your lease." he knew it was a bad time but better than later. "What!" you screamed. You hands coming out to try and hit him but he just grabbed you and oulled your skirming body into his. "It's good Omega." he was trying to calm you down, releasing the our from his chest. "Oh no you don't." you managed to break free. "Your crazy, fucking crazy. How could you think that was ok to do, and not tell me." you were fuming. "I did tell you-" he tried to explain. "Shut up." you yelled back.
You stormed off towards the hallway that led to your bedroom. König got up, leaving the TV playing as he followed you like a lost pup. Before he could make his way to the bedroom you slammed the door in his face, turning the lock quick. König sighed in frustration, knowing that it was going to be a long night. And all he wanted to do was cuddle and maybe play with your pussy a bit. But now he's sitting outside his bedroom door, like a dog thrown out.
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Tag list: @plumdreadful @traumaramacenter @kaylp-godly @napalmfairy7 @hisa-plush @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @winters-doll @joyfulfxckery @purebeskar @collete25 @fandomsinthegalaxies
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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König Headcannons
A/N: just like Ghost’s headcannon’s I’m taking inspiration from my experiences living on a military base
Warnings: NSFW
König x F! Reader
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• König initially first met you while you were volunteering with the United Nations & Doctors Without Borders
• you were administering vaccines to children in the Middle East, & providing medical services to the underprivileged communities
• he was awe of your empathy & kindness towards these children, you treated them like they were your own & took your job super seriously
• KorTac was providing security for the community from potential terrorist attacks, as taking any western countries citizen for ransom seemed enticing
• After a surprise attack on the camp that was set up, he immediately brought you to safety & held you as you sobbed into chest out of fear for your life & all those innocent civilians that caught in the gunfire
• “shhh, schatz it’ll be okay” he whispered to you
• he finally asked you out after months of waiting for the right time
• you were giving him his flu shot when he asked you out
• your first date was in his off post apartment, he had cooked you homemade Austrian food
• his cooking is divine, he always chef’s it up in the kitchen
• you guys moved in only a few months into dating (which seems early but in the military world you’re slacking)
• he proposed with his Oma’s ring
• he also asked your parents over FaceTime for your hand in marriage, they were reluctant but he was very persuasive
• you’d probably wind up working at the hospital on post, & the soldiers that come in 100% know you’ll take care of them
• during Christmas leave both of your families meet in Vienna for Christmas time, I mean cmon Vienna is gorgeous at Christmas
• you two announce your pregnancy at Christmas dinner
• his Oma jumped up & ran over to hug you
• this man’s genes are freakin strong
• you definitely get pregnant with twins
• König is deployed when you find out & you tell him over FaceTime
• he cried pure tears of joy & his whole team celebrated
• due to the fact he’s like a giant he produces large babies
• you’d have to get a c-section for the birth because of it, & König makes it in the last second.
• he still had his hood on & was in his tactical gear scaring the entire nursing staff
• imagine their surprise when he just asks where his wife is
• you have a girl & a boy
• they’d definitely be named after his grandparents
• he sings lullaby’s in Austrian to them to introduce them to his home country’s culture
• he hates leaving for deployments now that they’re born & he definitely became more ruthless on the battlefield due to it
• he 100% would bring the babies to work whenever it was a mandatory fun day or a super relaxed day at work
• these hardened military men would be all over your babies & arguing as to who gets to hold them next
• they’re very well protected & König made sure of that
• he’s a family man at heart & he will do anything to protect them
✨NSFW ✨
• you weren’t very experienced when you met König & when you first saw his cock you were in absolute disbelief a man could be that hung
• you let your intrusive thoughts win & asked if he’d fit inside of you
•it took a lot of foreplay for him to fully fit snug in you
• he definitely would say the most absolutely filthy things in Austrian to you even if you understood them or not
• massive size & breeding kink
• he just loves how small your hands are compared to his cock you need both of them to jerk him off
• when he found out you were pregnant he was elated that his efforts worked out
• loved to see your body change & baby bump grow
• also loved how horny you were as a pregnancy symptom ( it killed him that you’d have to deal with that alone while he was deployed)
• like most military men he too has a collection of your nudes & plenty of videos of him fucking you
• he loves your hips & how wide they are to him it digs deep into the primal instinct of carrying his babies
• König is just as stealthy in bed as he is in on the battlefield
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skeletalgoats · 7 months
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SMUT WARNING UP AHEAD
●☆●
MAKING OUT WITH DESPERATE KÖNIG
(FEMALE READER)
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Imagine just making out with König while he's desperate for you.
Like he throws you in his room, onto the bed, and just making out with you violently as he unzips his pants and starts stroking his cock, feeling it grow painfully hard.
He would literally begin whimpering while attempting to strip you.
The moment he finally discards all your clothes, he grabs your legs, throws them over his shoulder, and begins eating you out like he never ate in a week.
He pulls out many orgasms from you in many different positions...you can go from your legs being hooked over his shoulders to sitting on his face while he laps at your clit.
And if you think he's done with you after eating you out....you're so wrong.
He shoves 2 fingers inside of your already sensitive heat, thrusting them in and out overwhelmingly fast while crashing his lips into yours, making sure that you taste yourself on his tongue.
The moment he finishes pulling 2 more orgasms out of you, he pulls his fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth so you can lick them clean before flipping you over and fucking you doggy style.
The amount of orgasms that he pulled out of you has you singing for him, begging him to stop, and his size just makes it worse.
His lips trail all over you, from the back of your neck to your shoulders and hips.
König cums the hardest he ever has inside of you, filling you up before you both fall back onto the bed panting, as you feel yourself being cuddled by him, as he tells you how good you are.
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lovelyghst · 25 days
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könig always takes his time prepping his girl to take him. he spends the better part of an hour on his stomach or knees, licking and lapping at your pretty pussy ‘til you cum on his tongue, many times. just to crawl back up so he can sweet-talk you into a couple more orgasms, delving his fingers into your dripping seam for the same, long amount of time. only after, will he finally fuck you with his cock.
at least when he’s living at home, anyways.
but when he’s been gone for upwards of a month or few, just now seeing you for the first time since his departure? christ, he’s utterly desperate. ripping your panties down your thighs so quickly you hear a tearing noise in the fabric, barely making it to your knees before he’s rushing to have his big head beneath your sundress. wasting no time in devouring you limp and swollen, cramming his fingers in without warning to make you cry out in surprise, pumping them in and out feverishly as he sucks on and tongues at your little clit.
it’s a bit painful at first, that’s a given, but you quickly become relaxed and dulcet by the time he’s coaxing out a second load, the first one already fucked deep inside you and coating his cock in a creamy sheen. you’re lucky he finishes quick after such a dry spell.
he feels bad afterwards, and he always tries to make it up to you as best he can; from the moment he pulls out before lowering himself to watch his pearly cum drip from your precious pussy, leaning in and eating it out of you, to the many days that follow. like, major princess treatment. nonstop kisses and praises; he’s at your beck and call. it’s all absolutely, without a doubt, crucial to his and your routine. <3
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rileysluvr · 9 months
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something really short cause i have nothing else. könig nsfw
just imagine a situation where you’re forced to sit on könig’s lap because there’s less room than needed on the small military aircraft due to a field emergency, so you opt for his space because he’s the closest person to you out of the bunch and not to mention the largest, kindest, most comfortable looking one. he’s so hesitant at first but it’s all kept internal because he could never say no to you, let alone stand to watch you on another man’s lap for the next two hours. he begins to question if he prioritized the correct things, however, when he ultimately fails at suppressing his hard-on after just barely managing for the first half hour of the flight.
you feel his dick practically digging into your ass through the multiple layers of cargo pants, and he knows his prayers for discretion have gone unanswered when you adjust your hips against his lap. the feel of it surprises you—you want to laugh, why now?—but the entire concept of it does not come as a shock; it only nourishes the given cockiness in you. you’d have to be a blind mutt not to notice the way he looks at you, shying away when he thinks you’ve caught him staring. silly guy. the hood doesn’t hide all, könig.
“scheiße, du schweinehund,” he breathes defeatedly to himself, eyes squeezed shut in humility. he’s the only mutt here, really. he can’t imagine how pink his cheeks have gone, except for the fact that they feel like they’ve been repeatedly grazed by a blowtorch you hold. he musters up a straight voice, yet his words just barely break past a whisper; “…forgive me.” he grits his teeth and bites his tongue, “gott—i am not in the correct headspace right now, i-i am so sorry.”
you giggle that same laugh that had his knees threatening to buckle in on most days. “it’s okay, könig, really,” you tell him, so convincing and so sweet that he has no choice but to believe it to be true. still, he’s beyond mortified. you hum after a few seconds, “more than okay.” he sucks in a sharp breath. you don’t need to see him to know what sort of affect you’re having on him, arms crossed over your chest while his are unsteady and sweaty at his sides. he’s so awkward, it’s adorable.
like this, you can truly absorb all of him like you never could on an average day; he’s soft spoken off the field and with a deeper drawl, and far more reserved. that manly, post-mission musk of his, apparent through the close proximity, is only insanely attractive. and he’s just so. fucking. big. you lean further back against his frame, head resting on his broad shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating at his ribs against your upper back. with everyone else chatting amongst themselves or already deep into their sleep, you wouldn’t mind teasing him a bit.
“i actually think it’s really cute,” you add, with another slight of a giggle, of course. “and hot.” you bite and bite and he groans so lowly every time, something almost of a broken whimper, you’d say. you wiggle your hips a bit, not terribly noticeable to the outside world but he swears your every action comes with a bite of an aphrodisiac. you smirk and he hears it, right past the nonchalance in your voice; “and quite impressive, i’d say.”
you hear a whine die in his throat—it’s fucking whorish, and needy—along with another swear, and in an instant, you’ve made up your mind to take him out of the public eye once you land and show him just how impressive he really is.
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l0v3tast3 · 11 months
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horny thoughts ! bc this is all i can write rn ig other things are in progress i swear ヽ(*・ω・)ノ
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könig who can't get enough of how you react when he finally opens you up enough to bottom out inside you. he knows his size and your limits, and he never pushes in too fast, always makes sure to keep his face and hands between your thighs until you're boneless and making the sheets wet with your cum and his spit. and it's always worth it. he loves it all, he loves doing just about anything you'll let him do to you; but the way desperately grab at him, how you choke on the air you try to pull in, the way you always whine and grind your hips into his to get him to start moving when they meet your thighs or ass is his favorite part.
