#konig request

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

cockwarming or wet dream with könig (maybe both?)

Both. Both is good. Hope you enjoy!

title: worth your while

pairing: konig x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1779

summary:

Konig wakes from a wet dream and asks you for some relief.

author's note: god i love the big mountain man. thank you so much for this request! would love more könig requests! or just cry with me about him

buy me a coffee?

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, potentially bad german translations, wet dreams, minor belly bulge mention, mild/moderate somno, könig begging reader for cock warming, sleepy sex, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names, squirting, size kink. let me know if any are missing!

König’s got you on your hands and knees, hips hiked up high as he pounds into you. Your cunt is soaking wet, the lewd sounds echoing in the dark room with each slam of his hips against the plush fullness of your ass.

“Taking me so well, liebling,” he groans, tipping his head back. “Love this little cunt stretched around my cock.”

You whine, your fingers curling into the sheets as he ravages you. “Wanna come, König. Please?”

“Not yet,” he says. “I am not done with you.”

Konig pulls out of you, turning you by the hips so that you’re on your back. You look up at him with lust drunk eyes, your chest heaving with your labored breaths. He drags you down the bed until your ass is perched on his thighs and he can spear you with his aching cock once more.

“My little toy,” he coos. “Just wanted to see your pretty face as you beg me to let you come.”

“König, please let me come,” you moan. Your hands cup your breasts, tweaking your nipples harshly. He feels the resulting flutter of your walls around his cock and the growl that breaks free from deep in his chest is damn near primal. He leans forward, pressing the weight of his body down on yours. Your knees are pressed up against your chest and König is going so deep that when he looks down, he swears he can see the outline of his cock in your belly with each thrust inside of you.

“Kannst du das fühlen?” He asks. “Spüre, wie ich dich spalte?”

You nod your head, though he’s certain you have no idea what he’s saying. The thought makes him chuckle.

“Do you still want to come, meine liebe?” He asks, breathless as his hips stutter against yours with his own impending release.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble. “Please!”

“Come for me, soak my fucking cock,” he commands.

König wakes with a moan of your name on his lips, his cock hard as a rock and creating an impressive tent in his boxers. Beside him, you wiggle in your sleep, the sheets dipping below your waist to expose the curve of your ass in those little sleep shorts you wear that drive him wild. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, tracing his fingers lightly over your shoulder.

“Mmph, König?” You slur, turning your head as if to look over your shoulder but your eyes remain closed. “S’wrong?”

“Need you, Schatz,” he groans. He scooches closer to you, pressing his body to yours and grinding his hard length against your plush ass. “Bitte.”

________

König’s thick cock is pressing against your ass, his breath hot against your neck. Your body reacts to him even in your half asleep state, your hips grinding back against him. The gentle hands that had woken you up are greedy now, slipping into your tank top to palm your breast, fingers curling roughly against the plush flesh.

“Sleepy,” you mumble, eyes still shut but your brain slowly makes the connection to reality.

“Let me fill your little cunt,” Konig whispers into your ear. “You can just keep my cock nice and warm for me, ja?”

His hand leaves your breast, trailing across the dip in your waist until his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. He slides his gun calloused digits through the slickness already coating your core, a groan rumbling through his chest against your back.

“So wet for me already, liebling. Let me fill this needy pussy. Bitte? Please? I know you’re so tired, my love, you won’t even need to wake,” he says, voice uncharacteristically whiney in your ear. Your hips undulate against his hand, a gasp slipping from your lips as he presses a thick finger into your entrance. 

“König,” you moan. You can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder, so certain he’s about to get his way. “I have to wake up early,” you complain, though it’s a half-hearted attempt. 

“I know, Schatz, but I need you so badly,” he begs, his fingers withdrawing and making you feel empty and achy as he circles your clit. 

