#koenig x you

[puff0o0]

thinking about König who has to try his hardest not to kiss you, punch a guy for flirting with you, or show you off because to the public's eye; you two don't even know eachother

Making the recruit who decided it was smart to lay their hands on you run an extra 10 laps around base and do 100 extra push-ups was therapeutic, but nothing would have made him happier then putting his hands on your hips and glaring down at the guy

He wanted nothing more than to show others what a partner he had

But for now, he met you in the infirmary late at night

He waited all days, sadly weeks at most to see you. It even got to the point where he would go to the infirmary to patch up a cut he received on the mission (it was nothing but a small cut) just so he could see you and talk to you

your voice was stress relief

Some nights you two talked about your days and cuddled eachother, enjoying eavhother's company as you don't know how long you'll go without it again

or it will be like today where you are stuck against one of the counters with König mercilessly tickling you, enjoying your laughs and the smiles as you squirm against him

Him chuckling and laughing along, but also trying to stay quiet so he doesn't wake up a soldier and get you caught

but little did he know that Horangi had peeked in, taking the scene of the couple in with a smile

König was not living this down

[wishesforyou]

cw; usual cod violence ੈ✩‧₊˚

Being a civilian and having a husband who is out on deployment can be one of the most anxious things military spouses can face

Not knowing if your loved one is okay, if they're safe, if they're hurt.

But one thing you never expected was to be a hostage for a terrorist organization that König's team was working on infiltrating

You were there for weeks, beaten and bruised and sometimes you felt like you were going to die.

You were in shock through most of this, not able to comprehend that this wasn't a dream and this was actually happening to you.

You never understood why it was you who got chosen as a hostage

All you were doing was taking a walk in your neighborhood and you ended up with 20 other beaten and broken people, all controlled by the weapons that were aimed and cooked at them every time they did something wrong

You were scared

You were lonely

You just wanted your husband.

And you got him.

After a full month of being there, you began to lose hope.

You were starved of food and happiness, moving from location to location as you were used as a way of getting intel from private military companies.

Everytime they promised that they would free you if you gave them intel, was always a lie.

Not that you told them anything about König

You would have rather died then let anything happen to him.

You fully believed that you would die there, not being able to be held in your lovers arms or say goodbye to your family.

You wondered if you were labeled as missing or if König had come home ffom deployment to see you not there.

You wondered if he would panick or keep calm, waiting patiently at the chance of you coming home late before losing hope and moving on

You wondered if he would forget about you.

You knew that it wasn't likely knowing him, but the thought never left your mind.

But that was until you met the eyes of König who was getting ready to sneak up on one of your captors, his knife prepped in the air as he began walking before stopping, just out of sight but in view of you.

His eyes widened as he seemed to stare a couple extra seconds longer than he should have.

Your eyes looked so dull, your face was bruised and cut up, your cheeks were tear stained.

Your clothes were cut up and dirty, he couldn't even recognize you at first glance.

But once he recognized that it was actually you?

The partner he said he would protect with his life in his marriage vows, the partner he said he wouldn't let anything happen to?

Bruised and beaten just like that?

Adrenaline pumped through him as well as a rage.

He didn't even bother sneaking around, he let his thoughts consume him as his only thought was to keep you safe.

Blood was splattered everywhere, knives lodged and bullet casings in random areas.

The hostages screamed as he brutally murdered every single one of them he could get his hands on, some of them were killed in more brutal ways than others while some died slowly

He hated that you had to see this side of him, a rage that had been kept in and piled on for years that was now only added on by your fear and pain

But your safety mattered most.

[itsagrimm]

Wegbier

Translation: a beer for the road. It’s the drink (often a beer but other drinks like Clubmate or Almdudler for those that don’t drink alcohol are also common) one takes with them when wandering from one space to another while out with friends. And I literally mean wandering. It’s not a drinking while driving thing but a drinking while walking or using the public transport thing.

CN mentions of alcohol and drinking, theft, reader gets lifted up (hold on tight, spidermonkey!), drunk König

Summary: You are walking home with your boyfriend after a night out and cause havoc.

For legal reasons this is a joke.

König X gn reader

1,2 k words

Song that fits this: The Cure – The Lovecats

It was night. Or morning. Somewhere in between when it was hard to tell. You had missed the train to get back into town and instead of waiting for the replacing night bus, you had allowed König to talk you into walking.

“Come on!”, he called back over his shoulder. His long strides made him leave you behind ever 5 minutes and he had to turn around and wait for you to catch up.

“I don’t want to walk anymore!”, you lamented, tired from spending the last hours out with friends and enjoying the summer night at the lake.

“Leave me here, just let me sleep in the woods.”, you gasped dramatically, “That fallen tree with the moss over there looks so cosy.”

He starred into the woods, “That tree looks rotten.”

You suppressed a yawn and took a sip from your Wegbier before dragging yourself on. “Alright, nevermind. Off wandering home, we go. Through the dark hours of the night.”

König chuckled, “Since when are you so dramatic?”

“Since when are you so keen on walking everywhere?”

Another chuckle. “It’s not even 2 kilometres. You are just too used to cars. Less whining, more walking.”

“Easy for you to say, König. You take a step and you already have made about half of that distance.”

“That’s an…”, he paused and took a sip from his Wegbier before continuing while searching for the word, “…exaggeration. That’s the English word. Exaggeration. You exaggerate. For the dramatic effect.”

It was your turn to chuckle.

The evening and the alcohol had turned you into an overdramatic tipsy mess.

But it had turned König into the unfiltered version of himself, laying every thought bare with delightful simplicity.

Your visit in König’s hometown had been fun. It showed you a playful side in him when he joked around with his family, showed you places he loved, or taught you new german words until your head spun from the confusing grammar and unfamiliar pronunciations.

A more surprising thing to you, however, was the amount of walking.

To the store.

To friends.

The odd habit of having to leave the house at least once a day for a little walk like an animal stalking their territory.

And now you walked home with your boyfriend.

At least he walked. You needed a break.

“Come on! We nearly made it”, he called once again before stopping in his tracks and started laughing.

It was a gremlin laugh. One of those laughs followed up by either something very funny or very concerning.

You stared, slightly confused, and finished your beer before putting it next to a trash can for easier access to whoever collected the trash. Another habit König had taught you.

“What is it?”, you called and caught up with your boyfriend, following his stare onto the other side of the street.

“I need this.”, he growled.

“What?”

He nodded into the direction of one of the signs at the side of the road.

You squinted your eyes to see better despite the twilight and the distance to the sign.

K-Ö-N-I-G-S-S-T-R-A-S-S-E.

Your slow, tired and intoxicated brain needed a moment before finally gluing together the letters and translating the word.

Königsstrasse.

Kingstreet.

The street sign displayed your boyfriends callsign.

He laughed again and finished his beer.

“You in?”

You turned to him. “You mean, stealing it?”

He shrugged.

“Yeah. It’s fairly dirty. It will be replaced soon anyway.”

“Awww,”, you teased, “Are you, an active mercenary, trying to justify your crimes? No need, I’m in.”

He nodded as if only half listening and already planning the heist while finishing his own beer and leaving it next to yours at the trash can.

You looked around. A bit off from you there were a couple of houses, dark and silent as its inhabitants likely were deep asleep at this time. The street was empty. And above you a sole nightingale had started to sing.

Determined to get that sign, you crossed the street.

It was up high. Very high.

You jumped, trying to touch it only to miss it by a couple of centimetres.

“There is an easier way.”, König rasped, appearing out of thin air right behind you like a lynx before grabbing you and putting you onto his shoulders.

“Woah!”, you cried out in surprise, “A warning, next time please?”

���Next time? Do you think we are making this a habit, Mausi?”

You giggled at the sound of the pet name and started to feel the street sign for any way to remove the board from the pole.

“Shit!”, you cursed, “We need a screwdriver. Or a socket wrench.”

“A what?”

“A socket wrench.” You made a few cracking sounds to imitate a socket wrench while circling your hands like using… well, a wrench.

“Ah”, was all your boyfriend did while fumbling at his belt underneath you.

You grabbed the sign to steady yourself and grimaced. It really was dirty.

“Try this.”, König passed you his multi tool, “Try the screwdriver on the left side.

You mumbled a few curses while trying to see and get out the right piece of the multi tool in the twilight.

“Got it.”, you finally whispered after having cut yourself nearly twice while fumbling with the tool, “Why do you even have that with you, König?”

“To steal shit and cause havoc of course”, he replied without hesitation.

“Ah-a”, you replied while working on dislodging the sign. It took you a few tries but König hardly swayed underneath you or complained about your weight while you worked on securing the trophy.

“I have it.”, you finally declared and pulled the sign free.

“Is it heavy?”

“No, König, I can hold it. Just let me get down.”

Another of those gremlin snickers escaped your boyfriend as he stepped away from the pole and started walking into the direction of the town.

“What are you doing!”, you cried, trying to hold onto him with the multitool in one hand and the in spiderwebs and dirt covered huge sign in your other.

“I’m carrying you home. You didn’t want to walk anyway, and I’m tired of waiting for you, Mausi.”

“Fucking hell.”, you cursed while grabbing onto his head for balance.

XXX

Epilogue

It was past midday as you woke up. König was snoring peacefully next to you with the pillow over his head to keep out the light.

Still feeling sleepy but not tired enough to get up yet, you turned – and stilled.

Next to the bed was a sign.

A huge streetsign.

You elbowed König and he groaned in protest.

“What is it?”, he grumbled.

“Exactly. What is this?”

With a sheepish look he looked over you.

“Huh, Mausi. That looks like a night's out yield.”

[itsirk-is-tha-opposite]

I just finished watching manlybadasshero's playthrough of Jisatsu (Chilla's Art) and i am having korangi + reader Thoughts... even if i wasnt paying attention for half the time 😋

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

König × Reader × Horangi

Tags: as SFW as it could be + fluff, mentions of sex, killing, mindbreak, torture, and creepy image attatched

Thinking of one of the three being the killer who sacrifices whoever into The Hole and the other two being a supernatural entity in the "abandoned" house.

THE WAY THIS WILL WORK WITH ANY COMBINATION! Horangi being the killer, König being the killer, or reader being the killer with 2 sexy ghosts ready to sloppy style hent*i mode them whenever they want

Im biased to reader being a supernatural creature bc it makes me happy to be non-human, especially a creepy one 🩷 but you can tailor this y/n experience to yourselves! Fit this AU to your personality and way youd act because god knows im not going to write fics for other people ! Only for my self indulgence and delusional mind !

Some thoughts i had if reader was the killer. They could be someone who was living here since it was built, or even a homeless living in an abandoned house bc its free property. And then weird things start to crop up, or The Hole beckons for them, or könig and horangi try to scare/psychologically torture reader and readers like "meh, my family was worse" (or even caved in and mindbroken 👀). Potential!!!!!

Fuck imagine könig/horangi killing reader and reader became a vengeful spirit but after years theyre like "yeah we kinda chilled out. We dont go to each others necks anymore and even enjoy each others company. He apologised and i forgave him. It wasnt a big deal anyway, got nothing going on for me in life."

The way the ghosts doesnt have to be normal 👻👻 ghosts, you can be any ghost from your own culture ! How amazing is that! Id love to be a kuntilanak just chilling with my beautiful long hair, not having to wash it anyway because im dead.

Even if theres potential for hot sloppy earthshattering cumsplattering ghost sex, i dont wanna think about it. Im thinking of the more 🩷 romantic 🩷 aspects of being like this. I dont know why but theres something romantic about killing other people for someone you love.

Imagine könig/horangi/you feeling restless after killing those people or from the past endured, and two of your supernatural partners calm your soul in those nights so you could sleep soundly and wake up again tomorrow not because they want you to kill again, but because they worry for you. Because they love you.

☹️☹️☹️ see its cute. Fucked up cute.

Banners made by me! I'll post my designs of their forms both ghostly and human...ish soon! I have so many drawings in my samsung notes its not funny. Keep in mind i am still a minor, MDNI accounts dont interact!!

[poquiii]

König x reader / Ghost x reader headcanons      

              When they are sick. 

König

● You were a little embarrassed when you thought about how "sick Koenig" is one of your favorite sides of him.

● He becomes like a toddler.

● If it's just the two of you, he becomes like a big whiny lump, demanding affection and attention.

● However, if there are other people around, he tries to hide his illness. he does not let others see his weakness. You are the one exception.

● He would make those adorable puppy dog eyes, asking you to make him chicken soup.

●  König would ask you to hold his hand, but just a little, he doesn't want you to get sick.

● Even though he wants your love madly, he's embarrassed to look too pathetic or spoiled.

● He knows you see him as a protector. Big and strong.

● So if possible, he tries to take care of himself, unless his symptoms are serious.

● You ask him to go to bed and let you take care of him.

● You want to put a special ointment on his chest. He blushes a lot and it's not because of the fever. His voice trembles a little when he asks you not to stop.

● After this gesture of his, König suddenly says that he feels worse (but you see that this is not true) and he will ask you to be with him longer. Maybe you will put that ointment on him again.

Ghost.

●  He's a tough guy.

● Too cool to admit he has a fever.

●  He'll never let you know he's sick.

●  Sickness is a weakness and he doesn't want anyone to know about it.

●  However, he will suddenly begin to shun you.

●  Ghost will keep his distance between you and avoid kissing you.

●  He is very worried that you might get sick.

●  You will have to make him sit in a chair so that you can take his temperature.

●  He will refuse for a long time and eventually give in only after you sweetly pout and frown your eyebrows. He loved that look on your face.

●  He goes to work anyway.

●  Ghost won't let you take care of him.

●  After all, he's supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.

●  You convince him that he doesn't.

●  In fact, he likes the way you take care of him.

●  He's still not used to feeling loved and every time you bring your hands to his sweaty and pale face he can't keep his body from trembling with pleasure.

●  After he recovers, he won't let you talk about it, because he's back on track.

●  You giggle kissing his cheek: "Of course, my cold-blooded protector."

In the next part, you're going to be sick and they're going to take care of you.

My Ao3 🖤

[nrdmssgs]

Hello id like to humbly request a scenario with König where y/n previously went MIA, and is assumed dead. König is sent on a hostage rescue mission and when he gets there finds out not only is she alive, but she’s one of the hostages he’s there to rescue 🩷 i ADORE your writing!

Masterlist

Angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing: König x afab reader

TW: Mention of alcohol, several mentions of grief and depression, mentions of injuries, mention of human trafficking, swearing.

Authors note: I've tried to keep all the disturbing stuff very mild, but I can't help but see, as the readers` alleged death would absolutely crush König. Sorry for taking so long. I love this request so much, I can't stop thanking you, dear anon. Love you! This is actually kinda songfic, so if anybody needs music for this one: here you are.

Scarlet shell

“König, listen to me! Please! There is no body! There is nothing, we could possibly miss here!” His squad mate is trying to catch up with König, but it's impossible: he moves forward, maneuvering, between cargo transports at incredible speed.

