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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

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concert, part 2

part 1 | part 2 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw smut)

The concert is a fucking blast. König and I are headbanging in unison to the songs blaring from the speakers and I love seeing the wild expression on his face. It’s exactly how I imagined it. Lorna Shore is also an amazing live experience, my god. I think I’m gonna have a bunch more lines on my face because every breakdown is bringing out my stank face.

Most of the concert goes well, without any incidents. Most of it.

If it wasn’t for the guy who almost knocked me off my feet running past us to the moshpit. König catches me when I topple over, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me up again. The look on his face as he stares down the guy that just shoots a little “sorry” in my direction is downright abysmal that for a moment even I get a bit scared.

And I grab his arm putting my whole body weight on it when I see that he wants to go after the guy. “König, please, I’m fine.”, I shout at him, pulling on his arm to get his attention on me.

He stops, turns around and leans down, coming face to face with me. His eyes search it for any indication that would go against my claim, his hand cupping my cheek, the thumb softly caressing just once. And I just want him to do it again.

“I swear, I’m fine, it happens. I’m not made of glass.”, I explain to him and do a little dancydancy to demonstrate that my limbs are still working.

That pulls a little chuckle from him and he finally relaxes. Nodding, pulling back, and then he straightens back up, re-taking his position right behind me like my own personal bodyguard. And I lean into him again, shamelessly so, somebody might even call it ‘snuggling into him’.

I’m feeling touchy and I maybe would have had a guilty conscience if he didn’t do the same. His hand skimming over my naked arm, him pulling me against him when somebody pushes past us again. His big burly arms framing me. And it feels good. Oh, so good.

Luckily the heavy music blasting from the speakers is distracting me from the attractive man at my side, so I can keep some of my sanity while I try and tell myself that this totally is just two strangers going to a concert and not at all a date. Mh-mh, not a date.

I push those thoughts away and will myself to stay in the moment and let the music carry me away. I’m already getting tired and sweaty from all the jumping, shouting and moshing I’ve been doing, but also the concert is slowly but surely coming to an end.

I jump up a bit, going on my tiptoes, but I can’t see the band members on stage through the sea of bodies in front of me. König leans down, one of his hands on my shoulder.

“Everything okay?”, he asks me, loud against the noise, his breath skitting over the shell of my ear, and I ignore the tickling feeling that this elicits.

I turn to him speaking into his ear as well. “I don’t see anything.”, I complain to him. “But this is my favourite song.”

“You wanna sit on my shoulders? I bet you’d have a better view from up there.”, he suggests, patting said shoulders. They do look like a very comfy seat. Or a comfy leg rest. *cough cough* Get yourself together and the mind out of the gutter, I tell myself.

“Uh, sure.”, I say, totally not sure how this will work. He pulls his hair to the side and just leans down a bit, hoists me up at my waist and places me on his right shoulder. He holds up his hands and I grab them as I reposition myself, slinging my leg over the other shoulder, so that my thighs are now resting on both of them.

I didn’t factor in that I’m only wearing a skirt. The fabric is bunched up, which means that there are only the two thin layers of my panties and my tights between his neck and my pussy. Great. Just peachy.

His hands grab my thighs, his fingers digging into me, holding me steady and save. I’m so high up, so I can see everything, but right now my attention and more importantly the attention of my body is on the man whose head is between my thighs – so to speak.

“All good?”, he shouts up at me and I shout back a “yes”. Holding onto his head, making sure not to pull on his hair. But I can’t ignore the way it feels silkily smooth underneath my fingertips. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it and focus on the concert going on in front of me, joining in the refrain of ‘Dancing like Flames’.

And so the 'Pain Remains' Trilogy plays out with me on his shoulders experiencing the end of the concert with maybe the best seat in the house.

“Did you have fun?”, he asks as we leave the venue.

I’m doing double time on my steps to keep up with his long strides and the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through my veins turns my almost running into skipping along. “Yes, I did.”, I say smiling up at him.

A cold gust of wind blows through the street and a shiver runs down my spine which makes me slow down and cross my arms in front of my body.