"be patient, hase, i don't want to hurt you," he'll say while he grinds down into you, always making your back arch and your brain empty without fail. "you want me to make you feel good, right? i will, liebling, i promise. can you be good for me and wait? i know you can, you're always so good for me," könig whispers, always pressing himself close to you. he runs his hands over your body, massaging the pressure points that push whiny moans through your puffy lips.
you always cling to him so tightly, digging your nails into his arms and shoulders and back, trying so hard to ground yourself from how stuffed you are as he rolls his hips to push in even deeper. könig loves how you clutch onto him; he gets the idea to tie your hands to the headboard one day, just to see how desperate you would get. you almost cried, nearly-incoherently begging for him to please, please let you touch him before he unties you. he almost feels bad. "shh, it's alright hase, don't cry. i'll make it up to you. what do you want me to do, hm? tell me, süß, what can i do?"
and once he eventually starts dragging his thick cock back and sinking back in, könig commits to heart every noise you make, every whimper and moan and whine for when he gets deployed. he memorizes how your body reacts, how your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open. how your legs shake and you arch your back and try to push your hips into his to match his thrusts as he steadily quickens his pace.
könig who's just so in love with how you react to him <3
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hase = "bunny" , liebling = "darling" , süß = "sweet" (u should look up the pronunciation) , also sowwy for the uber amount of tags lol (* ̄▽ ̄)b
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kneelingshadowsalome · 5 months
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Christian Woman
König x Nun!Reader
Word count: 12.5 k Tags/warnings: 18+ pure FLUFF & SMUT & COMFORT
First time/loss of virginity, implied consent, teasing, corruption kink, fingering, cunnilingus, thighing/intercrural sex, protected p in v. Silly, sweet, kind of innocent, kind of naughty. Romance, forbidden love trope, love as a religion, happy ending. 
Part 3/3
Everytime König enters your life, you start to lie.
You lie about where you’re going and where you’ve been, you lie about who you see and what you do. People think you’ve helped some foreign man to hospital, that you were away last night to make sure he got safely into treatment. You told them he was some poor fellow who got stabbed and robbed on the street and that you called the ambulance from his phone and that the police needed to see you today for further questioning. 
You lie and lie and lie, and then slip out to see König, who’s hopefully alive and still in the same place you left him last night.
When you enter the old, half-demolished building now serving as a B&B, the same old man from last night looks up with wary eyes. He immediately relaxes back to reading his paper when he sees you’re only the harmless, grey nun from last night. 
You sneak upstairs without exchanging a word with him and go straight to König’s door. Giving it a quick knock and uttering, “It’s me,” you half expect to get shot through the wooden entrance. But there only comes a happy “Come in” from behind the door, and you notice König hasn’t even locked the damn thing. Is he expecting you, or is he simply that confident with his gunslinger skills?
Turns out he’s probably both, because you freeze right there on the doorstep when you step in.
He’s wearing nothing but boxers this time, and your eyes fly straight back to his eyes after being glued to the prominent package between his legs for far too long. And good God, the man’s got some muscles on those legs... 
“Hallo, Kätzchen,” he greets, giving you an obnoxiously flirty smile upon noticing how flustered you look.
“You… You shouldn’t be up yet,” you quickly turn to close the door. 
“I have to use the bathroom, no?”
He looks at you from across the room, so innocent and sweet and, at the same time, so mischievous that you don’t know what to do or where to look. He’s gotten rid of the hood, but there are traces of black paint around his eyes, it still clings to his brows, making him look like someone who just came home from a carnival. You want to go to him and wipe it away and tell him that he missed a spot and that he’s clumsier than you thought, but you can’t... You can only fall deeper into your awkward shyness as he raises his brows. 
He turns what appears to be the shreds of his old shirt in his hands, then dumps it into the bin, suddenly a little nervous too. There are moments when you have suspected that König might suffer from social anxiety or shyness around people, but he covers it very well. Around you, the man seems to be at ease, flirts and jokes with you often and is very straightforward with his intentions.
You wonder if he likes you so much simply because you are unattainable. 
Maybe you represent some girl next door to him, perhaps you remind him of his first love. Perhaps you happen to be something so sweet, innocent, and unreachable that he feels strong and safe in your company. Perhaps holding hands and trading a few passionate kisses feels safer than going after a real relationship… Perhaps this Will they, won’t they situation is enough excitement for him, too.
Or perhaps König has been so wounded by women that he prefers to be around a frigid – or at least very virginal – nun rather than face the dangers of approaching a real, attainable woman.
But flaunting himself like this in front of you is yet another clear sign that he, at the very least, loves to tease you to death. He looks like he’s in far better condition than yesterday, and starts to peel off the bandage like it’s just a scratch he suffered. 
“Let me help you with that,” you rush to him, silently relieved when he lets you clean the wound and change the bandage. He even lays himself down to be treated by you and smiles with his signature grin as you fuss around him.
“Not a word,” you risk a glance his way while gently cleaning the wound.
“Not a word,” he promises with a cheeky smile, and gets another erection. 
It’s even worse when he’s wearing nothing but his underwear... You can see the bulge stretching the fabric, forming a tight, thick curve right next to you as you try to focus on your task.
“Perhaps you should put some clothes on,” you offer while trying to concentrate on examining the skin for any signs of irritation.
“Eh. They’re dirty.”
“I can go and ask if they have a laundry room here,” you propose. “I could wash them for you. Do you need a new shirt?”
Ugh, what a stupid question...
“Why not,” he shrugs. “If the view is unpleasant...”
“Behave yourself now,” you say with a soft smile. “XL…?”
“At least.”
He must be getting better if he’s behaving like this... The man’s insufferable enough when he’s uninjured, but now that he’s getting pampered, he’s somehow even worse. You bite your lip as he dares to moan on the bed, too. You’ve brought him food last night, and he’s being treated carefully and touched softly, he’s getting his clothes washed for him, he’s got his own personal nun worrying about him 24/7. Of course he’s moaning.
And you’re in danger because you just love to pamper him. It feels more meaningful to treat his wounds and run on errands than do the eternal dishes at the convent. You feel like you’re saving a life here... Like someone actually needs you, depends on you. You feel so wanted, and König seems to fully agree with you.
“I could live the rest of my life like this,” he purrs on the bed as you gently put a fresh bandage in place.
“I have no doubt about that.”
“Are you really going to get me a new shirt…?” He asks with bright puppy eyes – the faked innocence is so blatant you want to throw a pillow over that face.
“If you give me some money to buy one, then yes.”
“You can have as much as you want. Buy yourself something nice while you’re at it, hmm? As a reward.”
“I don’t do this for the sake of rewards.”
“I know... But you could buy yourself anything you want. A new dress, new jeans, lingerie… Give me a little fashion show when you get back?”
König knows you’re probably the last woman on earth who’s interested in shopping sprees, let alone new jeans or sexy lingerie. Your only summer dress resides at your parent’s house as a relic from the past, a token from your life before sisterhood. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t want to see his face when you do a little twirl before his bed, wearing nothing but a laced bra and some matching strings… 
“Give you a fashion show?” you laugh. “When did thanking me turn into you profiting from it?”
“I’m just saying... If you need new underwear, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
You snort and shake your head slowly. “You’re far too cheeky when you’re injured. I truly hope you get better soon.” 
“I don’t,” he crosses his arms behind his head, looking perfectly pleased with himself while lying there in nothing but his underwear. “And neither do you.”
“Excuse me? Of course I do…!”
“No, I don’t think so. You like to take care of people, I can see it. You’d make a good field medic.”
“I doubt that.”
“You remain calm under pressure,” he says. “And you take good care of me.”
“That’s only because you were silly enough to get shot.”
“...And I would do it again if it leads to this,” he grins.
“Cheeky,” you shake your head reprimandingly. “Far too cheeky.”
“You are an angel,” he says gently. “And I mean that.”
You rise to put the trash in the bin, then look back at him. “No, I’m not. I’m just some woman you bumped into in the street.”
“That’s exactly what an angel would say.”
You sigh: it’s useless with König, hopeless, like trying to wrestle with God. No matter what you say or do, he always turns it against you in the sweetest possible way. It’s like he's stripping away pieces of your armour – you fear nothing will be left before this visit is done.
“Did you eat any of the food I brought you…? You need to eat something, and drink a lot of water–” You take a look at the side table, noticing he has already eaten everything you got him last night. “Gosh. You must be getting better if you have an appetite like this...”
König only laughs on the bed. “I’m sorry, Kätzchen, but that was just a snack.”
You brought him three sandwiches, at least a dozen apples and a bag of walnuts, but they’re all gone. Of course a soldier of his size eats like a horse, and he needs all the food he can get, having gone through the wringer last night.
“I’d kill for a Schnitzel and a tall beer,” he sighs dreamily on the bed, no doubt knowing you well enough to tell that you’ll get him anything he wants if he only plays this wounded soldier role right. 
You begin to doubt if his injuries were ever that serious. It just looked bad last night because he was so tired, and there was blood everywhere... With a bleak blink, you realize most of the blood you cleaned off of him last night probably wasn’t his own.
He’s in a cheery mood now, looking at you hopefully from the bed, arms crossed behind him, legs out long, wearing nothing but those stupid black boxers and that goshdarned, sweet smile.
“Do you think you could get me one of those big Schnitzels somewhere…? You know, the really big ones.”
“Maybe,” you cross your arms over your chest, and furrow your brow when he visibly perks up on the bed a little. “I said maybe. We’ll see. And you’ll get water instead of beer.”
“Shame.”
“You don’t need alcohol right now. Plus I can’t just go and buy beer looking like this.”
He smiles. The man’s all smiles today… Probably because of all the blood loss. Or maybe because you’re the girl next door who’s going to bring him his favourite food. 
“Of course not,” he says, with hazy love in his eyes. “I am already forever in your debt, Kätzchen.”
It’s not a sin to take a nap together.
That’s what you tell yourself as you curl next to König after you bring him his Schnitzel, shirt, and a few bottles of sparkling water. 
“There’s plenty of room for both. Come on, I won’t bite,” he shifts on the bed and extends his hand to invite you in. 
You lay yourself down next to him and tell yourself it’s just to please a recovering man. There’s nothing sexual about it, so why not?
Still, your body is singing by the time he takes your hand in his own, wrapping both your arms around your middle like you’re an established couple about to get some sleep together.