How many times did he search for you past days? More precisely, how many dozens of times? 

He searched every centimeter of the perimeter where you worked, checked literally everywhere.

He did not take breaks for food or sleep. His team gradually lost strength, but he did not give up: he continued to circle around the place where the explosion thundered on that fateful night.

Koenig could not bring himself to stop and admit the obvious: if you were at the epicenter at the time of the explosion, only a damp shadow on the ground and a couple of scraps of clothing could remain from your body.

You don't need to talk if you don't feel like it, my love. Please never feel sorry for staying silent around me. Never beat up yourself. We all are born different, we walk different paths: your journey has made you waste most of the words we could have shared very early. It sometimes happens so, I know. The truth is that you don't have to put into words what you feel when you are next to me: I see it all in your eyes. You have reached such perfection in these silent speeches that I am ready to sit and listen to you endlessly. Even if "listening" means just looking into your eyes.

At first, he can't make himself come into your room. He comes to the door, holds out his hand and, after standing there for a while, turns around.

He needs to collect your belongings, make room for a new resident. But König can't gather enough strength.

When he finally forces himself into your room, a deafening silence engulfs him: your voice no longer here, your laughter, even your breathing is no longer heard.

König starts to collect your things, putting them carefully in a cardboard box: clothes, equipment, books, small utensils. All this absorbed your smell, your warmth. Every single item seems to burn his fingers.

He doesn't know how long it takes before he gives up: it hurts so much, he feels the pain on a physical level. 

Your shirt falls on the edge of the box. He brushes his fingers against your blanket and pillow. König kneels, then curls up right on the floor, ignoring the dust.

“Meine… meine…*” He can't even say your name - it gets stuck right in his throat, choking him. He never had enough words, when you were around, and he hates himself for that. But now, he loses even your name.

Sometimes I just think about words. Yesterday I looked at you and thought of the beautiful word you taught me: “die Hingabe” or "devotion". What is it in essence? Persistence and immutability in ones feelings, right? I was bored, so I googled this word. The search engine told me that it has approximately 195 million pages in its database that mention this word. Things were better with the word "honor" - almost 2 billion pages. With "love" - 11 billion pages. So love is 56 times more popular than devotion... Although it is clear that only a deeply devoted person can truly love, right?

Sometimes he hates it: his devotion to you does not weaken with time. A few years pass, and he learns to live in constant pain. Learns to wake up every morning, knowing well, he won't see your face. Grows accustomed to all-consuming silence and cold around him.

But what drives him to the limit is a constant urge to finish yet another mission, just to come back to the base, bury his face in your shirt and disappear completely in a slumber without thoughts.

Nothing helps: alcohol tastes like water, training doesn't leave him breathless and too weak to even think of you, no matter how hard he tries.

At some point, he even finds himself talking to another woman. She even takes his number, and sometimes they exchange warm and kind messages. He answers her automatically. 

Returning from their third meeting (he cant even call it a date), he realizes with horror that he does not remember her face.

There are no faces left in his life, except for one - that which he can neither see nor touch anymore. Your face.

My love, I see the scars, your traumas left on your body and in your mind. I know, it hurts. Every time, I ask you about them - I mean no further harm. You don't have to tell unless you are not ready. But I want you to see, that all those things didn't break you: you have not become the monster, you are scared of. There is still so much love, so much light in your hands. I want you to know, that the only reason, I'm asking you about your past traumas is that I want to fight them for you, to help you to heal. I'll fight for that love and light, you bear. Not to get them from you, never. But only for you to feel it all inside your heart.

König doesn't notice anything different. He just needed a new veil and didn't have any old black tshirts on hands.

So first he puts on a dark scarlet veil. It is still convenient. Then his old gloves are torn and he orders new ones... To match the color of the top.

It's just some gear, it doesn't affect anything. But rumors are spreading around the base.

"He's off the chain." 

"Did you see what he did to the hostiles on the last mission?" 

"That animal is unleashed." 

"We no longer have König - there is only the bloody beast under that veil" 

"I'm terrified by those red clothes whenever they flash somewhere on the battlefield. Fucking omen."

König ignores the whispers. He doesn't care. Is he more productive now? Well, maybe it's for better.

I keep writing you these silly letters, but I will never send them. I don't want to embarrass you with my chatter. I'll stack them in my drawer:  letter after letter, confession after confession. I told you the most important words a long time ago, but all this ... I don't want to think about the circumstances under which you could find these letters and read them. But if something does happen, remember: I am yours, from head to toe, completely yours. Even if I'm not next to you now - my body, my mind and my heart - yours. Love you.

His commanders tend not to send him on missions where he would have to interact with civilians. His approach to combat really becomes so brutal that bystanders and hostages run the risk of getting too severe moral trauma.

But when it comes to cleaning up an entire village, where people from all over the world are brought for human trafficking, they simply have no choice. They need the best of the best soldiers, and König tops the list.

And he justifies the title of the best: he sweeps through the village like a tornado, cleaning one room after another.

König is somehow merciful enough to rip the padlocks off the doors where the hostages were being held, make sure there are only civilians in the room, and move on to the next door and the next building.

He unleashes a wave of fury on his enemies, alternating quick kills with slow and painful ones. None of his team dares to speak to him.

When they report to him that the last building is cleared, and they can move back, he turns around with a predatory look.

The building where he stopped is immersed in silence. One of his people says something, but König only raises his finger to his lips and gestures that he is going to check the second floor.

He doesn't hear anything suspicious, doesn't see anything... But some inhuman instinct tells him that he's not alone here.

König tries to step quietly, but the old withered boards crackle treacherously under his feet.

He walks up to the back room on the second floor and pushes the door open. He remembers very well how he himself knocked out the lock some 15 minutes ago, but there was no one in the room ...

This time he comes in and takes a closer look. His eyes linger on the pile of dusty rags, carpets and gutted cushions on the floor.

It appears suspicious. He slowly approaches, pulls out a knife, and throws back several pillows at once.

What he sees makes him freeze in horror. Your face... He saw your face - emaciated, covered with cuts and bruises of all colors. You covered your mouth in horror with your hand, the faded skin tight around every bone, every joint. It seemed that even your eyes had lost almost all color: two dark gray abysses stared back at Koenig in fear of death.

You looked more like your own ghost, but that didn't matter. He very carefully lowered the knife to the ground.

"It's me." König unbuttoned his helmet and removed it and his veil. "It's me..."

You didn't answer. Only large tears glistened in the corners of your eyes.

“Meine Liebe*, it`s me.” He kept whispering, hoping to calm you down, while removing layer after layer of rags and pillows, covering your body.

He throws away tactical gloves and carefully inspects you to understand, if youre injured. His body trembles, his voice fails him and König proceeds to the only way, he can convince you, that you are safe at last: he takes you in his hands, carefully cradles your fragile body and presses kisses against tear stains on your cheeks. 

When his team finds him slowly rocking you in his hands, they step back, giving you two some privacy.

But they notice the bloody-red veil and gloves, laying on the floor as a cracked, broken and finally not needed shell.

*Meine - my *Meine Liebe - my love

[namjuicyy]

When Namjoon meets you in a bakery, he never expected to become so obsessed with you.

Namjoon x reader

Strangers to lovers, inspired by You on Netflix.

25+

Word count: 13.8k

Wattpad | Masterlist

WARNINGS: Stalking, non-con, panty fetish, voyeurism, daddy kink, slut shaming, degradation (I mean serious degradation, these are not soft words at all these are borderline feminist issues), power play, use of the word bitch, lesbian phone sex, masturbation, pillow humping, hidden cameras, sex toys, somnophilia, choking, face-slapping, under – non-negotiated kinks, dom/sub, predator/prey, begging, pain kink, lack of foreplay, lack of aftercare (briefly), penis-in-vagina sex, unprotected sex, free-use kink, breeding kink, dacrophilia, size kink, Namjoon has a big dick (wbk), cuckolding (shiiiiit we getting all these kinks in this fic Jesus!), overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), fear play, a panic attack, obscene use of the word "cunt" (it's actually my favourite word, I think), manipulation, switch!Reader; forced submission, cock-stepping, ruined orgasm,

This story is kind of dark and also kind of creepy. In real life scenarios, this kind of behaviour is never acceptable but as this is a work of fiction it should be treated as such. I am not glamorising or romanticising stalking or any of the more damaging tags that this fic is associated with. Basically, don't do it. It's creepy and weird. Always make sure kinks are fully negotiated before you put them into practice, and also don't stalk people. That isn't okay. And if you are going through that right now, please know that there are so many resources available to make sure you are safe. But also please take care of yourself. I am also not associating Namjoon with any of these traits in real life. Nor am I assuming his real-life sexuality. I reiterate, this is a work of fiction, nothing more. If you are triggered by any of the above tags, DO NOT read this fic. Your mental health is far more important than a story.

Words mentioned in the fic that aren't featured anywhere except The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig (I'm testing the waters here so please bear with me):

Ghough: n. A hollow place in your psyche that can never be filled, a bottomless hunger for more food, more praise, more attention, more joy, more sex, more money, more hours of sunshine; a sense of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you. Onomatopoeic to the sound of a devouring maw. Pronounced "hawkh", with air drawn sharply inward through the mouth. ­

He couldn't help that he was so obsessed with you. It was your fault really... you shouldn't be so intoxicating that you'd cause his brain to overload with nothing but thoughts of you. You came into his life like an atom bomb, tearing a hole through his planet to the point where he never thought he would recover. All you did was smile at him and ask him if he wanted a bag to carry his pastries home with. But your smile was so pulchritudinous, so enslaving, your hair messy and disheveled from your hardworking nature, and flour all over your sweet face; he was a goner at the very second. He glanced at your nametag and memorised the spelling with such speed he was barely out of the bakery before he'd begun to search for you on social media. The worst part about it all was the fact that he wanted to know so much more about you but didn't want to concern you. He knew that men had a tendency to come on too strong and that you'd probably be on your guard. He wanted you to be at ease with him, to realise that he was the only one who could keep you happy for the rest of your life. If that meant he had to treat you delicately then so be it. Fragile you were, and careful he'd be. He was in it for the long haul, a true gentleman of the modern era.

All he really wanted to know was your work times. He just wanted to know when he'd come into the store and bump into you. Honestly, he had no intention of searching for anything else, except maybe some of the things that you enjoyed so he could strike up a natural conversation with you. But that was it – scout's honour. He discovered from your social media that you were an avid baker, who loved working at the local bakery not because it was a temporary source of income until something better came along, but because this was the better option for you. Sure, you were paid just above the minimum wage, but this was your lifelong passion, and you prided yourself on putting your happiness first. He also unveiled that you had plans to become a business owner yourself, bringing in your main source of income while just doing your hobby. It was a smart idea really – who wanted a job they hated when they could be paid well for what they loved? You were a smart woman. A true unicorn in a field of horses. He decided there and then that you were his soulmate. And as he sat in the park, scrolling through your social media profile and discovering more about you, he was sure the pastries you baked him were the best he'd ever eaten.

He came into the bakery around two days later at the exact time when you would be working. Unfortunately, though, this time your co-worker was manning the till for you, allowing you to hide in the kitchens and not venture into the main room. Last time your co-worker was on a break, which was why you looked so frazzled and stressed. You Tweeted about how the batch that was baking at the time Namjoon entered the premises had burned because you were trying to do everything. Your co-worker was useless anyway. They never helped you. You were running that business as if it were your own. He needed to cause some kind of distraction to get you out there so he could talk to you. But what could he do sneakily? If he caused a scene – you'd panic. He couldn't bear being the cause of one of your anxiety attacks. He also didn't want to fake complain about anything because he knew you'd panic and think you weren't good enough. And he couldn't be the reason that you'd never realise your dream and your full potential. Compliments were good... maybe he could try and pass on a message... but it would be better coming from him and not your idle assistant. If he told her to tell you something, he would have no doubt it would go in one ear and out the other. No, he had to do it in person.

He stepped forward and looked at her nametag. "Excuse me, Emma. Could you grab the chef for me? I would like to compliment her work."

Emma gave him a look that called him peculiar. "Chef? What do you think this is, a restaurant?"

Namjoon simply smiled. "And you're like... twelve?"

A voice came from the kitchens. "Emma, take a break." Emma didn't reply. She only rolled her eyes, picked up her phone and made her way to the back room. Namjoon turned to look at the voice, only to discover it was you.

You were much more put together than the last time he saw you – clearly your day wasn't quite as hectic as it was two days ago. Not that he minded your tousled appearance. On the contrary, he found it cute and endearing, but there was no doubt that you were a Venus on Earth. An eighth wonder of the world that lay undiscovered in the quiet city you both called home. There was a light dusting of flushed pink nestled on your cheeks to indicate some hard work, but not enough to make you break into a sweat. Your hair was back off your face, allowing him to marvel at your refinement. Poised, bright, bubbly, with a smile that could knock anyone off their feet. He was falling for you and falling so fast he wondered just how hard the impact would be when he landed.

Suddenly, you spoke again. Your soft voice dancing into his ears and lifting his spirits just a little more. Oh, how sweet you sounded. "How can I help you, sir?"

Oh, how can you help me indeed, he thought to himself. Wistful thoughts catching him off guard and seemingly turning into a brand-new person. "I-I don't know if you remember me," he was finally able to choke out, "I was here two days ago... I bought some pastries."

You smiled. Of course, he'd buy pastries, this was a bakery after all. "I remember you."

You did? He was sure you were lying to make him feel better. You did, after all, house the kindest heart in your chest. There was no mistaking you wouldn't want him to feel awkward or upset. "Oh, you do? Well, I hadn't been here before and I just wanted to thank you for making such delicious treats. I really enjoyed them! They were my favourites – the best I'd eaten in a long time." Mentally he scolded himself for saying the words delicious treats aloud. Why was he talking so formally to you? And why did it make him sound like an elderly man? It was weird and it made him cringe. You made him so nervous he became overly polite. Why would you bewitch him in such a way he couldn't form sentences without seeming like a creep?

Wait... was that a smile he saw? "How did you know it was me who baked them?" Were you teasing him? There was no doubt you were playful; he knew it from finding your friend's posts about you. He watched you goof around with them with such a childlike freedom. It was wonderful to see you so extricated and alive.

It was his turn to tease, "I'd never mistake a gorgeous face."

You blushed. He'd won. "Well, that's very kind of you to say so, thank you."

"I was wondering if I could get your number?" He bluntly asked, still feeling so shy despite his obvious charm working on you. "I would love to thank you properly for creating such a memorable experience with a memorable experience of my own."

"Oh? And what would this memorable experience be?"

He smiled, "Well, if I told you then you wouldn't want to come. There's nothing wrong with a little mystery, especially for a first date."