“Fine,” you acquiesce. No sooner than the word leaves your mouth are your shorts pulled down, König sitting up to get them completely off your legs and discarded in the sheets somewhere. His excitement makes you giggle and you stifle the sound by turning your face into your pillow. 

You feel him shift behind you before he notches the head of his cock to your entrance, pressing in slowly. König is massive, easily the biggest man you’ve ever been with and he’s most definitely proportional all over. His cock is long and thick with a slight upward curve that drags against all the right spots. 

You remember the first time the two of you had sex, a hook up after a night at the bar while he’d been on leave. His pretty blue eyes drew you in but you were most obsessed with the way his fair skin tinged pink every time you made an overtly sexual joke. You decided to make it your mission to see how far down that blush went.

That blush went all the way down his chest when you’d pulled his cock free from his pants and couldn’t think of anything to say besides, “There’s no way that’s fitting inside me.”

König likes a challenge, though. He continues to prove as much every time he patiently works his cock into you inch by inch, much like he is right now. You can feel him fighting to control himself, the bruising grip of his fingers curled around your hip a dead giveaway.

“Du fühlst dich so gut,” he murmurs into your shoulder. “Meine Lieblingsplatz.”

You squirm against him as he continues to work himself inside of you until his hips are flush with yours, the stretch of him punching the air from your lungs. Your pussy burns deliciously as you adjust to the feeling.

True to his word, König slips a heavy arm over your waist, holding you tightly to him. He doesn’t move, just breathes deeply and evenly at your back, puffs of his breath tickling your neck.

You try to relax, but the burn gives way to a familiar ache, your walls clenching around him. You wiggle your hips just a little, trying to get comfortable, but all that does is press him impossibly deeper and make the buzz beneath your skin intensify.

You flex your hips again, biting your lip to hold back the moan threatening to escape. König’s breathing is deep and even behind you and for a moment you think the man has really fallen asleep.

But then his hand is stilling the movement of your hips, holding you flush to him as he says, “Thought you wanted to sleep, Schatz.”

“You’re right,” you reply, not wanting to give in to him yet. You take a few calming breaths, trying to block out how full your pussy feels. 

It works for a few minutes. You focus on the sounds of the room - König’s deep breaths, the clock ticking, the whir of the air conditioning unit. You feel your eyes grow heavy again and for a moment you think you really may succumb to sleep, despite the fact that König is splitting you open.

But then your brain goes through a free fall, jerking you awake, the movement causing you to thrust back against König, his cock rubbing across your g-spot and making you moan loudly in surprise. 

Konig stills your writhing hips once more. “This is not sleeping,” he teases.

“I know, I know, I take it back,” you babble. “Want you to fuck me, König, please?”

He answers by sliding an arm beneath your body and using the other to haul you on top of him with a grip under your top knee. He’s lying flat with your back held tight to his chest by an arm placed just under your breasts, your legs now splayed widely on either side of his hips. He bends his knees, planting his feet wide apart on the mattress.

You gasp as his cock drags out of you before he thrusts sharply back inside. The rhythm he sets is brutal, harsh slaps of his hips to yours that echo through the room. You tilt your head, seeking out his over your shoulder.

König brings a hand up to your face, holding your cheek with his broad palm as he kisses you deeply. You whine into his mouth, hips squirming against the onslaught of sensation you’re experiencing. His lips tilt up in a smirk.

“What is the matter, meine herz?” He asks, the hand on your cheek migrating to your throat. His fingers squeeze gently, a possessive hold that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

“Fuck, König. You’re so fucking big,” you pant. He fills up every inch of your body until you can think of nothing but him. “Need to come, fuck, I need to come so bad,” you whimper.

König’s thrusts grow impossibly harder and he slides his other hand down your belly, his fingers circling your clit with rough circles that make you cry out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“Come for me,” König growls.

And who are you to disobey?

Your vision gets speckled with tiny supernovas as your release washes over you, drenching König’s cock and your thighs. Your pussy clenches around him in a vise grip, his hips stuttering as warm ribbons of his come fill your fluttering cunt.