“Wait, here, have my jacket.”, he says, slowing down as well, already putting the worn leather onto my shoulders.

I pull the piece of clothing tighter around me, getting enveloped in his scent while the smooth fabric of the inner lining skims against my skin. “Thanks.” We’re making our way to the car and he opens the door for me again, just like he did before.

“So, do you feel like you kept up with me today?”, I ask him then, a sly smile forming on my lips. He shoots me a look, an intense one, before he closes the car door. The look alone should have totally shut me up. But it doesn’t.

“So, how does it feel to still be out past your bedtime, old man?”, I continue as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t even look at me while he puts the seatbelt on and pushes the key into the ignition. “I’m glad you were more well behaved when we were at the concert.”, he says, a light gravel in his voice. A sound that does stuff to me. A sound that makes me brave and stupid.

"Do you know what a brat is?", I ask him and amusement paints my voice. I’m enjoying this way too much right now. Teasing him in person is so much better than over text.

He fully sideeyes me, pulling up one of his brows, then he turns his head to look at me. His gaze is heated, but I can see the restraint in it as well. He slowly tilts his head to the side and at the same pace the grin on my face falters, melting away. The hairs in my neck are starting to stand up and I have to suppress a shiver of excitement. From him just looking at me like I'm prey, someone to chase down, someone to devour.

"I'm familiar with the concept.", he says nonchalantly, leaning a bit towards me, when one of the corners of his mouth tips up. "Do you know what a brat tamer is?", he asks, smirking at me. And my brain short-circuits. My jaw drops, my chin is on the floor, figuratively speaking.

He laughs, short and darkly, as I'm still recovering from the sentence he just dropped. He straightens back up and fiddles with the ignition until the car starts.

"Sit up straight and put your seatbelt on for me, Liebes.", he says, his voice getting all authoritative. The tone makes my spine stiffen up and I do as he told me. He laughs again, seeing how I'm following his orders, when he shifts the car into gear. Without even looking at me, he drawls: "Good girl.", and I fold like a goddamn lawn chair. The little sigh dropping from my lips telling him (and me) exactly how this is making me feel.

He doesn't say anything, so I glance at him while he pulls onto the street. The smirk on his face is cocky and self-indulgent, his hair is still swept to one side and my god, the jawline with the scruff 5 o'clock shadow is doing stuff to me. The mental image forming in my head is so not safe for work.

Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy. His strong hands have a tight grip on me, pushing me down into the soft sheets while he fucks me deep and slow, his hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly. Praise is falling from his lips, telling me that I'm his good girl, that I'm doing so well for him, that I feel so fucking good while his hand spanks my booty, alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.

His chuckle, the real König chuckling at me while driving, is pulling me from my dirty daydream and I can't help the blush forming on my cheeks. "Now where did you just drift off to?", he asks me.

"Nowhere.", I say, trying to deflect.

"Uh-huh.", he pulls up his brows, totally not believing me.

“Well, what did you expect when you told me-“ I lower my voice and mumble: “that you’re a brat tamer…” That pulls a laugh from him, a sound I’m already addicted to.

“You mean like when you told me that you’re a little brat?”, he throws back at me. “Two can play that game, Fräulein.”

I tilt my head to the side, but I can’t argue with that. “Touché.” I feel like we just dipped our toes into some unchartered territory that made everything a little bit more sexual than it already was, a little clearer where this is headed – probably sooner than later. Because even if we keep making jokes and bringing up our age difference (which I still think isn’t that bad), I can feel the pull of attraction towards him. And with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m sure he feels the same way.

We were flirty in our texts and we were touchy all evening. I remember the way my thighs hugged his neck when I sat on his shoulders. How his fingers dug into the pillowy flesh, holding me tight.

The way his arms closed around me, shielding me off from the people around us. Me shamelessly leaning into him, relishing the way his body feels against mine. How I felt safe at the concert with him as my personal bodyguard.

And every single thing heightened the feeling of need, of want, of desire that was already there when I saw him sitting at that table at the pub.