Your smile dimmed slightly as you considered your response, no doubt weighing up your options quickly to ensure your safest and most comfortable option. "Of course. Here you are." You gave him your number on a napkin and told him to call you.

The thing you didn't realise was, he had already found and saved your number into his phone. He was just hoping for permission to call you.

Namjoon had scheduled a date for you both the following weekend on your first day off. He had made sure that you had no plans written on your Google calendar, but of course, he couldn't just come out and say that he knew you even had a Google calendar, let alone your schedule. But he just couldn't wait a week to see you. He was buzzing with teenage excitement, lovesick nerves and anxiety that the whole day should go as exactly to plan, and that you had such a good time you would have no reason to not fall in love with him as he had with you. He was aware you wouldn't experience love at first sight. He was convinced he wasn't much of a looker himself, but he knew he had the personality of someone you could hold very close to your heart. You needed time to see how perfect he was for you. And while he was willing to wait for you to fall for him, he refused to wait to see you.

He hadn't been to work in a few days, calling in and telling his boss he had some kind of stomach bug and it was best he stayed home for a while. His boss, like the fool he was, believed Namjoon and told him to take all the time he needed. Of course, Namjoon had no plans to be away for so long, but every day he kept finding himself being drawn to this one place in particular... your house.

Your low income meant that you lived in a small flat in a run-down building just off the main road. You were a few metres away from the nearest bus stop, and the bus that ran near your house wasn't convenient enough to be considered a main route, therefore the price of your rent went down to a mere three hundred per month. Well, the routes were only a small contributor. The biggest was that your neighbourhood was filled with crime. As soon as he discovered this, he became anxious for your safety. Of course, you'd lived there for long enough without him in your life, but the second it was appropriate he would whisk you away to the nicer part of town, nearby your brand-new bakery.

You were on the first floor, and he could see your place through the window on the street. You didn't have any curtains; you were practically inviting him inside. Though, of course, the true reason was that you preferred the natural light and curtains blocked that from you. Even so, you seemed to not care about your possessions or your privacy which was concerning given your location. God, he wanted to be in there with you, feeling your warm body tangled up next to his, snuggled close together on the sofa and watching some kind of trashy show on the television. Something you, especially, were particularly fond of. He had no taste for that rubbish, but for you he'd watch anything.

The days passed so quickly, and Namjoon was shocked to wonder just where they went. Every day he came to your house and watched you live your life, even after your very successful first date. He was still drawn to you. Sometimes he would text you to see your reaction to him, and oh, how it warmed his heard to watch you dive across your living room to get to your phone, and how brightly you smiled when you saw it was him. You acted as though you missed him. You were starting to fall for him too, he could feel it.

There was a burglary in your neighbourhood just two hours after he left your home, and when he heard the news break from one of his colleagues when he finally returned to work, he immediately left to go to your house. He didn't remember what the excuse was he gave his boss. Quite frankly, he didn't care. He needed to know that your place wasn't next.

In his haste, he forgot that you were still at work, which gave him the mental justification to figure out just how safe your house was from intruders. He had to know that you were safe and well protected. He wasn't breaking into your house... not really. He was just testing the home his future wife temporarily called hers. And there absolutely was nothing wrong with that. And it was just as he feared it would be: easy. Namjoon was beside himself. Did you not care about your safety and wellbeing like he did? Did you want people to break into your house? It sure seemed that way given the ease in which your door opened for him, and the lack of curtains hanging from your living room wall. You were inviting anyone to look in, to come in. Maybe that was what you wanted. Maybe there was something dark and twisted inside your innocent head that wanted something bad to happen to you. Maybe you got off to the idea.

And suddenly that was all he could think about. Thoughts consumed him of him breaking into your house and doing as he pleased with your body. His body. How he could play with you while you slept, how he could touch your skin without you knowing. How he could take you any which way he pleased, and you wouldn't have a goddamn say in it. You'd just have to be a pliant girl and take what you were given. Yes. Yes! Fuck, his hand felt good around his cock as he stroked it quickly, picturing your writhing body underneath him. The glint in your eye that was slightly fearful, but mostly full of desire. He knew that your tight, wet heat would feel so much better than his hand, but he just couldn't resist. What if instead of finding you asleep in bed, he found you on the couch? Him being so desperate for you he'd take you then and there. Not bothering to remove your clothes or his for that matter. Just pulling his cock out, moving your panties to the side and fucking into you with reckless abandon. Tugging your bra down to give your perfect breasts the room they needed to bounce uncontrollably with every thrust. Fuck. Taking you in front of the window. Making sure your neighbours saw the man who claimed you. Yes. Mine. Mine! "Mine!"

He came all over your coffee table. His seed pooling on the wood and dripping down onto the laminate floor. Thankfully it was easy to clean and wouldn't leave an unwelcome stain when it was removed. But he couldn't remove it now. He was too tired. Too worked up. The first time he thought of you sexually and he violated himself in your very living room. It was unforgivable yet addicting.

This became a regular occurrence for him. He'd wait until you'd left the house then make his way inside, just so he could be near you – feel you surrounding him. Breathing you in like you were his oxygen. He wouldn't always stay in your living room. Sometimes he'd nap on your bed and envelope himself in your sheets. Sometimes he'd imagine you masturbating for him on the bed, and he'd make himself cum while burying his face in your pillow, praying you rode it multiple times. But that dirty thought gave him an idea... your panties. When he used your bathroom one time, he saw your almost full laundry basket. Yet for some reason, his dumb mind didn't comprehend the fact that your angelic pussy had been caged in some of the fabric, that it would smell like you. He touched himself while he had your panties pressed to his nose, or his tongue rolling over fabric just so he could get the smallest taste of you. He imagined the real thing. Your hands in his hair, your screams of pleasure, the begging you'd do for more. Fuck, he was obsessed with you!

However, one day something unexpected happened: you came home early. He had no idea why you'd come home early – this wasn't your usual pattern of behaviour. You were usually consistent and reliable, yet here you were making the steps to your bedroom while he was standing in it, cock in his hand and jerking it while licking a pair of your panties he'd stolen from the bathroom. To say Namjoon panicked would be an understatement. He knew the implications of his current standing, and the consequences of him being caught. He needed to think fast. You were so close to the bedroom now. His only option was to hide in your closet and pray you didn't come home to change.

Luckily for him, that wasn't the reason you came home.

You were on the phone to someone, but he couldn't tell who it was. He hadn't memorised your calling behaviour yet, so he couldn't tell if you were talking to family, or if this was a business call. Though, when he heard your giggle, and saw the way in which you lay on your bed, this was definitely not a business call.

Your legs spread as soon as your back touched the plush surface of your bed, and instantly, you moaned. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, secretly watching you from the closet as you removed your panties and rolled your skirt up. He couldn't quite catch a glimpse of your pussy from the angle he was at, but that didn't matter too much for him. He saw your hand dip into the wetness of your cunt to pull up and lubricate your clit, giving it a few tentative strokes before speaking. "Daddy, you're such a tease. Please let me."

As soon as he heard the word 'daddy', he wanted to come out of the closet, turn you onto all fours and pound into you while Daddy was still on the phone. Wanted the dirty pervert on the other end of the line to hear that the woman he was speaking to belonged to someone else. Wanted to hear the primal way in which Namjoon railed his princess. Though, he had to admit, hearing the word 'daddy' being moaned from your plump lips introduced a brand-new kink in him. He wanted you to call him that. He was going to be your daddy.

But one thing he didn't know was how much of a whore you were. He didn't know that you were dating him and had another man on the side. Who was this man? And why did he get most of your attention? As of that moment, he tried not to think too much of it, as your perfect breasts were released from the confines of your bra. His cock, he realised, never went soft. In fact, more blood rushed to it as he watched you play with yourself for another man. As he watched you strip quickly so you were incredibly naked for this person who couldn't even see you. Fuck, your body was just as perfect as he imagined it would be – in fact, it was better than he imagined. He was going crazy.

You moaned and put the phone on speaker. "No please, Daddy. Let me do it. Let me rub my pussy."

A voice came from the other end of the phone, and it certainly put some shock into Namjoon. "Okay, angel. I want you to take a pillow in between your beautiful legs and rub yourself on it. Imagine it's my pussy." A woman? You were having phone sex with a woman – and you called her 'Daddy'? Fucking hell, Namjoon almost came prematurely. You were very quiet about your sexuality online, so he didn't come to expect that you were at the very least bi-curious. He watched you manoeuvre your pillows to a comfortable degree before placing your pussy over the top. Your hips began to move and you let out an incredibly loud moan. No doubt finally feeling good at the relief you were able to experience.

"Daddy, your pussy feels so good against me."

"You like it, baby? Fuck, I wish we were on video call. I wanna see how good you look rubbing against your pillow like a dumb slut."

A cheeky smile passed on your lips as you picked the phone up. Namjoon watched you hide the calling screen and move to take a video. You were filming yourself for your Daddy to tease her. You were a wildcard, and Namjoon hadn't bet on it. One day, he knew you were going to treat him like this too, and he wasn't sure if he was actually ready for it. There were so many times where he thought he was going to cum, he had to pause and just watch you before the lack of stimulation was unbearable. You were so loud for Daddy, there was no doubt the neighbours could hear you, too. Namjoon wondered how many of them were also touching themselves while listening to your heavenly moans. All the more reason to fuck you in front of the window. Remind them that you're not to be touched. He thought, squeezing his balls. He watched as your hips moved faster, heard as your moans grew louder, and came on your closet door when you soaked your pillow.

As it turned out, you were quite partial to touching yourself and did it so frequently that you knew exactly how to please yourself. And Namjoon wished he could always time his visits when you would be touching yourself so he could have his live show again and again. And knowing he missed so much of you already had prompted him to purchase a series of cameras. They were tiny things that could be hidden easily, even in plain sight, and so he did. The main bulk of the cameras were hidden in the two rooms you spent most of your time: the living room and the bedroom.

It became his routine to monitor them at the end of the day before bed. He'd watch you almost on a live stream during the weekend, so he didn't miss a thing, and coincidentally was also the time that you came alive. What he hadn't anticipated was that your personal escapades were in no way exclusively tied to the bedroom, and in fact, sometimes you'd just stuff your pussy full while watching TV. You'd spread your legs and prop them up on the coffee table, and mindlessly pound away, letting the dildos get bigger and bigger each time you no longer felt satisfied. You didn't always hit orgasm every time you used them, but Namjoon certainly did. He thanked his lucky stars he bought cameras with microphones, because he might have lost his mind if he didn't hear you. So many hours of you playing with yourself, so much content for him to jerk off to. He couldn't quite believe it.

He experimented with you a few times without you knowing it. Sometimes he'd text you while you were in the middle of fucking yourself, asking about what you were up to or trying to start a conversation. He was surprised to see you continue to play with yourself while texting him with a completely innocent smile on your face where you were so happy to hear from him. Other times he'd call you. He never expected you to answer the phone, but sometimes you did. If he wasn't watching you take in a cock that was above the average size, he would assume that you were doing nothing. You were able to hide the pleasure in your voice so well from him, but he could always see your face screwed up in ecstasy. Or even mouthing the occasional expletive to cope with the incredible bliss you were feeling. It wasn't even as if you were going easy on yourself, sometimes you were bouncing on the cock you'd wedged in between the couch cushion or suctioned to the laminate floor.

Despite you both dating for almost a month, he was yet to be officially invited into your house, or into your pussy. He tried – subtly, but the attempt was still there. But you weren't having it. It wasn't that you didn't want to. In fact, Namjoon had audible and visual proof that sometimes you would bounce on an above-average cock and call out his name. He wanted to know what you were thinking of during those times: what you imagined him doing to you. He hoped it was the same as what he'd imagined. But of course, he'd never force that on you. Traumatising you was the last thing he wanted. So he bade his time, waiting for the day that you gave him the honour.

He was invited into your house before you allowed him to sleep with you. The two of you went out to drink one Saturday night, and you got more wasted than he did. But, of course, he was a gentleman. He took you home and got you to bed. He would never take advantage of you. He didn't touch you inappropriately or force you to do anything he wanted you to do. Even when you made a grab for his crotch and begged him for it. He wanted your first time together to be completely sober so you'd both remember it. It didn't stop him from getting hard, though, and it certainly never stopped him from stroking his cock over your sleeping body, remembering what it was like to ever so briefly feel your touch in the area he wanted it the most.

He watched your eyes flicker and heard your sleepy sighs as the head of his cock got closer and closer to your face, touching your lips gently. He was imagining your lips wrapped around it, how warm and wet it would feel and how good you'd suck him. There were thoughts crossing his mind about how easy it would be to violate you right now. How he had to fight himself from reaching down and playing with your clit, knowing your pussy was smooth to the touch and wet. How he could spread your legs and sink his length inside and you'd probably know nothing of it until you woke up the next morning. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" He whispered, eyes trained on your lips where his precum was beading and dripping onto. "You've wanted me to take this tight little cunt for months. Dirty whore."

He wondered what would happen if you woke up. He expected you'd be surprised but you'd consent very quickly. It never took much work to get you wet, after all. In fact, he'd even seen you gagging for it a few times, begging to no one when you'd fuck yourself stupid, hoping for someone to take you and rail you. He knew how filthy you could be, how open-minded you were, and even the stuff you'd say to yourself as you rode your various dildos. Even the fantasies you'd share with Daddy. How you'd pull your nipples and beg for someone to spit in your mouth or choke your pretty throat. How you'd even slap your own face and clit when you were told to.

The image of you underneath him, cheeks and neck red from where he'd been slapping you and choking you sprang in his mind. And the wild, delirious look in your eyes telling him you loved the pain he was giving you was what tipped him over the edge, spilling his cum onto your lips and watching it roll down your chin and cheeks. Of course, he cleaned you up gently so not to disturb you, but put the image of his cum on your face in the back of his mind to save for a later date. For now, he'd sleep.

He woke before you, his back sore from sleeping on the floor all night so as he could continue to take care of you but not invade your personal space more than what he did last night. Thanks to all his previous rummaging when you weren't around, he was able to remember what you had in your cupboards and fridge, allowing him to make you both the perfect hangover breakfast. He had planned to serve you breakfast in bed, waking you up gently with water, grease and an anti-sickness tablet. But you'd entered the kitchen long before he was ready to dish up. He stopped cooking and immediately turned to you, incredibly politely stopping what he was doing. "I'm sorry I did this without asking you first. I just wanted to surprise you."

You were not offended by his actions in the slightest. Instead, your eyes conveyed gratitude and warmth. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a gentle, yet tired, kiss on his lips. You teased him, "I'm angrier at you for letting me get drunk last night."

"All the more reason for me to make you the ultimate cure."