Raindrops are slowly tapping on the window, and you tell yourself you’re just resting your eyes a bit as your lids drift closed. König is already snoring behind you, with another erection pressed against your back. You’re not intimidated by it: it only feels natural to cuddle him like this. The rain turns into a languid rap, and you know you won’t be leaving this building in a while. With the contentment of a cat who’s finally warm and safe, you fall into a deep sleep.
You stir after an hour or two, waking up to such a pleasant, safe feeling you don’t quite remember when you’ve ever felt this good. König has buried his face in your neck, somewhere in the folds of your coif, probably in an attempt to reach some skin. He pulls you closer when you try to shift, rumbling contently behind you.
“Sleep well…?”
“Mm...”
The moment is so lazy and cosy you don’t want to get up. A large, warm hand flexes against your stomach as König buries his face deeper under the veil. He reaches the skin of your neck and inhales deeply, making all the tiny hairs across your body shoot up. 
You let him kiss you there, and he does it with reverence, like he’s kissing a holy idol. It’s chaste enough but makes you go taut in his hold – in fact, you have to use all your willpower not to moan out loud.
“I think I need to go now,” you whisper, doing absolutely nothing to act on that threat.
“Mm–hm,” he agrees while keeping your body hugged tight against him. 
“König… Really, I need to get back...”
“Ja... Ok,” he mutters, hand traveling up the thick black cotton of your habit. It meets your breast and cups it without shame. You feel the hot, hard length twitching against your back, making leaving this bed less and less tantalizing.
You whine when he starts to fully paw your breast, thrusting his hips up and against your butt. The kiss turns into a love bite right after as he starts to use teeth on your neck – your back arches on instinct, a broken sigh slipping through your lips. He can't be serious... A hickey-covered neck is the last souvenir you want to bring back from this nap.
“You said you wouldn’t bite,” you whimper, but he just laughs softly. The sound is thick and breathless, cinders and smoke so close to your ear that you’re shamefully wet even without his other… advances.
The afternoon is mellow, it has stopped raining, but you wish you could stay on this spun sugar bed with him forever. You know what you want already; in your heart, you’ve made a giant decision, but the overwhelming realisation is too much to bear. 
And so you rip yourself away from his arms and flee once again. He’s the devil himself, smiling on the bed with another proud erection tenting his pants. Rushing back to the convent, adjusting your veil as you go, your mind is plagued with the image of König reaching a hand down those boxers and enjoying a long, drowsy masturbation session while you have to hurry home for Mass.
Christ… 
It only took 24 hours to make you melt in his arms like snow.
And the “naps” become a habit as you haul him food or clothes, new from the store or clean and warm from the drier. You bring him a fresh pair of boxers, too, since he only had the clothes on his back when he was shot. He’s ever so grateful for his saving angel, who he gets to cuddle “as a reward”. You don’t quite know if it's a reward for you or him.
Sometimes, he’s cleaning his gun or doing wall pushups when you arrive, indicating that he’s still recovering but getting better every day – and more restless by the minute. At some point, you’re not even napping anymore; you only lay down with him to snuggle and make out, feeling like a shy teen when you only let him touch you over your clothes. His hands explore you literally everywhere except between your legs because that’s when you gently guide his eager paws away.
You wonder if this is what drugs feel like to some people. You’re fully in the present moment, swimming in a soft bliss, calm and whole and sweet and good. Everything in the world is just as it should be.
“If you ever come to Austria, I will take you to the mountains,” König mumbles nonsense into your hair, freed one day from the confines of your veil and coif. It’s a surrender in every meaning of the word – your clothes are the last literal protection you have against his attempts to worship you.
“Perhaps we’ll stay there... Forget all this,” he chatters lazily, clearly in the same sweet bubble as you. “Ja, that sounds good… I’ll keep you there until you come to your senses.”
“That sounds like a kidnapping scenario,” you comment with a soft smile on your lips.
“Ah. My plan is ruined.” 
You crane your head to look at him. “No... Not ruined.” 
“No?”
“Just exposed.”
You figure it was only a matter of time before this snuggle turned into another make out session. This time, the shared kiss is purposeful, full of presence and slow need. The anxiety is gone, the rights and wrongs of this world tucked somewhere far away.
“We need to stop doing this,” you whisper into his mouth, brain turning into mush from the way he holds you so gently.
“Why…? It feels nice…”
You can’t argue with that, and when his hands start to travel, you do nothing to stop them. 
He slides a palm down your curves, pulls you closer by the waist, cups your butt when you don’t seem to protest. Usually, this sort of behaviour has been a little too much, you have treated it as a bridge that shouldn’t be crossed. Now, you let his hand travel down your thigh, you allow him to grab a handful of your skirt and slowly, slowly drag it up.
When you still don’t protest, his unhurried kiss turns into a delighted, hungry one. 
He finds nothing but skin underneath your dress, and starts to explore your thigh with a trembling hand. He's warm and big, both gentle and calloused, and you can’t help but think how obscene you must look with your black robes dragged up like that, a man’s hand desperately searching for the treasure between your legs while your mouths devour each other in a slow, sloppy kiss. 
His fingers slide up, up, up until they meet the fabric of your panties, then come to a halt right above the mound of your sex. In both horror and thrill, you find your thighs parting, inviting him in, heart racing in your chest as König finds your underwear not only wet but soaked through.
That’s when he groans – into your mouth, hot breaths hitting your face as he examines you through the panties like it’s business as usual that you’re so wet. You’re both ashamed and exhilarated – you haven’t even shaved. And he’s about to…
“Mh–”
You feel him probe the side of the fabric, then casually sliding your poor, soaked underwear aside. Your wet folds are exposed to cold air and warm fingers; the last of your armour, your pride and shame and vows, drift away like they were made of nothing but simple steam. 
He drags his fingers across your folds, unhurried and pleased to meet you so ready. The fact that this man could crush your windpipe or break your spine, he could grab your thighs and force them apart like sticks, have his way with you if he wanted, doesn’t make you afraid of him like it probably should. You know he would never hurt you, but the intensity, the intimacy in his glare and touch, are enough to make the air around you feel electric. 
“You’ve never been with anyone…?” 
The question is breathless and thick, causing your core to tighten.
“No…” 
Is it that obvious…?
“Hmm.”
“‘Hmm’ what…?”
“Nothing. You’re sweet.”
He doesn’t try to steal a peek at your glistening sex, all bared and slick for him. He only has eyes for you. Your rushed breaths, how they hitch in your throat when he brushes a thumb over your clit. Your lids, fluttering over defenceless eyes as you try to search for something to ground you. But there’s nothing to hold on to but him, so you anchor yourself in the dark hunger of his eyes.
“I tried to leave you alone. I truly tried, Kätzchen… But you’re so sweet it’s illegal.”
The words hit you, loaded with lust, but you’re too weak to answer him anymore. Pitch-black darkness stares back at you as the sounds of your drenched pussy fill the room. You want to touch him too, but you’re too shy, still trying to silence the buzzing beehive of your brain and come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. 
“I should’ve come back for you… I knew I should have, right away. I was too dumb, meine Liebling…”
Starved and dreamy, he looks down at you, whole body tight as you hold on to him and take in his confession. Only, you feel like you’re the one who’s confessing here… He seems to read you like a book, giving you just enough to keep that adoring look on your face.
He slips a finger in, and you stop breathing for a second, the room seems to go darken, even when it’s high noon. Time slows down while your heart thunders in your chest, giving you a sense of urgency where there is none. Pulling out and adding another finger straight away, he ushers a mewl out of you.
Your fingers curl around his shirt, pulling and tugging it as you try to keep intact. A deep rumble echoes in his chest when he sees you so pliant, clutching him like you’re drowning. 
“I know you want this,” he says, voice so rough that you barely recognize it’s him. “Don’t hold back…”
You try to beg him for more but the words come out as a whimper without a voice, causing something dark to flash behind his eyes. That’s all the reply you get: a pleased, filthy stare of someone who’s about to wreck you up. He must like his victims like this, too: on their backs, begging for mercy before he finishes them…
Blinking in despair, you try to drive the intrusive thoughts away, but he’s already upon you. Crossing the last breath of air between you, he captures your mouth in his.
You can do nothing but take, take, take: his fingers and his mouth, greedy for the rapture that’s already blooming in the distance, rising like a tidal wave. He won’t stop kissing you even when you spread your legs further – to what end, you don’t even know, because he fucks you without effort, keeps you pressed against him in a way that says you’re his.
You squeeze your eyes shut, tasting him, your whole body going tense before you erupt with a miserable, pained moan.
You reach the peak and break, right into his mouth, around his fingers, the weight of it all almost unbearable. He groans on your tongue, kissing you while you milk his fingers, your inner walls hugging him in waves.
Nothing moves except you, the shudders and squirms gradually leaving your body while he draws circles on your clit, lazy and somewhat absent-minded, like you’re his favourite toy now.
The release brings with it a roaring wave of sadness, a deep grief, something that has been locked up inside you for months – no, years, now brought to the surface from the bottom of a stagnant sea.
He lets you go reluctantly, releasing your mouth so you can breathe more freely. Burying his face into your neck, you decide to do the same, escaping to the solace of his strength while trying to prevent tears from welling up. 
König doesn’t yet understand that your release continues as a cleansing wave of relief; he only pulls out, slowly and carefully, gently sets your panties back where they were, straightens your dress, and hugs you as if nothing ever happened. 
You start to cry in full, not even knowing why. You just know you’ve wanted this for ages. This connection, this ecstasy, this mutual presence and fulfilment, this sense of belonging to someone. 
“Scheiße… Did I do something wrong?” 
König finally realizes you’re crying, and grows taut from the middle like an iron cord. The pure concern in his voice only makes you bawl louder and grip him tighter, and the man starts to veritably panic.
“Kätzchen, I–”
“No, no,” your jaw is shaking as you try to explain. “I just… It’s…”
You’re hugging him so tight that you don’t know where you end and he begins, but as König caresses your back, swallowing as he does it, you eventually come back down to planet Earth and back to this bed. 
“Did you like it…?” He asks, still with so much worry that you could announce your love for this man right away.
“Yes… Very much.”
“Gut.”
You think about returning the favour, but selfishly, you’d want nothing more than to stay here like this, in his arms, for just a few more minutes. Or an hour... Well, if you got to decide, you’d stay here for the rest of your life.
“Come here,” he says while you’re already locked in an inseparable embrace. He doesn’t make a single move to coax you into touching him in return, and after a few seconds, your voice comes out as a frail question.