His hips slow, his come seeping from you and adding to the mess on your bodies and the sheets. You’re gasping for breath and König’s arms flop to the side as he gives a heavy, satisfied sigh that makes you giggle.

You roll off of him, snuggling in against his sweat damp chest. Your fingers trace the constellations of scars you’re intimately familiar with.

Your alarm rings, a blaring horn that makes you groan. You turn over, grabbing your phone to hit the snooze button. König welcomes you back into his arms.

“This was a better alarm, ja?” He asks, voice smug.

You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable. What did you even dream about?”

“You, of course. On all fours, begging for me.”

You glance down, shocked to find him growing hard again already. He grins at you.

“I’m going to be late!” You argue, even as you allow him to roll you to your back and press hot kisses to your neck, trailing them to your chest. 

“I’ll make it worth your while, liebling.”

Translations:

Liebling - Darling

Kannst du das fühlen? - Can you feel that?

Spüre, wie ich dich spalte - Feel how I split you?

Schatz - Sweetheart

Bitte - Please

Ja - Yes

Du fühlst dich so gut - You feel so good

Mein Lieblingsplatz - My favorite place

Meine herz - My heart

Please let me know if any of these phrases should be adjusted. Thank you!

Want more Konig? Click here for my master list.

[konigsblog]

pornstar!könig and camera-girl!reader :3 🎥

you're meek and shy, a little thing standing nervously in the corner of the room with your camera, ready to record the pornstars perform their work. it's pretty obvious to most in the room that you're new to this type of work environment, but you get your job done and you do it decently. könig spends hours having sex with other pornstars, but instead, he has his eye on you. you stand there, shifting your weight from foot to foot, humiliated and embarrassed as you record people having sex with each other.

könig tries to convince you to join in with him and create a video with him one day, although it takes a lot of convincing and a little bit of coercion to convince you to strip down bare and expose yourself to him. god, könig is hungry and insatiable at the sight, something he'd been dreaming to see.

you're inexperienced and don't have a clue what you're doing, but that only makes it all the more enjoyable for könig, who ploughs into your swollen, slick folds on repeat until he's cumming uncontrollably, filling your tight warmth with ropes of his thick, sticky creaminess. you take notes off of other pornstars, copying their techniques to appeal to the viewers.

he'll rewatch that video specifically, getting off to it and fantasising about you while recording with other women. although you're not a pornstar yourself—just a little pervert standing awkwardly in the corner, attempting to do your job despite the clear effect it has on you—you're better than anyone else he's worked with, although he may be a little biased.

[tacticalprincess]

imagining blue collar könig nd im going a bit feral rn 🧑‍🦯 ijk that man will get you pregnant any chance he can get

tw heavy breeding kink, lactation kink, pregnant sex.

blue collar!könig who gets off on being the cause of your wide hips and full, heavy breasts. goes insane seeing you walk around the house barefoot and swollen with his offspring, your soft, plump body a telltale sign of how well taken care of you are by your husband. a sick, possessive side of him loves knowing that when you're out in public, it's apparent that you're taken and claimed by him in every way, that his children are growing inside you.

pregnancy has granted you an ethereal glow that makes it impossible to say no to you, his cock chubbing up at the sight of you so domesticated for him. it doesn't help that your pregnancy hormones have you sopping wet and ready for it all hours of the day, keen on spreading your legs for him as soon as be gets home from work, begging for him to stuff you and make your cramps go away. and who is he to deny the mother of his children in her time of need? it's his duty as his husband to take care of you.

he fucks you as much as he can, the positions getting more and more accommodating as your stomach grows, but no less filthy and desperate on both ends. he helps relieve the pain in your tender breasts by sucking at your sensitive, leaky nipples while his cock pistons inside you, pumping your full womb while he laps at your sweet milk.