You poured yourself a glass of water and that was when Namjoon noticed it: your attire. You'd changed from last night, no doubt uncomfortable in those tight, ass-hugging jeans. Instead of being appropriately covered around a man who you still didn't fully know yet, you opted to wear an oversized shirt and nothing else. You definitely weren't wearing a bra. He'd seen you in your loungewear enough to know what your perfect tits looked like both caged in fabric and free. Maybe others couldn't tell the difference, but he certainly could. Knowing how you liked to be comfortable, he could also make an educated guess that you eschewed the option to wear your panties, too. The thought made him a little hard in his briefs.

You broke the silence and leant up against the counter next to him, looking up at his face as you spoke. "I want to apologise to last night. Or rather, apologise for anything I did or said to you that might have been a little rude."

Namjoon smiled, "You did nothing that wasn't welcomed."

"That means I did something."

"I'm certainly not holding it against you."

You groaned, "Oh God, what did I do?"

"Honestly, it's okay."

"No," you begged, "please tell me so I can properly apologise."

Namjoon sighed, "You grabbed my crotch and asked me to spend the night with you... in a nutshell."

You buried your head in your free hand. "I am so, incredibly sorry. I honestly don't know what I do when I'm that drunk. I promise, it's nothing that I would normally do."

"Like I said, I'm not holding it against you."

You breathed a sigh of relief, then paused. Namjoon could hear the cogs in your brain working as you thought about something. "Wait... you said that I didn't do anything that wasn't welcomed. So, how long have you waited for me, and wanted me to grab your cock and beg for sex?"

Namjoon stopped cooking and looked at you. He lowered his voice, "Now, baby, I never said you begged."

"Do you want me to beg for it?"

Namjoon turned to face you, and gently put his hand on your throat. There was no constriction: he allowed you to move his hand or move your body if you were uncomfortable. But you didn't move. You didn't even flinch. It was impressive the way you just smiled at him and held his wrist in place. It was almost as if you wanted him to tighten his grip – so he did. "What I want is neither here nor there, but I know that I'll have you crying for me. You'll be on your knees begging for me without me even having to order you."

Namjoon heard the little whimper that came from the back of your throat. He noticed the way your thighs were squirming, trying to relieve the pressure of your arousal. And he saw the way you swallowed to try and whet your very dry throat, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his grip on your throat loosened and his hand fell to his side. His attention turned back to cooking, though he could see your shock in his peripheral vision. He shrugged his shoulders, "But I don't know if we're ready for that kind of step yet. I wouldn't want to rush things."

He didn't need to see your face to know how stunned you were by the whole situation. If you were anything like him, which he had seen you were recently, he knew you would be contemplating getting on your knees and begging for him to rail you. It was hard enough for him to conceal his arousal from you. He didn't want you to see just how much you affected him.

You, however, did something that Namjoon wasn't expecting. You turned away from him and made your way over to an empty counter. As soon as you sat on it, you called Namjoon's name. When he turned to look at you, he watched you spread your legs for him – a sudden confidence he only saw when you were on the phone with "Daddy". His suspicions about you were correct in that you were wearing absolutely no underwear whatsoever, allowing him to see your perfect pussy in its entirety. He dropped the spoon he was holding and stared at your body, his mind turning numb.

Cutting the tension in the air, you spoke, "Remind me again, who's in charge?"

Touché, he thought. Finally, he was brought back to Earth. He turned the food off and strode over to where you were sat, immediately grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a rough kiss. He pressed his body so close to yours, you could feel his length press up against your core. The temptation was too irresistible, and the kiss was broken when you began to rub your clit against his clothed cock. You both moaned, though his was a little louder than yours. He buried his face in your neck and kissed a sensitive spot, humping against your pussy a little more desperately than he intended. His hand found its way to your hair and tugged, showing you his fullest intent to be as rough as he possibly could be with you. He wanted you to know what kind of things he enjoyed, knowing you enjoyed them to. "Do you think you're ready for me, baby?" He asked breathlessly.

You couldn't reply, all you could do was nod your head and hope it was enough.

It wasn't. Namjoon told you, "You need to use your words."

"Yes." You replied.

"Good girl. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

There was no foreplay involved, both Namjoon and you knew it wasn't necessary. You liked it when it hurt. So he simply pulled himself out of his trousers and entered you, staring directly into your eyes and watch them flicker with a plethora of emotions: pain, lust, pleasure. Your breath was taken away from you the moment you felt his head breach your walls. He was much, much bigger than you anticipated, and it hurt a little more too, but it didn't deter you, nonetheless.

Namjoon wanted to make the pain not so prominent to begin with, wanted to allow you the opportunity to get used to him and his size before he completely wrecked your insides. However, you had other plans. Your own hand went up to his hair, tugging at his roots. You smiled, and with a low voice you said, "Is that all you got?"

Upon hearing your words, he uttered, "You asked for it." And began to treat you exactly how you wanted. Clearly you wanted it rougher, and harder. Clearly you wanted to be treated like nothing more than a cheap whore. He'd seen the things you got off to, looked at your browsing history when you weren't home. He knew you were nothing more than a filthy slut, who enjoyed being used, and broken, and passed around. Though he didn't want his first time with you to be overshadowed by the darkest of your kinks, it seemed to be the only way to get you off. So, he was going to make this hurt in the best ways.

His hand returned to your throat again, squeezing a lot harder than he should have. His free hand came up to your face, and slapped it so hard it made you slightly dizzy. Then he slammed into you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wasted no more time, pulling out and crashing back inside. Over and over again. You were silent at first and had Namjoon been in a different mindset he would have been concerned. But you'd unleashed something neither of you knew existed, and now all Namjoon was concerned about was his own pleasure.

"This is all you're good for, isn't it?" Namjoon asked. His voice was breathy and husky. "Nothing but a place for me to put my dick."

You tightened in response to his words, letting out an extremely loud moan at one rough thrust.

"Whoring yourself out to the first man who takes care of you." He tsked. "Shameful bitch!"

Tighter.

"I bet you thought you were safe with me, didn't you? Fuck." You felt so good. So tight. Getting tighter and he couldn't help himself. "I bet you thought I wouldn't do anything to you. Didn't you?" Namjoon grew impatient at your lack of verbal response, and slapped your face again. "Didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Dumb bitch." His pace picked up. He had you trapped in between the cupboard and his solid body. "You begged me for this last night, don't you remember?" He moaned loudly. "Had me so hard. I could have fucked you then. Do you know what I did instead?"

Your pussy got tighter in anticipation. He allowed your hand to snake down and play with your clit.

"I jerked off over you. Came all over this pretty face of yours."

"Shit!" The speed of your fingers picked up. Your head banged gently into the cupboard door every time he entered you.

"Should have taken a video. Showed you what I did to you. You'd wanna see it, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, Namjoon! I-"

You came. You came so hard all over his cock that you stopped breathing. Your mind was filled with the images he'd put in there, the whole idea that this seemingly sweet and charming man could do something so vile. You should have been disgusted. You should have felt frightened, but instead you squirted so hard, you forced him out of you and ruined his clothes with your juices.

Namjoon didn't allow you to recover, though. Instead, he pulled you off the counter, turned you around, and forced you to bend over. "Take you from behind. Remind you what a filthy goddamn animal you are." Entering you again, he picked up his pace. "Give me that cunt." His hands were roughly grabbing at your hips, giving him the leverage to rail you as hard as possible. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and he was moaning and grunting so loudly. The sound of him was getting you more turned on than ever. You'd never been with a man as vocal as Namjoon, as willing to talk dirty and just let you hear how much he was enjoying your body. The verbal confirmation was enough to drive you insane.

"N-Namjoon, did you – fuck – did you touch me?"

"When?"

"Last night wh-when you jerked off."

"No." Why did you feel disappointed? "Did you want me to?"

"Yes!" God, your cunt was responding so well to this. It loved these details, this whole scenario. It was so greedy, practically begging for more. You weren't even sure if you could have more.

"Tell me, slut. What did you want me to do to you?"

Now it was Namjoon's turn to become putty. "W-wanted you to touch me. Touch my clit. Lick it. Oh fuck! Namjoon, right there! Please don't stop! Please!"

"What else, bitch?"

"F-force me to cum! Make me take your cock! W-wanna wake up to you using me."

"Yeah? You wanna be my fucking flesh-light, don't you? You're disgusting. Turn you into my breeding bitch, what do you think?"

"Yes! God, yes! Breed me, please!"

"Keep you tied to the bed and stuffed full of my cum."

"T-tell your friends I'm there, they c-can use me too!"

Namjoon wrapped his forearm around your neck and pulled you up to him, choking you for real this time. Breathing had become painful and even more difficult with him still forcing his cock inside of you. "No!" He said loudly. "You're mine! You belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" You choked out.

Namjoon released his grip on you, and you fell forward gasping for air. "Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Dumb slut. You're mine. You're my property now. To use and fuck whenever I want. No one else can have this cunt, do you understand me?"

"I understand!"

"God I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill you up so good. Knock you up. Show everyone who you belong to."

"Please cum inside me! Cum inside your filthy cunt, sir."

"Touch yourself. Make yourself cum again."

"I can't."

He grabbed hold of your hair and tugged. "You can and you fucking will."

You did as you were told. Your pussy was so oversensitive that any touch was kind of painful. But it felt so delicious. Once you started rubbing your clit, despite the ache, you couldn't stop. You had truly lost your mind to Namjoon, allowed him to take over your entire consciousness. You were just his obeying toy. His personal plaything. You heard him grunt loudly behind you, his voice turning into a predatory growl, before feeling him fill you up with his cum. The growl did something new to you; the shock of it making you hit your second orgasm. Then... darkness.

You woke up in your bed, covered up completely by your duvet and surrounded by nothing but warmth. You don't remember how you got there but moving had proven to be too difficult for you. Your pussy throbbed unbearably, reminding you of what took place in your kitchen. You wanted it again though. Oh, you loved that side of Namjoon.

He was underneath you, your head on his chest and both of his arms wrapped around you holding you impossibly close to him. He was asleep, but your squirming had made him wake a little, grumbling something when you moved your head to look at his face. Sleepy, dragon eyes looked back at you, with a small grin accompanying them. "Hi." You whispered.

"Hi."

You paused. "Namjoon, did you really touch yourself over me last night?"

Namjoon replied immediately, "No. Sorry, I said that in the heat of the moment."

"Oh, no. It's okay. I liked it."

"You did?" Namjoon could tell that you wanted to say something, but you were hesitant to. "What is it, my love?"

"If you did want to... you know... touch me while I slept or even do more things to me, that would be okay."

Namjoon smiled. "Do more things?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I don't know, you're going to have to use your words." You buried your face in his chest. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?"

"It's awkward."

"What things did you want me to do?"

"You can fuck me if I'm asleep if you wanted to. I love the idea of being used whenever and wherever."

"Yeah? You really want to be my own toy?"

You nodded.

"You're so cute." He told you, gently booping your nose.

Things were good between the two of you for a while. He would come to your house every day and you'd both be tangled up in the sheets, sometimes going multiple rounds. You couldn't get enough of each other. The only bump in the road you hit was when he found out about your side-hustle: your sex work. You had been posting yourself online for a while to make up for the money you lost at the bakery and had found yourself a few clients. One in particular, "Daddy", you'd speak to on a regular basis. You didn't know her real name, but you knew a lot about her and her life. She was a long, blonde-haired businesswoman who was a closet lesbian and a mother to two children. Both of whom were in upper middle and high school. She would pay you hundreds, if not thousands per session, sometimes through bank transfers, other times through fun toys and clothes through the mail.

Namjoon had known about Daddy for a while, of course, but he hadn't made that fact known to you. He wanted to wait for the opportune moment when it would feel organic and not as though he were watching you through several cameras at any given moment. On his way to your house, he checked the cameras as he usually did, expecting to find you getting ready for their date that night, but instead he found himself watching you figure out how to tie yourself up using beginner's bondage equipment. He also could make out something pink inside you, but the picture was too small for him to be able to see for certain what it was. Though, he felt he could assume it was a vibrator of some kind. He connected his headphones to his phone to allow the full experience. He was annoyed that you were still doing this, but he was going to enjoy it as much as he could while he could.

You were grunting and groaning from the pressure you were putting on your body, contorting in random shapes to fit your limbs into the fabric cuffs. Now, lay on your back, propped up against your pillows with your legs wide open, your attention was drawn to Daddy on the phone. "Are you ready, Princess?" Daddy asked you in a sweet tone.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. We're going to start gently, okay?"

The sound of the toy was almost non-existent. Through the headphones, Namjoon couldn't hear anything at all underneath your soft sighs and gentle whines. You had begun squirming already. How were you all tied up and still adorable? You could barely cope with the pleasure that you were being given at any time, always trying to squirm away from it whenever you could.

Namjoon scrunched his face in disgust when Daddy spoke again. "How's that, Princess?"

Breathlessly, you responded, "F-feels good already." All the blood drained from his head and went straight to his cock at the sound of your voice, fucked out already and you hadn't even begun your session. He could feel himself chubbing up, watching you writhe and chase your pleasure.

"I wonder what happens when we do this..."

You thrashed a little more violently on the bed after Daddy had finished speaking. She had turned the vibrator up significantly given your reaction.

"It's too much!" You cried. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"Ah!" The vibrator went up a little more. You were trembling so much. Namjoon knew how it felt to be above you when you shook like that. He strained against his zipper. It was too uncomfortable. All the while, you screamed, "Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"There?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy!"

Fuck. Hearing the word on your lips did something to Namjoon. He had never been interested in that kink before, but you were changing him. You were making him more perverted than he had ever been. It sounded so sweet, so sexy coming from your lips. Any other woman would have made him cringe.

"Do you want to cum, Princess?"

"I do. I wanna cum, Daddy. Can I cum?"

"Cum for me."

And so you did. Your back arched and your legs moved inward attempting to close and clamp around the vibrator, but the restraints held you back. You went silent for a moment as the initial shock of the orgasm hit you, but once you regained your breath, you were loudly moaning. Usually, you would push Namjoon away a little as a sign you needed a few seconds to regain the mental capacity to continue, but Daddy wasn't in the room, and you couldn't remove the vibrator yourself. The pleasure you were feeling began to dance the line between unbearable pain and overwhelming gratification. And watching your reaction to this... torture, Namjoon had to rub his cock over his pants as discreetly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. He couldn't be arrested for public indecency as he watched his girlfriend being virtually fucked by her sugar-mommy.

By the time Namjoon arrived at your house, you were on your fourth orgasm of the night. He snuck in and put his phone away when he peeked into the bedroom to watch the live version. You were so much more ethereal this way: covered in sweat, panting hard, tears running down your cheeks. You were absolutely fucked out, but Daddy hadn't finished with you yet. Your fifth orgasm hit just moments after. You had no idea that Namjoon was in your house, or even standing in your bedroom door. Your eyes were shut tight and your mouth was open in a silent scream.

Fifth.

Namjoon unbuttoned his jeans and started touching himself at the sight of you. Debauched and destroyed at the hands of another person. God, he couldn't wait to do this to you.