“Should I… Do you want me to–?”
“Shh.”
Six months without him. 
Six months, and now you couldn’t bear to be apart from him for six hours.
You’re glad you were sensible enough to shave before running to him that morning. Making up more excuses about how you’re seeing your friend because she just suffered a terrible loss and needs some spiritual and emotional support, you sneak a couple of blocks down the street to see König. If anyone suspects something, they say nothing, but you feel the lies as a grimy cloak upon your shoulders as you hurry up the stairs of the B&B.
The shadows dissipate when König catches you in his arms. You get smothered with kisses as he spins you around, making you chastise him for being so careless with the wound. 
It’s, of course, difficult to scold a man who’s kissing you so profusely… You’re starting to feel like he wants it to open again so that he never has to leave this place. To be honest, you wouldn’t mind it either if you two stayed here forever.
“You’re crazy, and silly, and I like you,” you tell him while looking down at him – a strange thing to do, even if the man has picked you up like this once before. 
“Is that so?” 
His eyes always light up when he sees you, but now, he looks like a man in love.
“Yes... I like you a lot.”
“And I like you. Do you want to see how much?” 
He gives you that slightly crooked grin that reminds you of feline predators, or fantasy creatures who are up to no good. He also moves quickly for a man of his size, and before you know it, you’re thrown on the bed like a sack of potatoes. As you laugh and try to adjust yourself on the bedding, he’s already on his knees, head quickly disappearing under your robe.
God, he’s not going to–
“What are you doing…?” 
“Giving you a kiss,” comes a muffled voice under your dress.
He’s headed straight between your legs, two days worth of coarse stubble scraping the insides of your thighs as he goes.
“But… But what about your injuries?” You try to scurry upwards on the bed, hands shooting instinctively to hold his head in place before he does something utterly shameless. 
“König–”
“Sei ruhig.” 
God – you’re not the most confident woman when it comes to these things to begin with. It’s one thing for a man to lay his fingers on you and look you in the eyes while you cum, and another thing entirely to place his mouth where you’re wet and aching. 
What if he won’t like it...?
What if you’re not beautiful enough there? 
...What if you taste odd? 
You’re shy, as any woman would be on their first time getting head. You’re infinitely grateful to yourself for shaving because there’s a delighted, surprised sound under the robe when König strips you from your underwear.
“For me…?” 
He’s smiling at your pussy, voice dampened by the thick cotton, and you thank God that he can’t see your mortified face right now.
You brace yourself for a delicate kiss, maybe a tentative lick or two. But the soft tenderness of yesterday is gone as König presses his whole face into your sex, giving it a good inhale followed by a good, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. 
Wrenched awake from your semi-relaxed state, you jerk up on the bed as he does it again. Then come the flat-tongued, starved licks – your pussy wakes up after recovering from the initial shock, giving a full throb against his stubbled jaw. König breathes a short laugh against you, pleased with this response.
The noise of him “kissing” you is obscene and only gets worse when he drags his tongue up and down your slit. You truly hope the doors here are solid wood because you can’t stifle all the sounds that escape you. For some reason, it is vital for you not to let the old receptionist know that a humble sister of Christ is getting licked to ruin in his establishment. 
You’re stunned, and a bit appalled – was this all it took to turn your nose up to your vows? A big man with big arms and a big gun? Some guy who wants to get under your dress after a few weeks of acquaintance…?
Because that’s what this is, a few weeks’ acquaintance currently under your robes, eating you out like you’re his last meal. 
The things you’ve imagined him do to you are shameful; even now, you fantasize about König picking you up and taking you against a wall when he gets better. This man treats you right, he treats you sweet, but you want more, you need something earthly and raw, and him lapping you under your habit is precisely that. It’s ravenous and adorable at the same time, so conflicting that you don’t know who you are anymore. 
You’re going through several stages of ego death and bliss; you’re going through a crisis of faith and multiple rebirths while König is having a field day with your pussy. It should concern you that he’s so eager to wreck you like this. It should arouse suspicion that the playful aura of this man changes whenever he gets between your legs... He becomes deliciously dark somehow, dark and base and addictive, and you wind into another plane of existence with him, to someplace only reserved for you two. 
“König,” you whisper. “I’m– I’m about to cum…”
“Uh-huh. You have my permission.” 
It’s dark, again, so smooth and rich that your inner walls clench, then flood with pleasure and pain. The inevitable orgasm is thigh-shaking and soul-ripping, your moans long and pitiful now. They’re not whimpers but cries, bare and pained as he continues to bully you with his tongue, grunting silky sin into your core. 
You can feel yourself leak on his chin as you cum, violently, forgetting the whole existence of the man downstairs. He turns you into an overstimulated, limp, heady mess – your chest is heaving by the time König emerges from under your robes.
“Oh God…” 
It simply escapes from your lips when you see how wet his jaw is. There’s a pussydrunk look in his eyes as he takes a look at his good work.
All thoughts of What if he doesn’t enjoy it evaporate when you see the demanding erection between his legs, pointing at you so viciously that you feel pity for the fabric of his pants.
“Ja... I made you see God?”
“Stop it… You’re so cheeky...”
“Eh. And you’re technically still a virgin. We need to fix that, don’t you think?”
“I don’t feel like a virgin.” 
“Well… I can take the blame.” He gives you a naughty little wink. “Remember? I would go to hell for you.”
And as if you weren’t in over your head already, he starts to drag your robes up. Too limp to do anything about him unravelling you like that – not even wanting to prevent it – you continue to catch your breath as his eyes go wide.
“This is what you’ve been hiding under here all this time…?”
He tucks the thick fabric up until your breasts are exposed. You’re not wearing any bra; you stopped wearing them years ago as useless and immoral. Your nipples perk up from excitement under his stare, your panties wrenched down in a hurry, now crumpled and forgotten somewhere between your thighs – the look on his face is priceless as he takes in the view of your exposed body like you’re a Christmas present he just opened. 
“You naughty girl…” he says thickly, and while you’ve received plenty of attention these last two days, it still makes you feel odd to be adored like this. His hawk eyes fly back to you, the corner of his mouth tugging up with some new, nasty idea.
“Want to see what I got?”
Oh God…
You don’t even get to express your consent – which would be enthusiastic – before König pulls the waistband of his boxers down. 
The cock that springs free is long and thick, heavy and red-pink from the tip that’s pointing straight at you. Curving slightly to the side, it’s even bigger than you thought, somehow having been rendered harmless by his pants, making it seem hefty but never that tall.
Your friend was right about him – tall men have tall dicks… Big hands indicate a big dick, too, you remember as you watch how he wraps tall, lean fingers around himself, giving his shaft a slow half-stroke. 
“You want to practice with me?”
You quickly rip your eyes up to his – you’re the world’s lousiest nun, caught staring at a cock like that. König only seems proud that you’re so intrigued by it, his eyes watching over you with dark amusement. 
“Uh–huh,” you swallow and nod – Christ, your voice is breaking… 
And whatever he means by “practising”, you can only hope that he’s not going to put it inside. There’s not even a condom for crying out loud. 
It’s a sigh-inducing thing when he gets to it, rests the heavy head of him on your clit, then drags the fat tip down across your folds.
“F–uck…” his head falls back a bit, lids fluttering closed from the way your slickness feels against him. That’s the most sensitive spot in a man – more of your friend’s advice floods your brain as you watch how he does it again, rasping while guiding himself up and down your slit.
You’ve never seen him so serious: his brows furrow together as he explores your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself while stroking his length. Agonizingly slow, you can see his balls hang heavy and gradually pull tight as he continues to work his cock. 
You know you should touch him, return the favour at last – but it’s hard to interrupt a moment like this. You’re mesmerized to see him already tensing from the chest up, the tendons on his neck becoming visible as he grits his teeth together.
“Kätzchen…” he rasps, “Would you mind if I…”
You fear that he’ll ask for permission to slip it inside, tempted and weak-willed. And to be honest, you’re not sure if you’d have the will to deny him.
But that’s not what he has in mind, apparently, as he begins to fist himself in a slack hurry, with half-lidded eyes and a slightly open mouth. He just wants to cum like this and ease the pain that must be terrible after days of sexual tension…
And seeing you laid out before him, naked and dreamy and bare, licked stupid just moments ago isn’t helping, that’s for sure.
“No,” you whisper, “No I won’t mind…”
You brave your heart to reach out and touch him: it’s just a shy hand gliding down his chest, but it makes him groan from pleasure. A brush of fingertips across his abs, and his muscles contract, and when you slide your palm over his hipbone and coax him to come closer, he finally leans forward and on top of you.
“Kätzchen…” he groans in whispers now. “You’re so wet…”
He could slip it in from this position, search for your opening and rough it inside. It’s tempting, so alluring that you almost say please – but that would be a catastrophe, and so you only look up at him, speechless when he supports himself on his hands and starts to glide up and down, fucking himself between your thighs. 
The bulged tip caresses your clit each time he pulls back – you doubt you can cum another time like this, but he sure as hell tries his everything to get you off too. 
“You want it…” he grunts above you. “You want me to fuck you. Right...?”
“Yes… But–”
“I’ll get a condom.”
“No, wait–” 
Now it's your turn to panic. You were always taught that condoms are unacceptable, while simultaneously, you know you could never do it raw, not even with König.
This is a moral choice you've never had to face before, and your brain is no use to you now. It's riddled with chants of Put it in and Forget about the bloody plastic because even with your zero experience you know it wouldn't feel as good as skin.
"No? It's a sin or something?" 
König pants above you, both tired and needy, and you nod with pleading eyes, not knowing what else to do. 
"Ok… Ok," he adjusts to the new reality while hovering on the brink of eruption. "I'll talk you out of it later..."
You give him a small smile, and he answers it with his own, slowly, starts to move again. Just the feel of the smooth surface of his cock dragging up and down your slit is enough to bite your lip and moan. Sliding your hands over his waist and down his butt, you give him a good squeeze–
And were he inside you, the effects would have been disastrous.
He cums abruptly, with a stiff, broken groan as soon as your nails dig into his skin. Hot, heavy seed meets your folds; it’s thick, the spurts neverending as he continues to fuck himself between your thighs with little control. How you still have anything left to give, you cannot comprehend, but the sudden, messy orgasm of this indomitable man makes you cum as well. 