he falls in love with your wailing, chubby baby the minute you give birth, and it gets harder to adhere to the doctors orders of abstinence the more he sees how well you take to motherhood. he settles for eating you out after he's put the baby to sleep, helping you relax in the best way after a long night of staying up and tending to them. if you're up for it, he'll have you push your soft tits together so he can rut his hard dick into them, his thick cum mixing with your pearly milk.

however, the moment you come home from your follow up appointment after being given the okay, he's bending you over the nearest surface, intent on knocking you up again. promises to dote and take care of you all over again, as long as you give him another baby (or two or three.) doesn't let you off his cock until he's sure it'll take, only satisfied when your womb is bloated with his seed and your pregnancy tests come back positive. <3

[soullessdianthus]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Warnings: obsessive behaviour, dubcon/noncon for the last few headcanons (I've put a warning if you want to stop reading)

Poorly translated German, correct me if needed!

Important note at the end!

✧°.  König is a kind of pervert who fantasizes about you, when he beats his meaty cock with his hand, imagining all of the possible scenarios in his head.

✧°.  With you bend over the surface of the table or desk and him pounding into your tight cunt from behind. Your hair falls out through his thick fingers as he tugs on them to arch your spine better.

✧°.  Perv!König can’t help but stare at your breasts from above (thanks to his height), exposed by the cleavage of your shirt. A soft, plump flesh squeezed by a little to small size of bra. Did you do that on purpose to torment him with the beautiful sight?

✧°.  He wants to sneak his warm hand under your shirt and fondle them, play with both nipples until they’re perky, before he finally laps at them with his wet mouth and sucks.

✧°.  His cock twitches painfully when he sees you with a gun holster or climbing equipment on. The stiff material digging into your plush thighs, one stripe just under the curve of your ass. It gives Perv!König the new fixation he would like to test out with you – a shibari or any other bondage. 

✧°.  Just to have you tied up like a little gift and on his sick mercy.

✧°.  But there would come time, where the fantasies, weirdly specific porn and fucking his own palm is not enough, he craves more.

✧°.  König starts to supervise your training with a gun or in a gym. Instead of just verbally correcting your aiming posture, he would stand behind you, his bulky arms wrapped around your sides. He would lean over your shoulder and whisper a few words in German. Quickly and incoherently, but you didn’t understand it anyways! You don’t know German! 

✧°.  “Fokus auf das Ziel, nicht mein Schwanz, Schlampe" [ger.: Focus on the target, not my dick, slut].”

✧°.  Perv!König is delusional as fuck. He would interpret your confusion and shyness in such situations with succumbing to his flirting. Your eyes were begging for his attention, ja? 

✧°.  He would absolutely push your limits, telling you to do a series or two more in the gym just to hear your little whines and moans due to your hard work! 

✧°.  Not to mention how König is fascinated with your scent even after such an intense workout. The sweat glistening on your smooth skin, pretty face red from exhaustion. You looked exactly just like he imagines you after being fucked stupid. 

✧°.  But even creeping on you in the gym or armory wasn’t enough for Perv!König! He still wants more! 

✧°.  I bet we can all agree that he would be a panty thief, especially those used ones. König would take them out of the laundry and rub along his painfully throbbing cock just to cum into them! 

✧°.  And then he put them back in the basket and pretended like nothing happened. Although, he was a little sad that you didn’t put them on with his warm seed still on it. 

✧°.  This way Perv!König could mark you as his girl. <3

✧°.  Perv!König would sneak to the bathroom to peek at you taking a bath or shower, admiring your naked body from a safe distance.

[Dubcon/Noncon Warning]

✧°.  If you ever happen to get super drunk while hanging out with him, Perv!König would absolutely take advantage of your easily persuasive state. Pulling you into his lap, because it’s more comfortable than a wooden chair, ja? Just to help you relax, because you seemed so nervous about getting drunk with your Colonel!