The sixth orgasm was your final one. Daddy made some excuse after turning the vibrator off and left abruptly, not bothering with aftercare or making sure you got out of your harness okay. That made Namjoon mad, but at least he was here to take care of you. To look after his most precious prize after she was cruelly abandoned by someone she shouldn't even be talking to. But that was okay. You'd come to your senses eventually. You'd see how wonderfully he treated you compared to others. He, of course, couldn't let what transpired in front of him pass by without a punishment.

The noise of him adjusting himself and shifting his weight caused you to look over in his direction, a look of panic on your face until you realised it was him. And then you realised. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

"Since orgasm number four."

"Namjoon, please! I can explain. Just untie me and we can talk."

Namjoon sat on the side of the bed. "Talk? About how I just watched my girlfriend get dominated by another woman?"

"No, please. It's not what it looks like. She pays me. Please, untie me. We can talk about this."

You looked so desperate and vulnerable, lying there watching him coming towards you. Stalking his prey before he was about to attack. He put his index finger on your clit and began to put pressure on it, pushing you into oversensitivity and making you scream. "So, you really are a whore, aren't you? I couldn't believe it. My sweet, beautiful girlfriend loves being called one, she couldn't actually be one, could she? But here you are," he added more pressure, "offering this tight little cunt up to the highest bidder." He leant over you, biting your ear as two fingers pulled out the toy. "You like it when people use you for their own pleasure, don't you? If I used you now, how much would you charge me, hm?" He spanked your pussy. "How many other cocks have been in this filthy pussy?"

"Please." You whimpered.

Namjoon imitated your voice. "Please." He laughed, almost maniacally. It scared you. But the more insane he seemed, the longer he toyed with your sensitive core, the more turned on you felt.

Suddenly, his hand left your vulva and gripped on tightly to your cheeks. He bent over you, dropping his mouth to your ear and mumbling, "I'm going to fuck you, little slut." His free hand reached down to his cock and freed it from his jeans and underwear. He moved on top of you, trapping your legs to the bed underneath him. It was evident to you now that your comfort never crossed his mind. It shouldn't turn you on. The idea of being nothing more than his cum receptacle should repulse you. But despite the discomfort your body was in, your mind and heat were fully ablaze with arousal. He lined himself up and pressed the tip to your waiting core. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to lie there and take it."

Without any other warnings, he slammed into you, causing you to cry out. The headboard shook violently with each thrust, reminding you that you were insignificant right now. All of his weight was on top of you, nearly smothering you. You had no choice to lie there and take it. You couldn't fight him even if you tried. Part of you wanted to. Part of you wanted to see how vicious he'd get if you pretended to resist. When he was so animalistic in the way he was taking you. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew. But, God, you loved how he was abusing you. The noises you were making, you hardly recognised yourself. While Namjoon had devolved into a primal state, you, too, weren't far off. Howling at the top of your lungs every time he slammed into you. "You vile fucking bitch. You fucking love it, don't you?" His words were venomous.

"More."

"You're fucking shameless, aren't you? Fuck. How many men have fucked your tramp pussy, hm? How many women have watched you play with yourself for money? I bet the whole city watches you, and gets off to you whoring yourself out." His fingers dug into your flesh the harder he fucked you. In his head, he could see a line of men queuing outside your bedroom door, lining up to bury themself inside you, throwing money at you when they'd finished. There would be copious amounts of cum all over you, inside you, staining your bedsheets. There'd be bills strewn about the place. He imagined someone rolling up a bill and putting it inside you while you lay on your bed still tied up. Sometimes he'd see you taking multiple cocks at the same time. He hated the idea of other men touching you but watching them do unspeakable things to your whore body forced a visceral, almost primal reaction out of him.

In that moment, you were no longer human to him. His brain didn't register that you could feel things, that you could even speak. Somehow, he had the ability to get rougher with you; hands holding your flesh tighter, cock violating your cunt, you tied up and powerless beneath him, unable to stop it or save yourself from this violent onslaught.

Your orgasm was building. Your breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Your vision becoming blurry.

"Shit! Now look at you. Falling apart on my dick after showing yourself off to someone else. You can't get enough can you?"

His sweat was dripping from his face onto yours, his teeth grazed your perfect skin almost threateningly. His breath was ragged, tired. It seemed as if he couldn't breathe either.

"Sir," you breathed, "cumming." That was the only word you were able to say before you reached your peak, tightening painfully around his cock. This orgasm was bordering on painful, and you tried to get away; fight for a bit of respite before he continued. But as his whole weight was on top of you, you were truly trapped and fully at his mercy.

Namjoon took a second to look up at your face, flushed and perfect. A peaceful expression on your face, though. You'd passed out. Your exhausted body had gone limp while you attempted to regain some strength. And something else in Namjoon came back. You were unable to stop him before, there was nothing to stop him now. "I can't wait to look back on this, Princess." He told you.

He took this opportunity to quickly untie the useless restraints you wore, and flipped you onto your stomach. With you in the prime position for it, he was tempted to take your ass. Force his way inside and make that hole his too. But, somehow, he resisted the urge. He slid back into your wetness and continued his ministrations, speedily approaching his own release. He was going to cum so hard this time. He could feel the strength building, and building.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

With a shout, he collapsed onto your back, emptying himself into you. His orgasm felt never-ending. Breathing was difficult. He wasn't even sure if he had the energy to pull out. He had to, though. He had to clean you up and take care of you. He felt gross upon reflecting on the words he uttered to you. The atrocities he uttered were unspeakable, yet he spoke them. And you came for him while he did. Regardless, guilt was beginning to set in for the first time in this relationship.

When you came to, you immediately felt heavily ghough. Hollow, numb. Not feeling Namjoon's touch immediately when you woke up sent you spiralling from a sub drop you'd never experienced before, overwhelmed and panicking. That was when Namjoon came into the room.

"Hey, hey." He said softly. "None of that, Baby. Come here." He set down the items in his hands on your bedside table and scooped you up into a hug. You had never felt more vulnerable than right now, crying into his bare shoulder when you were almost entirely naked. If it weren't for the sheet covering you, you'd be exposed to him completely.

"I'm s-sorry f-for not t-telling you about-" The attempt to apologise for lying to him was ruined by your sobs. But Namjoon just rocked and shushed you.

"I'm here, Baby. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay."

"I-"

"Don't talk. Just cry. I was too vicious to you wasn't, I? You're not any of those things. I love you so much." He kissed your cheek. "You're so kind..." he kissed your forehead. "And beautiful..." he kissed your other cheek. "And you are my entire world." He kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel him. "And I love you." He pulled away from you briefly. "What did I just tell you?"

"That you l-love me."

"Good girl. Precious girl."

Though he was a little further away from you now, he still had his hand on your body, making sure that you could physically feel him at all times. He reached over and handed you the glass of water that he brought in. "Tiny sips, Baby." You obeyed, earning you praise to warm your heart. With every sip of water you took, you could feel yourself becoming calmer and calmer until all you felt was exhaustion. He had also handed you your favourite chocolate bar and told you to eat it in front of him, to get some of your sugar back up. He promised you pizza for later, and beckoned you to rest your head on his chest. As you snuggled into his body, you felt his finger tips brush up and down your spine, relaxing you and making you drift off to a deep and exhausted sleep.

Weeks later, on Namjoon's birthday, you made a somewhat disturbing discovery. You had only been to Namjoon's house a few times since you two began dating, given that most of your meetings were either out in the world or at your home. You were unsure why that was, but never thought anything of it. There were hundreds of innocent reasons as to why a person may not want to spend time in their own home, and if Namjoon wasn't ready to share his secrets with you, then who were you to force him? All in due course.

You, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, had booked the day off work to surprise him and celebrate his birthday with him when he returned. You hadn't meant to go snooping, honestly. It's just, you wanted to check on the arrival of the bespoke cake you'd ordered to his house. Your phone wasn't being helpful – stupid mobile sites – so you decided to do the next logical step and borrow his laptop. If you cleared the browsing history and site cookies, he'd be none the wiser. It would be fine.

Though, all your good feelings left when you opened his laptop (which didn't have a passcode on it) and saw that he'd left his last application open. Upon an automatic refresh, your mouth widened in shock and horror to find yourself looking into your own house. Multiple cameras installed at varying angles to capture the entirety of every single room. Live feeds with a constant recording so they could be viewed on demand, cut into various clips whenever something interesting happened. There were few videos of you doing mundane tasks. But most of the videos you saw showed you in your most intimate positions, either being fucked by Namjoon or touching yourself. Or on the phone to Daddy.

One by one, you scrolled through these videos, watching the scenes unfold. These dated back to the beginning of your relationship. You watched the videos when Namjoon fucked you and felt yourself get wet. One of the more recent videos being when he punished you for playing with Daddy. You remembered that night so vividly, it often became masturbation material when Namjoon wasn't around. To be able to watch it happen as though you were a stranger was more of a turn on than you'd anticipated. But then you saw videos you knew you weren't meant to see.

Namjoon let himself into your house frequently, especially at the beginning. And sometimes he'd still be in your apartment when you came home. You watched him hide in your closet, and some of the angles showed him stroking himself. You watched him sniff and lick your panties, cum over them and other things around your house, including the dildos you kept in the living room and the rim of your favourite mug where your lipstick stains were.

Way back in the beginning of the relationship, you found it peculiar that Namjoon would contact you while you were in the middle of playing with yourself. Sometimes, you'd be bouncing on the dildos in your living room and he'd call you. You thought it was an odd coincidence, nothing more, but now you knew the truth. He'd been watching you for months, stroking his cock to these secret videos of you and calling you to see if he could hear your moans. Your pussy throbbed at the thought.

You felt disgusted with yourself. The man you loved and trusted above all others had violated you. He filmed you without your knowledge or consent, broke into your home to defile your things, and watched you in your most private moments. You should be angry with him. You should hate him. Report him to the police at the very least. He wasn't sane – or normal. No ordinary person would do something like this. But your hand was now working over your clit, rubbing yourself while watching the evidence. Bucking your hips and stifling your moans as you watched yourself on screen, watched how your body responded to the pervert and listened to yourself wail for him. Watched him masturbate over your sleeping body. Listened to his horrific words.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

You wished you were awake to have heard that. You wished he'd said it in your ear while you were cognitive and present. Hearing that one word had your cunt clench and your fingers involuntarily work faster and harder. If you heard it from him, it would have hurtled you into another orgasm just like it had when hearing it through his laptop speakers, cumming all over your fingers and dripping on his dining room chair.

When you'd come back to your senses, you sat there for a little while contemplating what had just happened, and what steps you should take next. The logical side of you was very much screaming at you to run as fast as you could to the other side of the world and never tell him where you'd gone. Or at least to the police station to report him for the crimes he'd committed against you. The darker side of you, however, was almost begging you to mess with him. You could have so much fun now that you knew what he was doing. You struggled with the internal fight for the rest of the night, even when Namjoon was deep inside you, none-the-wiser that you knew his dirty little secret. While he was being gentle with you, making love to you, all you could hear was how he sounded when he told you he'd brutalise. The image of him choking you and ruining you had you cumming so hard for him. And he had no idea that you knew.

You avoided Namjoon for a few days after that, and it drove him insane. He wasn't used to going no-contact with you, or even not seeing you for more than eight hours at a time. When you told him that you needed to stop and think about things his imagination went into overdrive. He was glued to his computer screen during that time watching to see if anyone else entered your house, or if you were spreading your legs for another person. He didn't know what he would do if you were having an affair with someone else. But to add to his confusion, you saw no one. Not your best friend, not your family... you didn't even go to work. And he was worried you were spreading your legs for someone else, but you didn't even do it for yourself. That was when he knew something was wrong. He once joked that you masturbating was like a golden retriever eating; if it didn't happen then there was truly a problem.

After five days of hearing nothing from you, he finally received a text. He leapt at his phone when he realised it was you, and answered immediately. Responding to your invitation to come to your house. He was in a taxi faster than he ever had been before, and was at your house within 20 minutes.

You greeted him at the door, in an oversized t-shirt and bicycle shorts, his favourite outfit combination. The shorts always hugged your curves so perfectly, and the oversized t-shirt hung off your breasts. You looked delectable... but also insanely stressed.

You didn't say anything to him, just took him to your living room and sat down on the couch. He sat on the couch next to you, and didn't say a word until the silence was unbearable. This was it; you were going to break up with him, he knew it. "Are you okay, Baby?" He asked.

Instead of answering, you pulled out your phone and pressed something on your screen. You made sure the volume was up to its loudest setting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled his ears, as did his grunts and moans as it became obvious what he was listening to.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

At least he has the decency to look horrified, you thought sadistically. Your face didn't show it, he didn't know it, but watching him squirm and panic was doing things to you. Your dominant, perverted boyfriend was now terrified and putty in your hands. The power had shifted, and it belonged entirely to you.

"You recorded us?" He asked quietly.

"Do you want to tell me why there are cameras all over my house, Namjoon?"

His eyes widened even more. "Wait, Baby, please! I can explain." He launched himself off the sofa and got on his knees in front of you, forcing you to look down on him. He looked pathetic, begging for your forgiveness, holding your thighs and anxiously waiting for your forgiveness. He told you everything from the very beginning about the robbery and the reason why he would so often break into your house, right to the cumming in your panties and watching you touch yourself every day. You could feel your shorts getting wetter and wetter at the vulnerability he was displaying. "How can I make this right, ____? I'll do anything."

The magic words. "Anything?"

"Name it."

"You're going to need to apologise."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so so-"

"Not with your words." You lifted your hips and removed your shorts, revealing your dripping cunt to him. The cold air hit you and you could feel your clit tingling in anticipation, knowing that what was to come next was going to be the best night of your life. You spread your legs wider, giving him enough space. "But you can still use that nasty little mouth of yours."

He wasted no time, immediately throwing himself forward and lapping up your wetness, tongue moving desperately to try and make you feel good and keep him close. He sucked and licked on your clit fervently, and as hard as you tried to remain quiet, occasionally fervent moans would escape and tell him that he was doing good. You put your hand on his head and tugged at his hair.

"I wanted to make you suffer." You told him while he was still between your thighs. "Wanted to hurt you." You moaned and began bucking your hips. "Oh, fuck! That's it! Haven't touched myself in days because I knew you'd be watching. Couldn't let you feel good after the shit you pulled.

"Did you like watching me, Joonie?" Your tone changed, you began to taunt him. You pulled his head away by his hair. He tried to fight you, tried to get back to your cunt and finish what he started, but your grip stopped him. "Did you like watching me fuck myself and not know you were there?"

You peered down to his trousers to see his cock hard and ready to go and you laughed. "Kneel back." He did what you asked and unknowingly gave you access to him. You immediately stretched your leg and put your foot on his dick, pressing gently at first. You laughed at him when he let out a small moan, finally being granted a modicum of friction. "You know, if you'd have asked, I would have let you put the cameras up. I would have even put on a bigger show for you. I would have moaned louder, called your name, bent over and showed you my precious cunt. I would have given you all the material you could have ever wanted."