Everything’s hot and sticky and dreamlike, almost pornographic, your thighs drenched in cum as he ruts through the orgasm with you. You roll your hips in sync with his, arriving at the end of your own mellow, beautiful peak, wondering how on earth it can only get better every time you have sex… 
The afterwaves are magical; you basically came together, and it hasn’t even been in yet. If this is what sex is like, mind-blowing and relaxing, hot and sweet and fulfilling with the right person, then you feel both dumb and proud for saving yourself for König.
And you’re starting to realize that you might just have a boyfriend…
No – not a boyfriend.
You have a man.
König orders food – or goes downstairs in nothing but his shirt and boxers and makes the poor man order it – while you lie in bed, under covers, still high from all the lovemaking. The room must be smelling like a sex cave by now. 
You take a quick shower while waiting for the delivery, mentally berating yourself for being so reckless. Having a man cum all over your folds is not exactly a safe way to practice sex… You’re doing everything wrong, asking König if he has any diseases when he comes back. 
He just pulls you back into his arms with a gentle laugh and says: “What do you take me for, a jerk? Of course I’m clean, silly kitty.”
That calms your nerves a little. You’re feeling anything but virginal right now, and putting on the black, heavy robes of a nun doesn’t sit well with you. You leave them on the floor, making König a very happy man by deciding to sit on the bed completely naked. 
You reach for the comforter when there’s a knock on the door, and clutch it against your chest like a paid woman while König pays the courier – still in his black boxers and t-shirt, like he’s just a guy who happens to live here.
“What...? Eat?”
The smell of Nepalese food fills the room: the rich, mouthwatering scents in stark contrast to what you’re used to at the convent’s kitchen. Butter chickens, lamb koftas and flatbreads are laid out steaming on the bed between you, and König attacks the food like someone who hasn’t seen a meal in weeks.
It makes you smile; him being so happy with simple things such as good food and some kinky sex, a nice cuddle and a nap to top it off. He munches on the food with his mouth open because it’s so hot – the man’s secretly so greedy that you can’t help but wonder if he had enough love, food and shelter as a child.
“Do you do this often?” You ask when he rips another handful of flatbread to dip in the sauce. 
“Seduce women.”
“Seduce…?” He laughs. “Kätzchen, I couldn’t seduce a woman even if I tried.”
You’re unsure if he’s dodging the question or being humble – or worse yet, if it means you’ve been an easy conquest.
“You just did,” you point out, realizing you’re sulking when König tilts his head with curiosity. 
“Oh. I’m sorry… Did it hurt?”
You grab a pillow to throw at him, but he dodges it and laughs.
“Careful with the food…!”
And of course he isn’t. 
You decide it’s useless with him, and besides, jealousy is not a good look. But you just can’t help it... You’re so in love that it’s not even funny anymore.
To you, he’s a hero and a God in one man, he’s both Satan and the Saviour. But to König, you’re probably just a nice foreign friend... Some cute nun he met months ago, who he finally gets to grope and taste and, hopefully, soon fuck. He says he doesn’t have time for women, and yet he licks you like a professional – not like you know what a professional in this area feels like, but it’s pretty clear that König is not a virgin even if you are. 
It must be nice to live a dangerous life and bump into women on the street... Woo them off their feet and leave them yearning, then get shot and cared for by some fussy, naive nun who’s head over heels for him. Perhaps it’s his favourite pastime hobby to torture ladies with flowers and letters and some cock and then leave like a cowboy. You wonder if he has a girl in every city – girls who aren’t nuns, girls who know how to show him a good time.
“Kitten... I’m not like that,” he says, a curry-drenched piece of bread dripping sauce over his fingers. “I only hold hands with you. Now that you finally let me.”
And you don’t know what’s more decadent: eating naked on the bed after making love, or being a Catholic nun who’s about to beg a man to fuck you, with or without a condom.
He finally notices he’s about to make a mess on the sheets, and gobbles the food as quickly as he can before there’s sauce all over the bed. Licking his fingers with dark, glimmering eyes set on you, you quickly focus your attention on the food.
The bastard is flirting with you every chance he gets, even when you two are trying to eat... 
“Is this what you call holding hands?” You ask, reaching for a piece of bread he's offering you.
König looks at you a while longer, with an expression he sometimes wears when conversing about serious, deep subject, the issues of God and Heart.
“This is what I call liking someone so much it hurts.”
König learns your body language; he knows it like a native speaker by the end of the week. 
You, on the other hand, learn that he’s ticklish on the sides of his stomach and behind the ears. You discover that he gets hard if you caress his abs or whisper in his ear that you like him... You learn everything about what kind of handjobs he likes; you find out that he almost rips the sheets apart when you take him in your mouth.
You lie on top of him, you lie under him, you let him hold you any way he likes. He moves you around like a doll, kisses you until you’re soaked, laughs into your neck when you tell him he’s being impossible again. He loves your breasts religiously, bites and nibs and licks them until you grab his head and tell him you can’t take it anymore. He has an oral fixation for your body and has to kiss every part of you: your inner thighs, your hip bones, the quivering place just below the navel; your neck and fingers and arms, even the arch of your foot. 
You receive attention only reserved for saints, and fear that someone will notice the smell of cum on you, or the musk of a man, lingering in your hair. Your sisters could easily notice your flushed lips if they wanted to. They could see the dreamy smiles, eyes that have just seen God, but everyone is looking inward, and no one sees how you rebel against the Lord right under their nose.
You stay strong in your no condoms policy, but practice with König every day; you practice so much that his wound opens and starts to bleed.
“Oh my God…”
“Heh… It’s okay,” he says as your stare drifts down to the side of his stomach. The bandage is slowly blooming with red, and your crazy soldier would simply go on if you didn’t order him to lie down. 
You’re both naked as you start to patch him up, convinced that this is some sort of a punishment for being so reckless. König only smiles on the bed while you treat him; it’s like his master plan finally worked.
“I like it when you take care of me,” he explains while you clean up the wound. You raise your stare, and in place of a horny, able-bodied man, there’s briefly a boy, a kid who used to make himself sick as a child to get at least some attention.
“Has no one ever taken care of you…?” 
“Not really.”
He grunts when the antiseptic seeps inside the wound – you wince, sympathetic to his pain.
“Is that why you like me?” You try to chitchat and take his attention away from it, secretly nervous when fishing for details on why he would want to be with someone like you.
“There are many reasons why I like you.” 
“Such as…?”
“Your smile, for starters... I like that. And then… I really like your ass.”
“König...”
“What, I’m not allowed to?”
You purse your lips to scold him, but really, your heart hurts so much it burns. There are a million doors to this man, but he only keeps one or two open at a time, to prevent an attack of some sort. 
“I like your devotion,” he says, finally with some serious air about him. “Your kindness. You don’t hurt people.”
“...But you do,” you whisper. It’s not an accusation, only a comment. 
“I would never hurt you.”
The playfulness is gone, and while you miss it, you also like it when König gets fragile like this, stripping himself of all the shields that make him a strong, confident merc.
“Sometimes we have to fight for the things we love,” he continues, probably explaining why he endorses violence.
“Killing is a sin,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 
“Kätzchen... You can’t tell me it’s a sin to kill the ones who would try to hurt you. You can’t tell me it’s not love to hurt them back.”
You look at him, calm and adoring on the bed. He’s so sure of his choices, like an archangel set on the borders of Eden with a flaming sword in his hand... 
And the rose is starting to unfurl, the enigma finally unravelling itself. You’re the sacred Other, the opposite of him, you’re the great Mystery he’s infatuated with. You have peace and faith and hope and love: everything he lacks. 
And he’s the opposite of you. Fierce, vengeful, violent… Hopeless, suffering, without peace. Ready to dive into the world and bathe in it, be it a pool filled with love or blood.
He’s searching for the answers, too, only in different ways.
“And no one ever will.”
“No one’s trying to kill or hurt me,” you whisper, trying to stand brave under that flaming stare. But he’s stronger than you, even when recovering. He pulls you back to the bed and in his arms because that’s where you simply belong now, and caresses your cheek, as gently as you caressed his withered flower in your cell.
You know your days at the convent are coming to an end, but when the abbess gives you a warning after the fifth day of you skipping half of your chores, appointments and prayers, you go to see her. 
Without mentioning König or what you’ve been up to lately, you simply tell her you’ve decided to move on with your life. You say you’ve studied your soul for months now, coming to a conclusion that the life of a nun doesn’t suit you after all. 
These things happen, and people have left before; it’s nothing new under the sun that a nun or a monk wishes to return to the world. This is not a prison, you remind yourself, knowing that your departure will send some waves through the place but that eventually, people will go on with their lives.
You will probably be forgotten in a year: someone else will take your place, and you will continue your adventures someplace far away from here… Or that’s what you hope. 
But even if things didn’t work out with König, and you somehow ended up alone, it has become clear that you can’t stay here and continue this double life.
König’s offer doesn’t sound too bad: the Austrian Alps sound very enticing, actually. A simple life away from the buzz of the city is a golden opportunity for you; peace and faith can remain in your life without preventing you from participating in it. If only you knew whether he was kidding when he said that…
“Are you sure, sister? This seems like a rash decision.”
“Yes. I’m sure. I… I think I have found something,” you try to awkwardly explain. 
“Something… Or someone?”
“I just know that I can’t stay here. It’s not right.”
“On that, I agree.”
You go through the procedures, ritualistic, almost. The abbess asks whether you understand that this cannot be undone: you can’t just leave and then come back if you change your mind. The doors of the Church will always remain open to you, but your vows cannot be renewed, not in this convent. If this acquaintance of yours turns out to be a disappointment, you cannot simply come back here, don your robes, and start over.
She’s only doing her duty, and you try to listen respectfully, nodding as she lists the things that will be out of your grasp after you walk out those doors. Thinking that everything’s settled, you inform her you’ll leave today, to which she puckers her brows.
“My dear. Don’t you owe it to this convent to meditate on this for one more day? Don’t you owe it to yourself, to the Lord...? I’m sure the world can wait a few more hours.”
You sigh, bow your head, and bend to her will. 
She’s right; you can’t just leave as if all the years of joy and peace here meant nothing. You have people to say goodbye to, and you owe it to God to say your prayers, not your last, but last behind these walls. You haven’t even attended the evening mass these days; it’s like you stopped being a nun when a certain Austrian soldier asked if you wanted to take a nap with him.
You receive lots of well wishes, hugs, even tears when you tell others you’re leaving. Embarrassed that you almost got rid of your robes and sneaked out to another secret lover’s meeting without even saying farewell, you meet everyone with full presence until you find yourself crying too. 