✧°.  König would place his big hand over your stomach and slowly slide down, under the hem of your pants. When you started mumbling something in your drunken state, he was quick to whisper little praises into your ear, assuring he would take good care of you. 

✧°.  His fingers easily found their way into your panties – who knows, maybe it was the same pair he jerked himself into before? Perv!König took his time playing with you, rubbing your clit in circles, before he eventually plunged two of his thick fingers into your sweet pussy. 

✧°.  He had to shush your precious mewls, when he continued stroking that specific spongy spot inside of you, until you came onto his fingers, still sitting prettily in his lap. Like a trophy. King’s trophy.

A/N: This was highly requested and let me tell you ─ I have two more pervy scenarios in the drafts: Perv!Boyfriend!König and Perv!Landlord!König. It depends if you want to read those. Let me know please. 👉👈

[uhohdad]

loser könig ‘comforting’ reader after she had a bad breakup/failed date…

(18+) Loser!König x Heartbroken!Reader

WARNING: MANIPULATIVE & COERCIVE BEHAVIOR

Loser!König’s brows are creased in sympathy, cooing reassurances in a soft, compassionate tone - but he truly could not be happier. He has to bite back the smile just begging to make the muscles in his face sore.

Loser!König hated your boyfriend anyway, such an arrogant jerk he was. König would treat you so much better, he would never make you cry. You can’t see it now, but you’re much better off.

Loser!König doesn’t dare miss his opportunity to touch you, rubbing your back soothingly as you cry, his hands dipping lower than they should on each descent of his gentle traces.

Loser!König’s cock is straining against his pants, and he can hardly bring himself to feel ashamed about it. The sound of your stuttered sobs and the sight of tears streaming down your face has his cock at full attention, a bead of arousal forming at the tip and threatening to stain his underwear.

Loser!König scoots closer to you, pressing his thigh to yours as he slings his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

Loser!König sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, holding back a needy groan when your palm rests on his chest. He can feel your plush, clothed breasts graze against him with each of your faltered breaths.

Loser!König rests his cheek on the top of your head, eyes lulling as he inhales you. You’re intoxicating, he’s high off the scent of your shampoo and your touch, his cock throbbing with each breath of you he draws.

Loser!König will fix you a drink to make you feel better. Loosen you up a little. You’re so weak and vulnerable right now, he’s hoping that your ex not only just drove you into his arms, but into his bedroom as well.

Loser!König <3

[toxooz]

-draws human battering ram König like its my next hit of crack-

[sexydoffyman]

Weird request but how would TF141+König and Alejandro react to meeting an orphan around 15 years of age who's like extremely talented in engineering, mathematics and physics, like they could build a rocket if they had the materials ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It can be HC, whatever you want! I was thinking maybe said orphan got in trouble with the government for unknowingly building some sort of weapon, maybe it was stolen? Twist that however you wish.

Just ignore this ask if you wanna <3

A KID?

genre: action

characters: König, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick

A/n: expect a lot more mistakes. Also thinking this needs a second part.

It’s been 6 years now since the war began. You were left stranded. All by yourself. Left on your own by everyone. Living was hard, but you pulled through. You learned how to do a lot of shit since you were there only with yourself for some time. Building stuff. That was your biggest interest.

You were constantly making things. New weapons mostly. You were always moving, never staying in one place for too long. You got brutal throughout the years you were alone. You took the uniform of a dead soldier. To blend in. You were mistaken for a recruit and pulled inside a helicopter by a military dude.

The military was a great provider of food and healthcare. So you just went along with everything they threw at you. Your knowledge of building shit helped out a lot. And even when some dude figured out you were a kid he let you stay.

The same dude put you in a task force with a man he trusted. You were cautious of everyone in there, but at least you had some people who you could trust a bit.

You picked up how things work from the years of pretending to be a soldier. Pretending to be an adult was getting easier and the task force you were assigned to found a place in your heart.