You applied more pressure to his dick, pushing down a lot harder and this time earning a groan of pain. "But you went behind my back like the fucking pervert you are. You watched me fuck myself in this very room and let me believe that I was alone. I always thought it was weird how you knew the things I was into. Turns out you've been letting yourself into my house and violating me in all aspects."

"Please."

"Please what? What are you begging for, perv?" You removed your foot from his cock and leant forward, roughly pulling his hair by the roots and making him look into your eyes. "You are not to touch yourself. You're going to make me cum in five minutes. If you don't, I'm going to walk out that door and you're never going to see me again. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

You leant back one more time and spread your legs again. You picked up your phone and started the timer. "Go."

He moved in pure desperation, there was no other way to describe it. Immediately, his mouth was attached to your clit, sucking harshly and quickly. He was fighting with your body and pulling out all the things he knew that drove you mad. Now there were high stakes. You were going to leave him if he couldn't perform the most basic of tasks. He immediately plunged two fingers inside you and began to roughly use them, hitting that soft spot and making you scream out in pure pleasure. You always loved his fingers inside you, he knew that. You told him he had beautiful hands and loved feeling them fucking your cunt, loved how deep they got, and how quickly they could move.

You didn't bother to hold back your moans. You were so loud for him. He loved it when you were loud. Perhaps you were being loud to torture him. He couldn't touch himself to your moans, so he could only listen to how good he was making you feel. And he was making you feel incredible. Your hips were wantonly moving on their own, and your hands were pushing his head further into your cunt. His fingers were picking up their pace. At this point, you were all but screaming.

He could feel you tightening. You were so close to cumming. He stole a glance at your discarded phone. Twenty seconds remained. He began to work harder, faster. His tongue ached from the constant use, and his hand was cramping up but you were so close.

Twelve seconds.

"Fuck! Namjoon! Just like that!"

Nine.

Eight.

"Oh my fucking God, Namjoon!"

Five.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Three.

The sound you made was guttural and animalistic. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened. "Fuck!" You came on his fingers as the timer went off. This wasn't a sweet and delicate orgasm like you'd usually get from his tongue, this was violent and powerful. The wind was knocked out of you and you squirted all over his face and your sofa, soaking the fabric of his t-shirt. He only pulled himself away from you when you made him. You were so exhausted you couldn't even turn off the timer, he had to do it for you. You were breathing heavily, eyes droopy from sleep. But you weren't finished yet.

"Strip." You ordered him. He obeyed. "Sit on the sofa."

Once he was settled on the sofa, you straddled him, feeling him bare beneath you. He hadn't fought you once, allowing you to take complete control of him, submitting to you as you usually do to him. He was so red and hard, and very pliant. His eyes never left your face, even when he felt your hand on his cock and lined him up. Saying nothing, you sat, feeling him fill up your empty walls quickly. It had only been a few days without him, but when the two of you fucked like rabbits, it felt like forever. He clearly felt so, too, judging by the moan he just let out.

He said your name and put his hands on your waist, looking down at where you two were joined. But giving him autonomy was not something you had planned. You grabbed hold of his wrists and pinned them by his head, against the back of the sofa. You put all your weight into your hands as you bounced on his cock, not giving him the room to move. He could probably completely overpower you and there was even a small part of you that wanted him to. But the power trip you were on right now, the way it felt to have a big, strong man entirely at your mercy had you even wetter than usual. Except for the grunts that Namjoon would let out, or the moans you would, the sound your cunt made as it swallowed Namjoon was so loud, and such a turn on.

Namjoon still wanted more, though. It was torture to see your breasts bounce from underneath your t-shirt. Usually when you rode him, he liked it if you were completely bare so he had total access to your body. But your t-shirt was blocking his view. Despite that, your nipples were still so hard and visible through the fabric, he couldn't help himself. He reached forward and took one into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Harder!" You told him. Your nipples were so sensitive, especially when you had the t-shirt on to rub against them. Namjoon's teeth clamped a little harder, causing you to moan out and pick up the pace. A big part of you regretted pinning him down with your hands - your clit was aching again, and needed to be played with.

"You know," you began breathlessly, "you always called me a slut, but now you're acting like this." You bent down and bit his neck, earning another groan. "You're so useless right now, aren't you? Can't even fuck me with this big useless cock. Even now you're so hard. Such a fucking pervert, aren't you?" When he didn't respond, you bit his neck harder. "Aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Hmmm... not good enough." You stopped moving. "I want you to say it."

"I'm a pervert." He responded immediately.

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, forcing a scream out of him. "Louder!"

"I'm a pervert!"

You laughed. "Look into the camera and say it."

The realisation dawned on him, the cameras were still rolling. There was now footage of him being dominated by you on both of your phones. A quick flicker in his mind appeared; what if you used this video against him? The scariest thought to him was that he didn't mind. He didn't care if you posted the video anywhere. In fact, he felt his cock get harder at the thought of people seeing him so weak for you. He looked directly into the lens, and opened his mouth. "I'm a pervert!"

You slammed back down on him again. But this time, you didn't stop.

"What did you do?"

"I - fuck - recorded my girlfriend without permission. You feel so fucking good, shit!"

"Did you watch them?"

He nodded.

"Which one did you watch the most?"

"When... when you were tied up... and I - fucking hell - fucked you so hard you passed out."

"Do you know what I watch?"

"No."

"I watch you touch yourself over me when I'm asleep."

"Fuck." His voice was barely a whisper.

"I watch you fuck your hand while sniffing my panties, acting like a desperate little slut that can't wait for his girlfriend's tight cunt he has to lick her underwear to get off."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"I want to cum."

"Where do you want to cum?"

"Inside."

"Inside me? You think your useless, filthy cock is good enough to cum inside me?"

"Please."

God, he sounded so desperate.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes!"

"Cum for me. Now."

His eyes lit up, he was so happy to finally be able to empty himself inside you. You watched his face for the telltale signs that he was right there. To help him, you sped up even more and moaned wantonly, being loud for him as he loved. He was so close.

"I'm gonna -"

As he began his release you sat up, pulling him from inside you and letting his cock flop onto his belly. "No!" He screamed. The cum that was supposed to be inside you now emptying out onto his stomach. Tears began to well in his eyes as his orgasm ebbed away quickly, leaving him messy, used, and unsatisfied. He looked at you, feeling a small pang of betrayal.

"Let this be a lesson to you," you told him, "the next time you want to do something fucked up, you ask me first. Understand?"

He wanted to say something but thought better of it. He nodded simply.

"Don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll let you cum then."

You released him and stood up.

"What's stopping me from taking what I want from you anyway?"

"I'll do this again."

He nodded in understanding.

"Come on, Baby," you held out your hand, "let's go take a shower."

Goddamn, as I was writing this the trigger warnings just kept piling up and piling up and it got darker and darker. This shit is extra horny lmao. I know I don't usually write as dark as this, and it took me ages to get this done but I just had this brain rotting idea and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoyed it! My commissions are open so if you want something similar but with a different member, let me know! I'm happy to keep up the darker themes.

[dailydegurechaff]

challenge: hollow knight bug tanya

vessel tanya

my thoughts got long. warning under the read more for Hollow Knight spoilers.

ok listen listen, while i have you i need to implant an idea here

This oversimplifies both character’s motivations and stories a bit but like. do you see what im cooking. the vibes are THERE

like. Being X wants to bring Salaryman to his lowest to see if that suffering will make him a believer. Salaryman's values revolve entirely around his autonomy & free will. so an au where being x reincarnates Salaryman/Tanya into Hallownest as a Vessel, a creature that is meant to have no agency and is generally very doomed

so we'd see HK AU!Tanya (Bugurechaff if you will) trying to survive in this new world, but also slowly learning the lore of this world and what's happened to it. and I think over time, as she discovers who the Radiance is/was, she'd probably realize the similarities between Radiance and Being X and go "Hey wait a damn minute." My thought is she'd have a classic Tanya Misunderstanding Moment and misconstrue the two of them as one entity. Whether this fills her with vengeful rage and she takes it upon herself to destroy the Radiance, thinking Rad is Being X, I'm not sure. I could potentially see it.

some other vague ideas

Tanya's whole shtick is that she wants to achieve a comfortable, safe life where she's free to do whatever she wants. I genuinely believe that after somehow escaping the Birthplace, fighting through the ruins of Hallownest, and eventually coming across the town of Dirtmouth, she'd gladly end her adventure there. Think about it. Dirtmouth is safe, nothing really substantial goes on up there. There's no point for her to go back into the depths if she can just live peacefully there without any problems. There is nothing to stop her from doing this. Like, does she need the Geo to buy a house? No point, the whole town is virtually abandoned, just pick a house and live in it. Elderbug actually says this about Iselda moving in.

I think the point I’m trying to get at here is that if the story will let her, Tanya would probably get complacent. Which means that we'd probably need to find a reason to force her to act if we want her story to go farther than just 'makes it to Dirtmouth, the end' Do you think she'd get bored eventually? What is there to do? As said previously, nothing really goes on there, and there are very few permanent residents.

One way I feel like Tanya could be pushed is in regards to her social motivations. Like. I feel like she needs to be seen as a respected, productive member of society in order to feel fulfilled. I don't think she could get that in Dirtmouth, so the question is: Is this desire enough to overcome her desire for safety?

I think motivating Tanya to get moving and back to exploring (and therefore learning about Hallownest & by extension the Radiance) could be more easily accomplished by giving her companions who drag her outside of her comfort zone. So like. Let's drag more YS characters into HK.

In my head I have the mental image of tiny little vessel Tanya rescuing some other travelers on her way to find a safe place to settle. These travelers being Bug!203rd Battalion (Visha, Weiss, Koenig, Neumann). And she just absolutely destroys whatever was endangering them. And they're so impressed by her they just end up following her like lost puppies.

And like. Vessels can't speak. So she can't just tell them to go away and leave her alone. So she has an entourage now, who at least can help her fight. They also probably tell her about Dirtmouth, and they travel as a group to bring her there.

Maybe after she makes it clear she'd like to live peacefully in Dirtmouth, they end up leaving her. Only to return later when she's gotten restless, new party member in tow (Grantz!), who she helps to train and such.

Also also, Vessels being unable to speak definitely creates problems for both Tanya and the narrative. It has the possibility for hilarity with the good old Tanya Misunderstandings that YS is so good for, but also it creates problems with getting her to interact with people. There would have to be a LOT of charades, characters conveniently bringing up information to her, or conveniently guessing what she's trying to get at, which i feel would be hard to do naturally.

You could perhaps solve this with her meeting someone who can teach her to write or sign? Like Lemm or Quirrel. I think it'd be cute to see Relic Seeker Assistant Tanya with Lemm for a little while. I doubt she'd have an interest in the relics, but he'd probably give her a lot of insight into Hallownest history.

the Type 95 is definitely a charm in this universe. In HK canon, we're told charms are created by a bug's dying wish or something to that effect, so my first thought was that it would be a charm made by HK AU!Schugel's death that Tanya ends up getting her hands on, and then Being X blesses it... But then we also see in HK canon that Leg Eater is able to make his own charms, albeit fragile/easily breakable ones.

so my concept is this: Bug!Schugel creates his own fragile charm. I'm thinking the effect would probably be something revolving around converting infection to usable Soul/Mana (akin to the canon Type 95's Mana fixation thing). So, wandering inventor Schugel, looking for an assistant comes across Dirtmouth! Vessel!Tanya, who's hanging around (probably bored out of her mind and desperately needing to do SOMETHING productive) sees this invention and think it might be useful for the world, happens to have nothing better to do, and gets roped into this. Naturally something goes wrong, and before it fails horribly and disastrously, Being X steps in and blesses the charm. This makes the effect work, but using it also causes the wearer to become more susceptible to mental corruption/infection.

Also, I think that it also needs to become permanently unequippable (Like Void Heart) so Tanya can't get rid of it. Also also, the charm needs to have some insane cheesy name after Being X alters it. Everlasting Blessing. Immortal Prayer. Idk. But it needs to be something Tanya would hate.

I think the Silver Wings Assault Badge could also be a charm. I'm not sure what it's effect might be, but maybe something like the monarch wings, but its powered by Soul. She's an aerial mage. She needs to fly. Also it needs a cheesy charm name too. Fluttering Soul. Wings of Argent. etc. you get what I'm going for.

The Pale King is described a lot as being pure white and gleaming. Vessels, as his offspring, do look a bit similar to him. I think somewhere within this concept, you could have Tanya gain the White Silver nickname based on her appearance. Her mask/head is pale white like PK and when she uses Soul she shines like silver? idk i think it could work. Someone (203rd member perhaps?) sees her fighting and bestows the nickname on her and it gets shortened to just Silver or something

(Before this, since Vessels cant speak so she can't tell anyone what to call her, she gets called "Little One" by Elderbug. She hates it.)

if you couldn't tell, i've thought about this a lot. i invite you all to think about it with me. if you have ideas. please. share them. especially if its about other YS characters and how to fit them into HK universe. also especially if its about how HK characters would interact with her. Is the Knight/Ghost running around in the AU? How do they feel meeting a fellow sibling like this? What about Hornet?

[vesper-tinus]

hello ! hope you're doing good and excited for xmas! :) could i request a first meeting between reader and koenig. with reader also being in the military? thank you

Hello! I'm doing good, thank you for asking, and I hope you're doing well too! The holidays are a lovely time of year, and I am always happy to see snow :)

Let's see what I can whip up for you! Fair warning, I do not remember much from my German lessons in school 😉 As always, thank you for requesting!

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. König x Reader

Summary: You're picked for a joint mission alongside KorTec, for what reason, you do not know. You don't like being kept in the dark, but you do like being in the company of a tall Austrian. Keywords: First meeting, reader is military and a sniper, a damn good one at that, reader's callsign is "Cipher". Wordcount: 1254

Translation Notes: "It was good working with you, let's stay in contact?"

You’re sitting in a truck bound for base. From there, you’ll take a helicopter to what can only be described as copious reports and questioning. You, alongside two others from your unit, were handpicked for a joint mission alongside KorTec. You'd received no explanation as to why you were operating with contractors, nor were you in any position to question it. It’s all been very off the grid from what you’ve been able to piece together.

König is leaning back in his seat, strong arms folded over his chest as he sits in stoic silence. Not that there was much to talk about—none of you in this vehicle are friends. The mission is over, accomplished, and no one wants to waste energy trying to talk over the loud volume of the engine.

Your attention, once more, falls to König (as it often has), and you’re suddenly reminded of something he said to you two days ago. Two days ago when you were squatting in a make-do sniper’s nest of your own making. Comms were silent. You were waiting. Trained eyes monitoring the area with a hawk’s precision, breath steady, scope steadier. 