You catch very little envy in your sisters, but there are some who look at you with jealous disdain when you tell them that no, you don’t even have an apartment yet, nor a job, but that you’ll take your new life as a gift and face it like an exciting adventure. 
Thinking about König all day long, you can’t wait for tomorrow so you can tell him the good news. You hope he understands that you can’t visit him every day, even if it has been your silent agreement that you knock on his door before noon. It’s a good thing that the poor man gets some rest: you can tickle and giggle and practice with him tomorrow to your heart’s content, it’s not like he’ll disappear in the next 24 hours.
He’s in König now; all that bliss resides with him and the moments when you two break bread together, or wash each other, tell each other silly secrets on the bed, fall asleep after a round of good sex.
Except that that’s exactly what you fear while you go about your day. 
Sorrow and excitement mix in your heart with bittersweet torment, but what haunts you most is that you no longer find God in the great hall where your sisters sing. You don’t feel His presence during the Mass. 
Sun sets behind the window, and you sigh while peeking out of your nunnery turned prison. Silence weighs upon you like a blanket, but you can’t get any sleep. 
There’s a sudden “clack” on the window, followed by rap, small pebbles or something clattering against the glass. You rise to sit on the bed, instantly thinking of König and his stupid, silly threats.
The longing is awful, it’s even worse when König was away for half a year because now you actually have something to miss. You wonder if he’s watching the same sweet skies as you, if he’s worried or hurt when you didn’t visit him today.
You wonder if the man has only shrugged his shoulders and left…
It can’t be…
There’s another clack, then another, until you jump from under the covers and go to the window, opening it without even remembering to be quiet. 
As soon as the windowpane glides open and you peek out, you meet König and his stare.
“What are you– You can’t be here...!”
“I was just about to sing,” he grins without even bothering to tone down his voice, letting the remaining gravel in his hand fall to the ground.
Bending his knees, he swiftly jumps up, pulling himself to the window sill like it’s easy parkour, probably opening that goshdarn wound again in the process. No wonder men die younger – you’d have to tie this specimen to a sturdy lamp post if you wanted him to stay put...
Throwing a pair of long legs over the sill, he makes himself at home, forcing you to take a good few steps back as he simply waltzes inside your room.
“You didn’t come to see me today,” he says like it’s some kind of an explanation for this silliness.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” you roll your eyes. “Something came up, and I had to stay here.” 
If you tell him that you’ve just renounced your vows, there’s no way you’ll get him out. He’d just say you must celebrate the good news by making love all night. 
“That’s alright,” he says amiably. “I’ll just visit you.”
Trying to argue with whispers doesn’t really help your cause. König only smiles down on you like a cheerful, jovial sun.
“But... It’s... You can’t be here…!” 
“I promise I’ll behave.”
“You and your promises… We both know how well you keep those. Go back before you get me into trouble, silly. We can see each other tomorrow.”
“But I want to see you today.” 
“Well, you’ve seen me,” you extend your hands to your sides, knowing you’ve already lost. “You can go back now.”
“I don’t think so.” 
He takes another step, forcing you to back away until you bump into your bed. Crossing the final breath between you, he pulls you into a kiss.
So much for contemplating your choices and dedicating your last night as a nun to God…
And it’s laughable how fast he rids you of your clothes these days. It’s stupid how fast you’re able to help him get undressed…  You all but tear the clothes off each other; actually, you can hear a seam rip when you both yank the shirt over his head, the new black t-shirt you just bought him a few days ago. 
Does he even know what he’s doing to you…?
Muscles rippling in the fading sunlight, he’s a god mortalized. Body built as a weapon to rip or ram his way through enemies, to you, he’s only ever been the source of joy and pleasure.
You could pray on the altar of his pecs, sing songs and chants to his lips, worship the bunching muscles of his thighs, kneel before the thing that rests thick between them. The sheer width of him is enough to make you drunk: desire pools, brims, until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. 
You lay yourself on the bed, and he follows, like a big panther or a prowling titan. The bed sags as he sets his knee on it, it wails when crawls on top of you. Heavy cock swinging between his thighs, it seems like a cruel joke that you chose this man to be your first. 
And you didn’t expect that you’d lose your virginity this way: in your old room at the holy convent you swore yourself to a few years ago. You didn’t expect you’d lose it to a giant soldier who starts to frantically search for a condom after you whisper to him you’re done with practising.
While theoretically a sin, you’re more sullen with the prospect that you won’t be able to feel the silken hardness of him now that he rolls the plastic on. A little too enthusiastically – as if he hadn’t seen a woman in weeks, let alone cummed all over one two times yesterday. 
Still, you find heat pooling down your stomach as he approaches you, keen and eager and as hard as a man can get when he sees something that he likes.
He doesn’t need to part your legs: you do it for him, and when he sees your pussy all puffed up, leaking a thin stream down on the bed, his brows knit together, the expression reminding you of approaching thunder in summer.
His gaze is heavy like midnight when he guides it back to you – always back to you and your eyes, even if there’s a whole feast down there, prepared just for him. The backs of your thighs meet his as he slowly crawls forward, spreading your legs further apart before the battering ram. 
“Kitten...” he rumbles. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
The springs continue to wail beneath you: it’s like the whole world is against you today, even the stupid bed making it far too likely to get caught. And if you get caught, it won’t be just by some shocked sisters screaming when they find a man inside your room… It will be by them screaming when they find him inside you.
And he doesn’t seem to even care.
“Ach so my little nun… I hope we don’t break the bed,” he smirks.
“I hope you don’t break the bed…”
“You want me to take you down there instead?” 
He nods in the direction of the floor, and you can only blink – your soldier boyfriend is offering to fuck you on the cold cement as if it’s some kind of an option.
“I’m not having my first time on a floor,” you grump.
“Heh. Thought so, princess.”
The possibility of getting caught makes him visibly excited. Hell, it makes you excited... You wonder if he’s an adrenaline junkie, leading a dangerous life and having a life-threatening job, now choosing to try his luck at fucking a nun at a cloister.
You don’t want to be a challenging conquest or a kinky story told to some fellow soldiers at a bar… You want to be a commitment; you want to mean something to him. But you can’t escape the fact that this setting is turning you on. You’re even worse than him, spreading your legs and hoping he’d touch you with that cock; just drag it down your lips and glide it in already.
His gaze is heavy, blue steel, blazing in the darkness as he looks at you so wanton on the bed, a simple crucifix on the wall as the only witness to your deeds. This must be one of the craziest things you’ve done in your life…
Replacing his hand with the head of his cock, he finally lets you have what you need. The tip of him is hot, even when covered in thin plastic, and the sight of him, large and powerful and dark, looming godlike above you, makes you think of pagan heroes and kings. To you, he’s all men in one, the sheer mass of him making your thighs tremble from want.
With a curious finger sliding down the wet, heavy seam of you, he swears when meeting you so pliant and wet. Thanks to your constant “practising”, you’re always slightly aroused, getting in the mood the instant you see him.
Contrary to your belief, having sex multiple times a day doesn’t, in fact, stifle sexual desire but adds to it… It’s like you’ve opened Pandora’s box together, only the box contained all the pleasure in the world instead.
“Are you ready, kitten…?” 
“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… We need to be quiet…”
His smile is a flash of a grin in the falling darkness. “I’ll try my best.”
The sound that leaves the back of his throat is a deprived, hoarse moan. He seems to be enjoying it more than anything while you’re trying to remember how to breathe, but when he settles fully in and stays there, you start to actually feel something… Something thick, and heady. 
Settling to your entrance, he tells you to relax, and you try your best with that; you truly do.
But nothing can prepare you for it, the fat head of him sliding in, smoothly and with a spread that leaves you gasping. The fulfilment is phenomenal – you try to remind yourself to relax your muscles as he pushes a few inches in, and then some more, and then some more. More, more, more, until you start to feel your inner walls wake up with alarm. 
Seated so deep that his balls arrive to touch your flesh, your body starts to accept him, squeeze him, hug him.
And it feels good. In a way, it’s the best feeling in the world.
He groans, slightly high-pitched and surprised; perhaps you’re tighter than he expected, or perhaps he can feel the hugging thing… 
Your cheeks are panging with heat – the whole building is silent except for the broken breaths of you two, and the lewd sounds of fucking on your chaste bed not made to take this sort of abuse. Growing only wetter and wetter, you try to keep your moans lodged inside your throat as he starts to fuck you with determination, seeing that you’re enjoying yourself. 
Pulling out the slightest bit, he chooses to head straight back, apparently not wanting to be deprived of your heat even for a second. Thrust by thrust, he pulls out more, allowing you to get used to what it feels like. The bed is absolutely horrid, creaking every time he buries himself back in. 
It’s a punishing of sorts, his cock knocking the air out of you every now and then. The slap of his balls against you is sinful – your room has seen nothing like this, nothing but some shy solo action every few months. Now you’re spread wide open for a good pounding, his hips reaching a pace that makes the rest of the world slowly dissolve. 
Realizing he might be a bit too enthusiastic with a woman who’s a first-timer, he swallows and slows down his pace, causing you to almost scream with frustration. 
“Am I being too rough…?” He asks, panting like he just ran ten miles. Plugged deep inside you, you can feel his cock throbbing and pulling near the point of cumming – perhaps another reason why he stopped.
“No… No.” 
You sound puny under him, fingers flexing over his skin, the great ribs flaring in reply under your touch.
“You want more?” 
“Mm. Needy little thing...” 
“...Yes.”
Huffing in the hollow of your neck, he breaks into a smile and licks his lips. 
You barely catch the hint of degrading tone in his voice, a mocking, something about the way you’re so wet and needy for him stroking his ego just the right way.
Knowing that he’s here for reasons other than just sex doesn’t change the fact that you enjoy getting sweaty with him, spiralling into a state of total surrender. Ten times more powerful than the most blissful experiences with your God, you want to come here for worship again and again, to have his body entangled with yours. 
Ecstatic that you just came, König no longer holds back; he doesn’t even let you gather the remaining pieces of your sanity before he starts to chase his own peak. Taking what he needs from you, the trusts turn into short, quick pumps, some foul German curse hissed between his teeth just before he cums. 
When the tide swells, it’s a bit different: not just external stimuli and shallow friction, but areas never explored now getting nudged as well. The delicious drag of his length in and out of you, the thickness making you feel overstuffed, does make the pleasure well like never before.