I try to hold off from squirming in my seat, having a hard time keeping my cool, especially when my eyes wander to him all the time while driving. How his knees almost graze the steering wheel, the way his knuckles strain when he grips it. His hair falling over the side of his face. The tattoos, the shirt he got hugging his biceps just the right way, just… every single detail.

I spend the ride home trying to keep my thoughts holy, but I can’t. His image and my imagination don’t seem to mix well.

He pulls up to my apartment complex, parking the car and turning the engine off, but he keeps the sound system running. He turns to me and the sentence I wanted to say gets stuck in my throat. I wanted to thank him for taking me to the concert, making me feel safe. Very obviously going out of his own comfort zone to accommodate me. Even when we still didn’t know each other for that long.

But the way he’s looking at me shuts me up before I can start talking. His gaze is intense, just like before and the effect is all the same. And I can’t tear my eyes from him, drinking him in.

“Don’t look at me like that.”, he says, not breaking eyecontact.

I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”

A little growl drops from his lips and the sound sends a wave of need between my legs. Like I even needed more of that. He leans a bit forward, inching closer and closer. “Like you want me to do something about this tension between us.”, he whispers, low and darkly.

“Maybe I do want that.”, I answer and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

His hands grab my face, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he presses his lips onto mine. His hold on me is soft, but the kiss is fiery. And for the first time I can really feel that he wants me as desperately as I want him.

I grab him, his t-shirt, pulling him against me. I can feel his broad chest under my fingertips, the warmth of his body, the hard muscles that I also was snuggled up against before. His leatherjacket falls from my shoulders and pools around my hips.

“Fuck.”, he grunts against my lips, letting one hand drop down to push the car seat back. He pulls me with him, onto his lap, my thighs spreading over it. His hand brushes down my back as his mouth finds mine once more to kiss me, feverish, demanding, needy. And I answer it with the same fervor, brushing my tongue against his, moaning as I taste him for the first time. The flavour of beer that we both drank cutting through his own scent.

He grabs my ass cheek, squeezing it through the fabric of my skirt and the touch is making me squirm in his lap, grinding onto him. I feel his hard length against me, straining against his jeans, my tights and panties not really being a barrier as I roll my hips, relishing the feeling of the fabric on my wetness. The feeling of his dick right underneath me.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”, I breathe against his lips. I almost add that I don’t want to give my neighbors a show, but that seems to be a little on the nose.

He pulls my head back a bit, his eyes searching mine and I can see the unbridled lust in them. Other than that, it seems like he’s exercising restraint, stopping the movement of my hips on his lap. “If we do that, we’re gonna fuck.”, he states matter-of-factly.

His words colour my cheeks red. “I guess so.” is all I manage to say because the imagination alone is already making me hotter than I was before.

His gaze flits between my right and left eye, back and forth, like the answers are already pouring out of them. “Are you sure you want this?”, he asks softly.

I break eyecontact and nod because this whole interaction is making me shy all of a sudden. The brattiness is gone.

His hand that was still tangled in my hair strokes down the side of my face until his fingers grab my chin and turn it up, to make me look at him again. “Use your words, Liebes. Do you want me to fuck you?”, he rewords his question.

My breath halts in my throat and for a moment my mind goes completely blank. I just stare at him, swallowing down the nervousness I feel. “Yes.”, I answer him, my voice steadier than I would have expected.

He pulls up one of his eyebrows, looking at me like he’s expecting something more, the serious expression on his face turning heated and cocky.

“Please.”, I whisper which earns me a satisfied growl as he captures my lips again. The kiss is sloppier than the ones before, he bites my lower lip which sends a zap of pleasure right to my core and makes me moan against his lips some more.

He pulls back a little bit, his hot mouth pressing small pecks to my cheek and down to my neck, all while scooping me up and opening up the car door. He presses me flush against him as he gets out the car with me in his grasp, making sure I don’t bump my head on the car frame.

My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his shoulder, holding onto him, my thighs resting against his hips, while he locks the car and just uses one arm to steady me, like I weigh nothing. Well, to him I probably don’t.

Determination in his step, he approaches the building and I dig into my little bag with one hand to get the keys to my flat.

part 4

~ or More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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