“Cipher, how copy?”

Your earpiece buzzes to life with a subdued voice, almost calming in its softness. König, you think. King. 

“Solid copy. I’m eyes on. Whenever you’re ready,” you respond, voice unwavering as you trail the head of your target through the scope—one of them, anyway. You’ve been sitting in this nest for hours. Even just the possibility that you could finally get some action, spurs your heart to life. 

“Breacher up, König take point.” A third voice joins, one that you can pinpoint belongs to Zero. “Cipher, dispatch the guards and keep us updated on movement. We’re going in.”

“Understood. Bullet drop in three, two… one.” Your first target is down, and the second soon follows. You don’t need to watch the entrance to hear the door being kicked down. It’s not your business, anyway, you and your scope have other matters to attend to. You meticulously comb over the outside with an assassin’s precision, eventually letting another body join the first two. A fourth, a fifth. The ruckus from the door caused alertness, but thankfully, you’re an expert in clean-ups, and no actual alarm manages to sound. 

You have no eyes on the inside with the exception of the vague talking keeping you updated over comms. It’s one of the downsides of being appointed to sniper duty, but the fact that you’re outside alone means that your skills speak for themselves. They trust you. For now. 

“You could become a contractor for KorTac, Cipher.”  

You’re not certain what prompted this, but it has remained in your mind ever since. 

When you confronted him after the takeover, König seemed surprised that you managed to hear him amidst the chaos over comms. Nobody else did. What followed was a conversation that ranged from his fascination with your speciality—being a sniper—to his own attempt at becoming one, only to be denied. He asked about your experience in the military, and you compared notches on your weapons. The conversation carried on, and part of you wished the pickup would be delayed just so you could continue talking with him. He offered you a müsli bar, which you accepted, and he purposefully shielded you from the ceiling light when you wanted to rest your eyes. You hadn’t asked, but he did it anyway, and it made you feel appreciated. You got the impression that he was often dismissed by others. Either due to his height or his silent demeanour, but once you got him talking, he could talk even the best conversationalist in circles. That’s what it felt like. 

Your knee knocked against his thigh as you laughed at one of his jokes. You were sitting side by side. He’s funny. Time passed, and when pickup arrived, he offered you a hand to help you up. You smiled, eyes locked on him as you took his hand in your own. “Much appreciated, König.” You spoke your words slow and deliberately, his name rolling off your tongue with meaning. 

His eyes widened. 

As you’re pulled to your feet, König’s hand steadies you by the waist, large palm coming to grip your hip bone, and you seize the opportunity to heavily lean against him—testing the waters, so to speak. Your hand stretched open across his broad chest, and you hear him swallow a breath, eyes still wide, but his attention is solely focused on you. He’s not looking away.

The truck comes to an abrupt halt, and you’re shaken out of your memories. 

All good things must come to an end, you think as you all pile out of the vehicle. Most contractors scatter as soon as their boots hit the ground, and part of you finds it rude, but you’re too tired to be a good example. There’s really only one person you’re interested in saying farewells too, anyway. 

He seems to have the same ideas as you, cause he lingers near the exit of the truck, seemingly in no hurry to disappear like the rest of his team. Was he waiting for me? 

“König,” you say, attempting a light tone despite your exhaustion. 

You offer your hand for a shake, shoulders squared as you flash the man your best smile. While not a focus of your military duty, you’ve been trained to value diplomacy in missions requiring cooperation… Nevermind your personal interest in the soldier before you. 

König briefly glances at your hand, but you needn’t wait long before his larger palm grips yours in a firm shake. 

Right, you should say something. You’ve been practising for this. Sort of. The German dictionary you found discarded in one of the bunkers was not ideal, but you believe you have managed to form some sort of coherent sentence. It’ll be smooth, you think—you hope. You clear your throat.

“Es war sehr schön mit dir zusammen zu arbeiten, lass uns in Kontakt bleiben?"

A pregnant pause fills the air between you. 

Fuck.

You said it wrong. There’s no other explanation. Lord knows your accent was probably all over the place, not to mention the grammar itself. He probably speaks with an Austrian dialect, of course he does, which makes your bastardised German all the more silly to his ears. Great job.  

Your hands are still firmly locked together, your grip more feeble than König’s. He might as well be holding your hand hostage with how weak your hold is. A part of you is thankful he is holding you steady, but another part of you wants to slink into the helicopter, the sound of your clown shoes echoing behind you for all to hear. 

When you think all is lost, you feel him squeeze your hand. Not roughly, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leans down, just a tad—his tall body still towering over you—allowing you a better view of his eyes. Those expressive eyes of his are squinting pleasantly, almost mischievously. He is smiling, you know he is. It makes your heart skip a beat. 

“...it was cute that you tried.”

Doublefuck… you are so into this man.

A mild-mannered chuckle breaks your thoughts. It’s not a boisterous sound by any means, but it echoes in your ears anyway, rattling your skull. It’s a beautiful sound. Genuine. Personal. Just meant for the two of you. With your cheeks flushed, you await with bated breath. 

“Jo, eh. Let us stay in touch, Cipher.”

[dmitriene]

― love knot.

summary: after a long absence due to duty and numerous missions, he finally returned, but with a small surprise. content: domestic! könig x gn! reader tags: fluff, comfort, cheek kisses, established and domestic relationship. enjoy your reading) 🐾

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌«i watched a change in you / it's like you never had wings»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌   «now you feel so alive / i've watched you change»

The sun cast its golden hues through the windows, enveloping the room in an embrace of sunbeams and warm hues, you sat on the couch, your fingers dancing across the pages of a book, lost in a world of evenly typed words and letters.

Your thoughts often returned to König, who recently finally returned from an intense mission to your home, his absence left a void in your heart, a void that was about to be filled.

Minutes passed and you couldn't help but think about him, he went to the grocery store a few hours ago with a fleeting promise to be back soon, so you looked at your watch, your mind wandered and thought about what he could do for such a long time there, maybe perhaps he was carefully selecting the ingredients for some special dinner, or perhaps he was taking his time to enjoy the newfound peace of home, finally arriving in a familiar city after a long absence.

Time passed imperceptibly every minute under the quiet ticking of the wall clock, the aroma of hearty stew that had just boiled on the stove was carried through the air, testifying to your culinary skills, which you had previously vented into preparing a delicious dinner.

The soft hum of a song played softly in the background, its soothing melody perfectly complementing the running of your thoughts in your head, for a moment you even thought about calling him, but the expectation of his return eventually kept you from reaching for the phone, instead, you focused on your book, letting the lines take your head in a whirlwind of imagination.

As soon as you began to lose yourself in the charm of the book story, the front door creaked open, attracting your attention and instantly making your heart flutter as you caught your eye on the wide figure of Koenig who entered, which instantly filled the entire space with an aura of comfort.

A smile spread across your lips and you put the book aside, your curiosity piqued by the sight of the black fluffy ball in his hands which he hid in the fabric of his sniper hood for the obvious purpose of warming what he was holding, even forgetting his own comfort.

— «Welcome home!»

you greeted him tenderly, your voice is a gentle melody that seemed to dance, penetrating his ears, and you would have rushed into his arms long ago, if not for something unknown in his hands

— «What do you have there?»

König's eyes gleamed with mischief as he approached you, carefully cradling the mysterious bundle of a fluffy wad of dark fur.

— «I stumbled upon something on the way back» he responded and curled his lips into a playful smirk.

You leaned forward, your curiosity growing with his each step closer to you, until he showed the contents of his hands, which made your heart skip a beat, a tiny black kitten nestled in the safety of his strong arms, its fur was as dark as midnight the sky, his round, curious eyes staring at you as his little nose twitched in curiosity and trying to catch a scent.

— «Oh my god» you exhaled sharply, your heart literally melted from the charming sight of your big boyfriend and the delicate lump in his hands

— «Where did you find this cute little thing?»

König explained how he heard a faint meow coming from an alley near the store, where he ended up finding an abandoned kitten hidden in a cardboard box as an unnecessary toy, and a sharp sense of compassion for the unfortunate animal prompted him to bring a small ball of fur home, knowing that both of you can provide him with the care and love he so desperately needs.

You reached out and your fingers immediately touched the velvety fur of the kitten, he let out a soft purr, his tiny body vibrated with satisfaction and the warmth of your gentle touch

— «Aren't you a brave little thing)» you cooed as your heart filled with warmth and brought a soft smile to the corners of your lips.

König's gaze never left you, his admiration was visible in his eyes and from time to time he always looked at you like that, something in your undisguised kindness and tenderness incredibly attracted him and he was grateful to you for the fact that you met, because you gave him a sense of home and a chance for sincerity.

— «I thought we could give him a home, Mein Schatz, a place where he wouldn't be in danger»

He spoke with the utmost sincerity, and you would not even think of refusing him, not when he treated the small and fragile animal in his hands so carefully and carefully, while absolute tenderness and trepidation towards the kitten was read in his deep blue eyes.

— «Sure, König, let's give this little soldier a home, hm?»

Your tone of voice is gentle, a wave of gratitude and a certain pride swept over you, as soon as your eyes once again captured the view in front of you, your heart overflowed with love for the person standing in front of you before you stood up on your toes and gently kissed him on the bare skin of his cheek, giggling softly.

(...)

The hours melted away as you and Konig accepted this new chapter of your life which included a new family member, you introduced the kitten to his new home, watching with delight as he explored every nook and cranny of the apartment with boundless curiosity, his playful antics caused laughter in the room, a joyful symphony that resonates deep in the soul of each of you.

As the evening stretched its gentle arms around you as you sat among the soft cushions on the sofa, König's hand slowly found yours, weaving your fingers together, his touch seemed to you a soothing anchor and his voice was like a measured water surface, caressing your ear in a whisper.

— «Thank you for accepting it, Schatz»

You turned to him while everything inside of you was filled with tenderness every now and then, causing a slight smile and a small giggle on your lips, a spilling sound because of which you made him smile back.

— «Thank you for bringing us together, König» you quietly whispered in a voice filled with warmth and gratitude

With a shared smile, you settled on the couch while the kitten nestled comfortably between you, its gentle purring harmonized with the soft melodies that carried through the air, creating a cocoon of comfort and love, you carefully leaned into König's arms, laying your head on his shoulder, his presence brought you a sincere calmness that drove away any lingering worries.

As the night wore on, you exchanged stories about what you did apart from each other, petty nonsense and even fleeting promises, while in the midst of it all, a tiny black kitten nestled in your arms, a symbol of unexpected joys and random events that life has to offer to the two of you as long as you're around.

The warmth of his body next to you caused a smile and a slight relaxation in the body, you were incredibly glad that he was finally next to you and you were in his warm arms, knowing that in the near future he will definitely never leave and stay here.

And so, in the quiet embrace of your apartment under the flickering light of a warm lamp and the purring of a warm ball of fur, you found comfort and a new unexpected connection that connected you with König even more strongly.

Translate: Schatz - darling / Mein - my / Mein Schatz - my darling.

© dmitriene - my masterlist please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[puff0o0]

aaaaa!! König and pink reader 🩷🌟

☆ Hes so happy to be able to call you his own, you never fail to brighten his day with your smile or your style (holy shit that rhymed)

☆ If you wear makeup, he'll get you those hello kitty, hatsune miku, sailor moon or just star and heart themed ones!

☆ He bought you this strawberry themed blush, thinking you would like it, but the second you used the pallete the strawberries faded :(

☆ You still thanked him anyways (and eagerly begged him not to waste money on buying you another one..)

☆ He loves buying you lacey or frilly clothes! He also buys a lot of bows and pretty much any accessory you want

(you forced him to put you on a limit)

☆ If you're a civilian and you visit him, people around base- ESPECIALLY recruits- tend to be so surprised at how their cocky, stern, and intimidating colonel can turn so soft so fast

☆ König doesn't care how they see him with you, he's struck enough fear in them for them to know not to say a damn word about it

☆ His usual loud and intimidating voice when he orders people around is a little lowered so he isn't too loud around you

☆ Recruits love it when you visit because of this. They don't get yelled at as much and they don't have to worry about doing extra training if they mess up

☆ If you're a soldier yourself, people around base tend to be scared of you.

☆ So pink and bright, always nice and overall a sunshine, yet they saw you take out like 10 mean the other day and walk back like nothing happened??

☆ it doesn't help that when they look back at König to get his reaction all they see is a man in love

☆ If you're someone who adores plushies he gets you a lot of them. Don't look at one for too long in a store or else he'll buy it on spot.

☆ He's very, very observant

☆ He doesn't let any of his friends come over to his house. Why? Because you've completely pink-ified the house you two shared

(not that he minds but he won't ever admit that)

☆ You have so many pictures of him laying his head down on a plush, sound asleep because of how tired he was when he came home

(you made him some cookies and a nice cup of water)

☆ You also have so many pictures of him in a pink bathrobe. You begged for him to put it on just once (you never let him live it down)

[wishesforyou]

You and König had always been close, forming a friendship after bonding over silly stuff while you were on an evac.

He always made you laugh, his boisterous (and kind of manic..) laugh never failed to add to that

You would defend him with everything you had, especially after he opened up to you about his past.

You knew he had to have trusted you so much to open up to you about that, making your protection over him even worse.

You didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, you treated him like no other.

Sometimes

"I just don't understand how you can manage with him"

"Who?"

"The colonel. He's.. strange."

"..Oh. Well I find him nice to be around. He's quiet and loud at the right times and always manages to make me laugh. How is he strange?"

Yeah, you may have come on too strong.

But who could blame you?

The recruit was practically talking about a man who, childish or not, you have had a crush on for months now.

"My bad"

'Damn right it's your bad'

You thought, wanting to say it out loud but not wanting to cause any unnecessary tension.

So you thought of what to do and left, your thoughts pooling with anger on how cowardly they have to be to say it behind his back like that.

You hated it

You weren't going to vent to könig about the situation like you usually did when something upset you, not wanting to risk him getting upset over it

You knew he could take it, but you didn't want him to take it.

He took too much

But what you didn't know was that a certain colonel was just around the corner, hearing everything you said and the whole situation.

König had learned to not care what others had to say about him.

Growing up with insults and belittling all his life, it made him 'toughen' up, even if he didn't want to.

The only person in his life that kept him going and led him to where he was today was his mom, making sure he was cared for and showered with love as she knew he wasn't getting it at school.

He didn't even expect you to defend him when he heard the recruit, expecting you to agree or simply ignore it as most have done to him in his life

Yet, you got angry for him

You defended him

Something he was not used to

Just like how he wasn't used to hugging you like he was right now.

The second he got his hands on you, he pulled you into a hug without another word.