You’re not accustomed to this, being forced so dumb by a cock. Cheekily anticipating the swelling wave, it breaks upon you almost without warning. There’s nowhere to escape, and the climax is blinding, the euphoria leaving you without air for a moment. 
You can feel every thick pulse of his cock, and fear for the condom that looked far too tight to manage to take both him and his load. You whimper and cling to him as he ruts through his heavy bliss, entire body throbbing with heat from the joy of spilling inside you. 
When done, he sinks half his weight on you, thoroughly spent, and you feel fulfilled, some deep-seated joy taking hold of everything that once was hollow. Curiously, all shame is absent. The man on top of you is sweaty and catching his breath, but you’re only glad to swim in the messy, sweaty newness of you two. 
“You ok...?”
You want his weight on you… You want him to stay inside you until he grows soft, you need him to be as drowsy and complete as you.
Hugging him tight in the middle of your post-coital bliss, you feel König rumble into your neck.
“Better than ever,” you breathe a smile. “How about you…?”
“...In heaven,” he replies, and you have to stifle a giggle pushing up your throat. He has never sounded so spent. So tired, happy and fragile…
“I just want to be with you like this,” he continues to mutter on your skin. “Can I be with you like this…?”
“Yes.”
He slowly rises to lean on his elbows, propping himself on them one by one. Weary, pleased eyes slowly focus on you, and the back of his palm comes to caress you, knuckles gently brushing your temple, thumb swiping away an escapee hair. 
“Kitten… I’m serious. I don’t want to live without you.”
“We have a tradition in Austria where men sometimes steal the bride.”
“How convenient,” you smile.
“I know you belong to someone else, but I’m going to steal you.”
Your eyes are full of stars, you just know they are. If this is another one of his jokes, you can’t bring yourself to care, not as long as he looks at you like that, eyes so set and determined.
“I’m sure He won’t mind,” you mirror his gesture, raising a hand to caress his cheek.
“I’ll fight Him if he does.” 
“...You can’t fight God,” you laugh.
“Why not?”
You don’t even know what to say to that. You open your mouth, then close it, shaking your head on the pillow. In a way, you can imagine him taking up arms against God if it came to that. If there was someone foolish enough – or brave enough – to rise against God, that someone would be him.
“König… I renounced my vows today.”
“...You did?”
The happiness, the pure joy in his eyes, is heartbreaking. At that moment, you know that all his silly jokes, follies, and babbles about taking you to the mountains and whisking you away have been real. They have been true, honest wishes... There is no lie in him, no jest, no fakeness. Just pure, simple joy from hearing that you finally chose him, too.
“I tried to leave in the morning but the abbess made me stay for one more day.”
“Ah... So you’re being held a prisoner here?”
“Kind of.”
The familiar twinkle in his eyes tells you that he already has another plan coming right up. That grin means mischief; but with you, only the sweetest kind.
“Well. You’re in luck, then, because I’m here to save you.”
“You just said you’re going to steal me,” you laugh.
“Call it what you want, kitten,” he winks. “But I’m not leaving without you.”
The sun has set, but the evening is bright, the sky filled with stars visible even through city lights. It’s dark in the courtyard as you sneak out of the window with König, trying not to giggle as you escape. You call it a prison break; he calls it Einsatz Rapunzel. Whatever it is, it feels like freedom.
The old man doesn’t even care to look surprised when he sees you clothed in jeans and a simple shirt this time, smiling as you rush upstairs, hand in hand with König.
He whispers promises on your skin, saying that you won’t stay here for long; his contacts will get you to the heart of Europe, tomorrow if you want. You can’t wait to sleep with him tonight: simply sleep with him, finally, curl up together in safety, do the most basic thing all lovers do. You can’t wait to wake up to a fresh dawn together, lovely, curious, and new. 
Night covers you with beauty and grace, his pulse against your palm both a promise and a blessing. You take new vows: promising to yourself to live each day fully and bravely, and never again shut your heart.
The only thing left of you on your old bed is your black and white robe, and on it, a crucifix and a rose, and a note that says:
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love… But the greatest of these is love.
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truetogaia · 5 months
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ᴄᴏᴅ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
-click here to be redirected to my masterpost!!
NSFW
𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧
✿ It's cuffin szn (18+)
Synopsis: His hands run down to your waist again, settling on the plush rounding of your ass. Groping and grabbing at your soft love handles, head leaned back while he whispers about how good you feel, how your sweet pussy envelops him so nicely.
✿ Poll for upcoming smut drabbles! (18+)
✿ pamper my princess (implied steam at the end)
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✿ daddy issues
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✿ my responsibility (18+)
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𝗞Ö𝗡𝗜𝗚
✿ room for two (18+)
Synopsis: You had the costs of education to pay, food, transportation and rent for a place to live. It quickly got too much for you and you had to run to daddy for help. Luckily, your college was located in the same town where your dads best friend had an apartment.
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victoria-grimesss · 9 months
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tear you apart - part II
masterlist
-> Pairing: König x fem!reader
-> Words: 3.5k
-> Warning: MDNI! nfsw, fem!reader, dominant!könig, size difference, over the desk, blindfold, unprotected sex, rough sex but there’s aftercare, google translate German.  
~> A/N: first time writing smut please go easy on me I beg of thee. 
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It’s been a couple days since the training session with König. You've built up a nice routine around the new base and made some friendly conversations with some other new recruits both bonding over the complexities of your new home away from home. 
Would it be weird to say you miss the presence of the colonel? 
Is it strange that you’ve already become so attached to having him near those few times. Having his eyes gaze into you as though you’re all that exists? 
No right? 
 Right. 
 He haunts your dreams, appears to you when you’re most restless to smooth your hair under his touch and whisper sweet things to you, how he wants to be your eternal love, to live a life filled with passion and fire. Your veins run with lava as his hand in your hair traces down to your neck, so small in my grasp, he tells you, how easy it would be to wrap my hand around and squeeze, he says it so sweetly to you. You hum listlessly, lost in his gaze and willing for his touch. You are mine and mine only you understand? You always wake before he even takes off a glove, you're drenched in sweat and the blankets stick to you. But these dreams are common since you’ve met him. You wonder if he dreams the same; if he’s coming to you in these dreams and expressing his deepest desires. 
Silly girl you think, he wouldn’t. 
 Sometimes you think you see him, the corner of your eyes play tricks on you. He’s too big to move that fast, but you feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your head when you’re in the kitchen making your morning drink at times. It feels the same as it did when he laid eyes on you in the meeting room, electric.
 “L/N!” You turn, it’s your captain.
“Sir.”
“Look honey I’m runnin late and these papers need to go to the big guy you mind handing them over? Thanks a lot.” He basically shoved them into your arms and you have to gather them up quickly as to not let them end up as a heap on the cold floor. This whole interaction lasts the better of 30 second.
Your eyes roll at the pet name and how this work could have been shoved on anyone else but no, gotta be the new girl. 
A new girl who most definitely totally doesn’t have a crush *ehem* ~ creepy infatuation with the boss. ~ 
 You vaguely remember the way to his office; the captain shot some directions at you as he walked away from handing off his task to you. 
To the left then the right then the door second to last one on the right. You repeat these as you readjust your grip on the papers.
 As you approach you grow more and more nervous, it’s just your super-hot boss who you’re giving papers to nothing more nothing less. But your hand stays still at your side, your other full of papers.
Just knock.
Your hand is in front of the door, and you knock loudly making your presence known.
 “Enter.” He sounds just as he did last time. Domineering.
You open the door slowly, the light in the hall behind you flickers and your heart beats in time with the moth's wings that fly directly towards that light. You feel like that moth drawn to the light. 
He sits at his desk, papers in his hand, he’s shed his utility helmet and usual mask for a plain black baklava which is fitting all the same for him. The whole room smells like him, it envelopes you and swallows you whole as you close the door. 
His eyes stay on the papers but his concentration isn’t on them anymore, it’s on you.
You’ve come to him, as he thought you would. His mind has been on nothing but you, your file is always on his desk, he’s memorized every word on it.
His favorite colors are now those of your eyes, hair, lips and skin. You’ve become his very own Medusa and he can’t help but become stone when he sees you. If only you knew the grasp you had on him. If only you would grasp him and hold him tight.
 “You have something for me yes?” The lamp behind him casts him as a shadow and illuminates his figure but his eyes are bright.
You walk closer, the room is quiet besides some soft music on the record player on the far side of the room next to another door. 
“The captain requested I bring you these papers, important intel I suppose.”
“Shame. And here I was thinking you’ve just come to visit me.” There’s that teasing tone again. 
Your cheeks heat up despite your best effort to maintain a cool façade. You’re upset you don’t have a mask to hide your expression.
 You hand him the papers, neatly organized now. He reaches with one hand and takes them from you, his gloved hand brushes yours and you lock eyes, goosebumps race up your arm from the point of contact.
You grin and look down.
“I would think you’d have more interesting visitors than me colonel.”
He grows stiff at your mention of rank, calling him by his title. 
His eyes scan the papers noting the important parts.
“Schatz, you are the most important visitor I’ve had the honor of having.” His gaze is heavy on you.
You are still at his words, is he insinuating what you think he is? 
He’s holding bait right in front of your face. 
“I highly doubt that sir, a guy like you must have many visitors….I’m sure you have many beautiful suitors.”
You bite.
He chuckles, it’s low and deep and he groans at the end. 
“I have my eyes on one Ja. She has become the object of my attraction.”
Your heart skips a beat wondering if he means another woman besides you. You bite your lip wearing at the skin. You open your mouth to start and then close it.
He watches your mouth as you do so and wishes to feel it upon him, as you take him wholly.
“Speak, do not hold your tongue.” 
“I-I um I suppose I’m just curious as to what woman could gain your attraction. To be honest sir I thought you were married.”
His attention is most definitely no longer on the papers, or anything job related. His mind wholly encompassed by you and your words. 
He hums lowly and you imagine that it vibrates his chest.
“Come to this side of my desk Schatz.”
You obey, walking to the other side of his desk and standing next to him, facing the door you entered in.
“My desk, do you see any family portraits?”
“No sir.”
He takes off his gloves and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.
“Do you see a wedding band?”
“No sir.”
After this he stands, his full height towering above you combined with the soft music, dim lighting, and the way he looks down at you makes your knees weak and your lower stomach burn. He walks over to the door you entered and stands for a moment. You wonder if you’ve asked too much, dug yourself a hole and he’s about to ask you to leave.
“I’m sorry if I stepped over the line I didn’t mean it, I can leave if you want.” He locks the door. Your heart locks up all the same at the sound.
“No, Schatz I’d rather you stay, and I think you'd rather stay too. Am I right?” He turns his head to look at you and the way he’s standing you can see all the muscles in his back defined from the lighting and you yearn to rake your nails over them and leave a well-deserved mark. 
“I would.” Your words are breathy, and you hardly know if you spoke at all but his response confirms you did.
He walks back over to you and your feet are stuck in cement. He stops when he's behind you. You can hear his breathing behind you so you know he’s actually there, he's real and this is real.
“You know I watch you right? Does it frighten you?”
“No colonel.”
“None of that here, not anymore. Just König ok Süßes Mädchen
Your knees actually nearly do give out this time, God he’s too much. Your breathing is quick now and you feel feverish he’s not even touching you yet but standing there and you don’t know what will kill you first your rapid heart rate or the anticipation.
“You want me, Ja?
“God yes.” You nearly whine and he lets out a deep laugh. He readjusts his stance.
“Do you usually get this worked up before you’re even touched?” His voice is lighter now, he’s teasing.
“Only for you.” You say almost immediately.
“Say that again.” His voice is dark again and it makes your stomach twirl.
“Only for you König.” You’ve stepped headfirst into the lion’s den and you know there's no going back from this, you thought it was just a silly crush but this is so much more, for the both of you.
He inhales deeply and lets it out, even with his mask you can feel it lightly on the back of your head. 
His head is spinning with thoughts of what he wants to do to you, you were making him crazy. 
“Ich schwöre bei Gott, Liebling, du wirst mein Tod sein.” [I swear to God darling, you will be my death.] You're not sure what he said but you hear his groan at the end so it must be erotic. 
“Konig, please.”
“Shhh quiet Schätzchen.” 
There's a beat of silence and you think your heart stops then you feel his hand on your back. It travels up until he gets to your hair, he grabs a handful of it but doesn't pull or tug, just holds. You’re growing wetter by the minute and you ache deeply. You rub your thighs together and that’s when he pulls. 
He tugs you back into him and your head is pointed up now so he's looking directly down at you. You whimper and his eyes are nearly pitch black as he stares at you, he drinks you in as if you’re the last bit of water on earth.
“Scheisse you know if we do this there is not going back, I will not let you lay with another and I will never lay with anyone besides you.” His words echo in your head and you weigh your options,
Option A: sleep with König, your superior and maybe face some very serious consequences.
or…
Options B: go back to your room and absolutely resort you what’s in your bedside drawer to relieve yourself…..
Survey says, option A all the way.
“I wouldn't want it any other way sir.” You make sure to say it extra breathily as to draw him into the spiral he's sent you into.
His grip tightens ever so before he releases and you stumble a bit but a hand on your waist catches you and the coals within you are stoked even more to where they rage into an inferno.
“I would like to share more of myself with you eventually but for now... This will have to do.”
He says no more before fabric is enclosed around your eyes and your vision darkens. It must be his regular mask because it smells so strongly of him it makes you dizzy, his scent all encompassing.
“König.”
“My name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips, I beg to hear more of it.”
His hands, both of them, are on your middle now he holds you steady and moves them upwards and cups your breasts above your uniform you let out a soft breath.
He closes his eyes and inhales deep against your crown.
“I knew you would smell wonderful Mein Schatz. You feel like heaven in my hands you know that?”
His hands move to the buttons of your uniform and he wastes no time in discarding it to the ground along with your undershirt. 
“Turn around.” 
You turn around and he once again grabs tight on your hair pulling your head back and exposing your neck.
He pulls up his baklava knowing he won’t be seen.
He bites.
Hard.
You let out a shameless moan and quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but he grabs your wrist and holds it behind you back your other hand is grabbing onto his hair.
“You’ll express your pleasure. I want everyone to hear so they know I’m occupied.”
He’s sucking dark bruises into your neck and leaving teeth marks in his wake. He lavishes in the way your skin tastes. He knows you sweat at some point today and your perfume is on his tongue.
“König please, I need more.”
“Gladly.” You feel him smile on your skin.
Next thing you know you’re spun around again and you’re pushed down over the desk his hand heavy on your neck.
“Stay.” He commands.
His hand is removed and he works at your pants pulling them down and to your ankles, he slides his hands all around the newly exposed skin and you hear his drop to his knees.
“Mein Gott, you are something to behold, you are beautiful you know that?”
You blush the heat growing hotter between your thighs.
There’s no time to respond before he’s diving into your heat tongue hot and wet upon you as he sucks and licks like his life depends on it.
“You taste divine, I could die here and die a happy man Liebling, scheiße” 
You moan and your cheek touches the cold wood of the desk as he continues his ravaging.
“König please, I need-need more.”
He hears your pleas and it spurs him on, he’s desperately hard in his pants and palms at it a few times before collecting your wetness and entering one then two fingers. 
“Is this enough for you? Or do you need more? So bedürftig.” He teases as he pumps them in the out in a come-hither motion getting quicker and quicker. 
Your breathing picks up. It’s in short pants now as you get close and closer to the edge. He can feel you squeezing his fingers tighter and he latches his mouth back on as his fingers works faster.
“Come on Schatz give me a show.” He smiles and teases and he just can’t get enough even as you try to thrash and tense on his fingers reaching your high you chant his name and he’s heard nothing sweeter.
“You make such beautiful noises Meine Liebe .” He bites at the inside of your thighs as he stands.
You hear a belt buckle and a zipper undone, mouthwatering in anticipation as you’re still coming down from your previous high.
He takes himself out and strokes it slowly a few times placing a hard harshly on your hip as he lines himself up and teases the tip at your entrance.
He’s massive compared to you and he’s burning up looking and predicting the way you’ll feel around him.
“Schatz, one last chance to change your mind.” He grits through his teeth.
“Please König, I need you badly.” 
He takes not a second longer after you answer to sink fully into you and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s huge, incredible deliciously huge and the stretch of him knocks the breath from your lungs and he bends over you, his whole body laying just above you so his mouth is right next to your ear.
“You feel even more incredible than I could ever dream, you wrap around me so sweetly.”
He pulls back and braces both of his hands on your hips with a bruising grip and starts moving, he’s deliberate and calculated with his movements thrusting deep and harsh.
You moan loudly with the blindfold all your other senses are heightened. You grasp and scratch behind you trying to slow his movements you mind hazy with only thought of how good he’s making you feel. 
“P-please, god König.” You can hardly make out your own thoughts, he groans and continues his onslaught of torture on you.
You try to slow him again but this time he takes a hold of your wrists and slams them down onto the desk. You continue to moan with abandonment.
“You’ll take what given to you, understand?” He leans down and kisses your cheek, panting you can feel the sweat on his face combining with yours.
Leaning back, he watches the way he enters you and the noises are unholy, seeing you bent over his desk so willing and drunk off of him nearly makes him cum right then and there.
Suddenly a knock at the door.
He doesn’t stop and you clamp both hands over your mouth now. He growls deep in his chest.
“Busy.” He grits out.
They knock again but he doesn’t stop.
“Are you fucking kidding me? c’mon be a good girl and let them know I’m busy.” His accent is heavy and laced with need.
You can hardly think straight and his words sound underwater. You only become semi-conscious again when he picks you by your shoulder, up holding you up to his chest by your neck as he continues his onslaught.
“Take your hands off your mouth unless you want me to tie those up too, I told you to tell them I’m busy.” He growls right by your ear and he thrust particularly hard and deep you choke on your sobs and a moan rips from your throat. It’s so erotic you hardly recognize yourself, the last knock was cut short, and you hear quick shuffling down the hallway. 
“Braves Mädchen, so good for me. Fuck, need you to cum with me I won’t last much longer.”
“F-fuuck don’t stop.”
The coil within you is growing and winding and you feel you’re heading headfirst into a spiral panting and calling his name with no care for the outside world you reach up and claw at what you can reach of his expansive shoulders certainly leaving marks and he groans and grinds to show his appreciation.
“Cmon, give it to me, give it to me.” He says, each thrust his hand on your hips growing even tighter and his thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his high. He grips your jaw now slipping a finger into your mouth and you taste yourself on them and the coil snaps.
Your ears are ringing, white blinds your vision, and you’re overcome with oxytocin unlike no other.
König fills you deeply grinding to the hilt so none of him is left exposed.
You feel boneless and limp in his arms but completely and utterly satisfied.
The blindfold is removed and he’s tapping your cheek, the finger that was in your mouth leaving spit in its wake but you have no care.
“Y/N, Y/N, come in back to me Schatz.” You open your eyes and hum.
“So good.” You hiccup and you see he has his baklava fully on but his eyes are crescent shape, his eyes look lovely when he’s smiling.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He’s pulling out and you wince but he’s quickly pulling his desk chair out for you to sit and gain you sanity back.
“That’s putting it lightly...” you can’t seem to wipe the dumb smile plastered on your face.
He’s pulling up his pants and re-buckling his belt, you get butterflies watching him do it.
He then walks to what looks like a bathroom connected to the office, coming back with a washcloth and cleans you gently kissing the top of your head.
“Cmon let’s get you dressed then yeah. As much as I love seeing you in my chair like that, we’ll play that scenario out another day.” He picks up your panties and stuffs them into his pocket and helps you put on your pants.
“I need those König.” 
“I’ll buy you some more, these are for my personal collection.” You huff, legs feeling like jelly, and he rubs your back as you’re buttoning your jacket.
“Very well, I won’t fight a losing battle for those, at least they’re not my favorite pair-
“I’d like those as well.”
“Stop it!” You both laugh and he sounds so wonderful worry free. 
He gives you some water and sits back at his desk. You stand in the same spot you were in before everything happened.
“That was a great pleasure and I hope it brought you the same.” God he’s so formal after just rearranging your guts, you laugh like a schoolgirl.
“I did, I um, would love to do this again, or just spend more time with you.”
His heart lights up and he knows he’s got you for good,
“Schatz, my door is always open to you, granted both my office and bedroom door.” He winks at you and you blush.
You walk to the door and look back at him before you leave.
“Don’t forget about those papers I brought you.” You fake authority.
“Yes ma’am.” He laughs and watches you until the door is closed.
He takes your panties out of his pocket already missing your presence next to him, next time can’t come soon enough.
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