Anytime you tried to talk he quickly shushed you, just wanting to enjoy the silent moment between the two of you

He was never one to do physical touch with anyone he wasn't super close with, but you seemed to be getting closer and closer no matter how hard he tried to pull away

[tooswcctx]

closed: @ncrthernaura ( Olivia Koenig & Trevin Ackler ) continued from: x

"Is he? Is he really on your dick right now? 'Cause that's all the proof I need that ghosts exist." Liv teased, trying to lighten the mood. Hockey wasn't that important to her, most sports weren't, but it was important to him so she had to at least pretend to care. "Look, I don't know what to tell you about the whole ice thing and getting shut out but maybe what you need to get your head back in the game is getting absolutely scared shitless or...I don't know, letting loose with an on-again-off-again situationship. Who knows? Might as well try." Olivia smirked, smile widening as he agreed. "Really? Yes, thank you, thank you. I know everyone's gonna love having you on the episode."

[captain-mj]

Okay okay okay, now that you have ventured into the territory of Ghost x König I finally have to find the courage to send you a request. I need more of this ship.

I don't have many specifics, enemies to lovers is always great, but Monster (any type, werewolf/bear, your avian soldiers, other unique folklore related creatures etc.) König and Handler Ghost? A combination/variation of the two? Ooooh, in general I am in love with your fantasy AUs. So whatever strikes your inspiration, if you have a completely different idea that comes up in regards to this ship I will probably eat it up, so feel free to venture away from the ideas provided.

If you do this I will kiss- oh wait I heard threats are the social norm in this ask box so uhm... yes... if you do this I will refrain from stealing your teeth. Yes, yes.

Werebear Koenig werebear Koenig werebear Koenig. I got you. Enemies to lovers? No problem! Also Ghost is a werewolf :)

I rewrote this six times before i liked it so pls... let me keep my teeth... I know it's short but I'll make a part 2 or something 😭

Ghost considered himself a selfish person generally. He also genuinely did not believe he was a good person. But with König, he tried to be better. König was polite and skilled, he saw no reason to be mean to him. They were only paired up because Ghost could overpower König, a feat not many people on base could boast. More accurately, no one but Ghost could boast. König was paired to him because Ghost didn't need a handler in the typical sense. It meant König didn't have to worry about it. He was new from KorTac, still adjusting to this. They both hated each other.

Ghost wasn't even sure he knew why. Neither had "punished" the other. They shared section of the base, a room, bathroom and hallway due to Ghost being a lieutenant and requesting the privacy, but they had quickly found rules that meant they never, ever saw each other unmasked unless it was on purpose. It meant they avoided each other pretty much constantly as a bonus.

Occasionally, when they did happen to be in the same area at the same time, it was a fragile truce. Their ranks were ignored and so was their work. Instead, they just continued doing what they were doing in as non awkward of a silence as they could manage.

But König slipped up. During a mission, he had shifted without being told and the wrong people got hurt. Luckily, the friendly fire was mostly just hurt egos and bruises, no casualties. He didn't think König would survive if he had genuinely hurt anyone.

Said shifter was angrily crossing his arms, looking at him with frustration. "They weren't moving fast enough. They needed to get to exfil and I didn't think they could make it at the pace we were going. I was trying to prevent anyone from getting hurt."

"I understand that. But you have to ask for permission, König. People could've gotten hurt." Ghost understood the frustration. Nonshifters could be annoyingly slow at times. Personally, he even agreed it was the right call, but he couldn't tell him that.

"Unlike you, I don't go feral when I shift." König hissed. "I'm in control. I was fine." Low fucking blow. It took a lot for Ghost to shove the initially angry reaction down.

Ghost stared at him and sighed. "I believe you. But the point still stands. You should've asked."

König scowled at him fiercely and Ghost just shook his head. "I know you're used to being a mercenary with no ru-"

"Fuck you, Riley." König suddenly got closer, towering over him. Ghost's heart did something funny that he blamed on fear. Nothing else. His breath moved the cloth over his face.

"König. Stand down."

"And what are you doing to do?" He growled at him.

Ghost growled back and stepped closer, ignoring the height difference. He hooked his ankle around König's knees and sent him to the floor, kneeling in front of him. "Don't ever. Ever."

"Ever what? Growl at you? Disrespect your authority?"

Ghost yanked König's hood up and guilt immediately flooded him. König shied away from him, all the fury going out of him. He looked away, ashamed. There were scars across his face, but they weren't too bad. It was the thick scarring around his throat, like he had been wearing a spiked collar or had almost been decapitated.

Ghost dropped his hood. The silence followed like a shroud. It ached and groaned between them.

König let out a shuddering breath. "I... I do not want you to do that again."

"I wont."

"I promise not to shift without your permission again, sir." Sir. ah.

Ghost wanted to apologize. It was funny. He did worse things to other people and never felt this problem and yet, he wanted to apologize. To König.

"Good. Don't let it." That's what he said instead.

König didn't look at him. The silence stayed. Neither slept.

[poquiii]

 König x reader  /  Ghost x reader  Headcanons

 They are like fathers. 

König

● König grew up in an incomplete family, but he still knows what it is to love.

● But he will never get used to how tiny children are.

● The first time he sees your baby, he can't pick them up. He was so afraid of hurting them.

● König walked around your bed for a long time, looking at the little lump in your hands.

● You insisted that he take them in his hands and he sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, watching you put them in his huge, rough and scarred hands.

● Since then, he has made it his goal to be the best dad ever, to make you and your children proud of him.

● He will learn to cook well. He will tell the baby's breakfast so he doesn't have to do it for you.

● If you have a daughter, he won't be afraid to look silly when your daughter wants to paint his nails with pink nail polish.

● He will also learn how to braid her hair.

● He doesn't think it's anything shameful to play dolls with her and make Troop 141 drink tea with her and her teddy bear. (He doesn't fit at her little table, so he sits on the floor, bent in half.)

● He will always treat her like a princess and fend off her suitors.

● He won't have to try particularly hard, all he has to do is stand next to her when he picks her up from school and everyone will go around them.

● If you have a son, Koenig will do everything he wanted from his father when he wasn't around when he was growing up.

● He will teach him how to play soccer, fight, and handle a knife (which you don't approve of, by the way. But he'll just put his head down and mumble awkwardly about self-defense. However, if you don't take pity, he'll back off and teach your son to defend himself with his fists instead)

● He will gladly buy them a dog and train them as the best defense for his child.

● He will carry them on his shoulders and toss them in the air, enjoying the children's laughter.

● He does not want his children to know what he is doing. He avoids these conversations at family dinner in every way possible, asking you and your children more about their day.

● He likes to take his family on picnics and trips to the amusement park.

● He will in all seriousness cry over Disney cartoons when a child asks to watch it with him. (”Coco” broke him.)

● He will always try.

● And he is ready to protect all of you from any danger at the cost of his own life.

Ghost.

● He didn't want this baby.

● That phrase he threw out in a panic made your heart freeze in your chest and your hands clutch at your stomach.

● He immediately started making excuses: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean- Fuck! I didn't-"

● He'll spend a long time trying to explain to you that he's just afraid.

● He's afraid of being a bad father.

● He's barely learned to show his love for you and he's afraid of hurting you, of hurting you.

● Even more so, he was afraid for a defenseless little creature.

● His child. It took him a long time to come to terms with the thought.

● But when he held the little bundle in his hands and your child's little hands reached out to him, something clicked in his chest.

● He would kill for them.

● He would die for them.

● He will do anything for them. Just like he did for you.

● He'll learn how to change diapers, swaddle the baby, make applesauce, and move around even more quietly than before so he doesn't wake them or you. 

● After all, he knows how tired you are.

● He didn't wear a balaclava at home. He understood that the child was afraid of it.

● For a while he thought he was naked with his face open. But first you started kissing his cheeks every time you ran into him in the hallway of your house, and then the baby started touching his face with his little fingers and smiling.

● And for the first time, he felt comfortable without Ghost. It was just Simon Riley.

● If you have a daughter, he won't be a soft dad. On the contrary. He'll teach her to fight better than any boy. He'll do anything to keep his beautiful, beautiful girl safe.

● And yes, he's the kind of father who demonstratively cleans his gun in front of his daughter's boyfriend when he walks her out on her first date.

● If you have a son, Ghost will treat him like a little warrior. "You have to protect mommy while I'm gone."

● Your son will be a copy of his father in both appearance and personality. He'll even steal Ghost masks from your closet and sneak them on to show he's as tough as Daddy.

● Ghost never objects. and always strokes his son's head affectionately.

● In fact, he's afraid his son will find out the truth about his father and hate him. 

● The ghost doesn't want to be what he used to be. He wants to be the best version of himself for his family.

● And every time you smile at him affectionately while he does your children's homework, you kiss him affectionately on the forehead, he knows he's doing the right thing.

● He will never yell at his children, never hit them or punish them harshly.

● He wants the best for them and knows he can't protect them from everything, so he tries to teach them everything he knows. To prepare them for hardships and make them strong both physically and mentally.

[nrdmssgs]

König x tattoo artist reader

Masterlist

This started as a headcannon, but has grown into a brief scenario. There is a bit a of pet play happening down there, but i've tried to keep it light

Once he found out about your job, there is no way back. Man practically begs you to show him any new thing, you're working on. Congratulations, you've got your biggest fan from now on.

In Königs` opinion, not only was he lucky enough to get the best person out there, he was the luckiest one to see how your ideas are born! And he LIVES for that moments.

He sees your projects as something, that should be displayed in a museum.

Yes, Louvre, he is looking at you. It's high time you open new rooms for his Schatzs`* works to be displayed in!

"König, I thought, I threw out that sketch. C`mon, man, it's garbage, nobody needs it!"

"Nein! I'm keeping it! It's mine from now on!"

Secretly keeps a whole pile of scraps of paper, crumpled sheets, napkins you threw away while sketching.

He is interested in your entire creative process: from the first sketches to photo sessions with healed works. Bombards you with questions. "Is there any differences in a result if you draw two same sketches with a pencil and a thin brush?", "What do you like to tattoo the most?", "Where do you draw inspiration from?".

He brings albums with views of the nearest cities and just books with beautiful photographs and reproductions from every airport and train station when he travels (which is really often).

If you had not a huge library of inspirational sources before meeting him... you better buy a few new bookcases.

He never considered getting inked, especially not by you, no... To put your masterpiece on his calloused and scarred skin would be a sacrilegious act. No, he can't even dare to think of it...

Until one day, when he is sitting at your tattoo studio, minding his own business waiting for the end of your working day, like a good boy, when an old customer of yours arrives. You greet them warmly, give them a hug. And you say this one phrase, which is an old and silly joke between you and that customer...

"C`mon, lets get you marked." You say and take the customer to your room.

At this moment, something clicks in Koenig's head.

He tries not to think about it for the next few weeks, but fails. Because when you put it that way... To be marked as yours by your divine art, to wear that traces of your touch for eternity... His heart flips every time this idea reappears in his head.

You notice that lately he is often lost in his thoughts, and a light blush touches his cheeks.

So one of these times, you're having breakfast and can't help but notice that look on his face. "Koenig, are you alright? You look... lost."

"Oh?", he shudders. "No-no, I'm fine, just thinking..."

After some persuasion, you manage to draw out an indistinct "How much do you think it will cost ... to get a tattoo at your place?" out of him.

"It depends on which artist you have in mind... but you know, there are some perks in dating one." And before he is able to process that, you add, "I'm not taking your money, love. Tell me, what was on your mind, what you wanted to see on you?"

His answer was ready long ago. "Anything! As long as it's yours. Anything you could leave on me."

You try to get anything more specific, but he is really happy for any piece, that will remind him constantly, that you are not a figment of his imagination, that you exist, and you want him by your side.

You decide to start with something small, so that he can always cover that, if he feels like it.

Later that week you flip the pages of your album, that you are using just for ideas for his body (as the professional you would never try to convince him to get inked, the decision must be fully his, but nobody can stop you from fantasizing, how could you decorate that gorgeous body of his) in your studio, as he comes.

"Hi there, love. Haven't changed your mind?" you greet and embrace him. He is so excited, he almost shakes. "Nein, Schatz! I would never." he answers, pulling you in a tighter embrace.

So far he is your most trusting and content client. You barely make him look at the sketch after you made its copy on his arm. He wanted the reveal to be a surprise for him after you finish the whole tattoo, but you refused to proceed with the main process without obtaining his consent to this particular idea.

But when he sees the sketch on his skin, the man is speechless. Yes, you were always so very gifted in his eyes, but this... So simple, yet this idea is exactly, what he's been dreaming of. Two words superimposed on each other. Curves of letters, merging into the most intimate sounds that have ever flown from your lips ...

Good thing, he isn't afraid of blood, and has a pretty high pain threshold. So he sits there absolutely still, admiring every second of you working on him.

He is almost afraid to move, he desperately tries to calm his rushing heart down. What you do to him right now is sacred and divine to König. You are leaving your mark and you are not to be interrupted in any way.

So even when a little sweat drop slides down his temple, he doesn't flinch.

You notice it and decide to give the man a break. You give him a towel, pour a glass of water and ask him if it hurts. He tries to answer, but his voice is raspy because of dry throat.

"I-I... khhhmm, I'm fine. Go on, please!"

It's when your gaze slips down his body and you notice it. He enjoys it, he painfully enjoys it.

That's when you put your machine away and lean closer to him.

"I see, someone is having a good time...", you whisper, putting your hand oh sooo close to his hardness. "Looks like a pet just wants to be branded so badly."

Königs face grows bright red. He tries to mask the fever burning under his skin, to not disturb your work, but it is impossible, when you are so close, and you have him completely at your mercy. Your hand is almost touching him. Almost, but not yet. He looks away, embarrassed, aroused, panting. Silently praying for your mercy.

You grin. Poor thing is desperate for your touch in any way. "Now you be good and let me finish this work, ok?"

König nods quickly and covers his erection with the free arm.

"Did I let you hide yourself, pet?" you seem to look in the other direction, but notice his notion and correct him in a flash.

"You will sit here still as I work, you will look at me, and you won't cover yourself unless you're said so", you purr as you continue working.

When you are done, the man is a mess. He is breathless, he can only mumble and curse under his breath. You wipe off blood trails from a fresh tattoo on his arm and lean away to appreciate the result.

It's nothing really fancy, but it is a good start, if he ever decides, he wants more ink (he already has, believe me).

"You like it, love?"

Königs eyes are completely transfixed on your work. He slowly looks up at you. "Schatz... am I dreaming? This is ideal. H-how can I?"

You cut him off: "You'll thank me by caring right for it. No rubbing, no swimming, no touching the bandage till I let you... and no extensive physical activity for you for today. I'll bring you the lotion this evening, so be good and wait for me at home."

He looks at you with the most obedient eyes and just silently nods.

"One last thing." You go behind him, he is still sitting in the chair. You lean towards his ear and whisper, "Don't you dare touch yourself without me. Furthermore, you sit and wait for me." Your hand slides down his torso and his breath hitches. "This is all mine, pet. And now you have a constant reminder of that." 

*Schatz - treasure