“There’s gotta be a way.” You finally snapped out of thinking about life before the war. You thought that the military would be a great cover. But now all your hope of making it out alive hit zero. You were stuck and with gas slowly filling the room that you and the others were in you knew your chances of survival were low.

You sat in the corner of the room. You had given up a few minutes ago already. The others were still trying to figure something out.

Suddently you felt something inside of you snap. You were not gonna die today. It must’ve been the panicking of the rough men infront of you that made you have that feeling. You started to search for a solution.

You found a small vent. It was too small to fit a grown man in, but you were not a grown man. You took off your gear and crawled into the vent unnoticed by your team.

You finally got to use the skills you gained. You crawled through the vent and dropped down from the ceiling right on the other side of a door that the rest of your team was trying to open. You managed to get inside some kind of an electrical system. You cut some wires and reconnected some other ones. The door opened with a space in between the doors just a centimeter big.

Grabbing a metal piece from the electrical you prayed the door open. You were met with the looks of your crew. You looked down and put your hand above your forehead to block your face. By now all of them realized that you weren't of age.

You ran into the room to grab your gear while your team gave each other a disgusted glance. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” you said as you walked away from the room. Price grabbed you by the shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with your mask on now.

“How old are you?” he was looking at you worriedly while he said that. You didn’t know what to answer and so after a few stutters you answered “Classified” This only made them feel more curious.

It has been days since that mission and nobody brought up the fact that you were a kid. You did notice that Price stopped shouting orders at you and started just saying them in a normal calm tone. Soap was making more small talk with you than usual. Ghost was staying closer to you, knowing you might not be able to fend off an enemy. Gaz was making sure to double-check your gear.

When you teamed up with Mexican special forces and met Alejandro you were given tasks that you’d be on with multiple people.

When you were stranded from the team, finding your way to a spot they could locate you at, you met another dude. Austrian and huge. Big dude. He was your enemy, but it didn’t take him long to find out that an adult dude would have a little more strength than you did. He forced your mask off and found out that you were in fact a kid.

Instead of killing you, he spared you. Helping you locate your tram instead of them having to look for you.

Would you survive the next missions? That you don’t know. But you do know that you don’t have to worry about pretending to be an adult.

[kechiwrites]

anymore konig whimpering in the works? 👀 asking for a friend.

hope your friend enjoys. könig x reader, mdni

König's back is so sensitive. It's adorable. Lately, brushing your lips over the white flesh and puckered pink scars is almost second nature. Nipping at his shoulder then blowing cool air over the damp skin, however, is new. But it has the intended effect. A low...almost whine? Maybe whimper is a better word for the noise that builds in his throat while you tease him.

And it's so easy to tease him.

"König." You murmur, rubbing your forehead into the skin between his shoulder blades, following the spread of his blush over his nape with your eyes before it escapes into the dark strands of his hair. The action is tender, soft soft soft. But with your chest plastered to his back and both hands wrapped firmly around his cock, there's no way to suppress the greedy buck of his hips. The way he chases pleasure in your hands all fast, needy, vulnerable. He dwarfs you, even as you both kneel in front of the standing mirror in your house, big back and broad shoulders obscuring your hungry eyes from view, as he humps at your hand frantically, watching his own body flush a deep scarlet, staring at the length of his dick disappear and reappear from the slick grasp of your palms. He grips the sides of the standing mirror so hard you worry the glass and metal won't survive, worried his fervor will warp the frame, shatter the reflection. But König holds it together, controls himself, controls his strength, and continues to fuck your fist.

Because he needs you.

[sixleggedboar]

How are you friend?

Also if I understood correctly, how about könig or (something new) keegan in the color plate Nightfall?

I’m doing mostly alright, I hope you’re good too. Thank you for the request!

Ask for a character and palette

[konigsblog]

Unfortunately, König would be ridiculously controlling in a relationship.

It stems from him being overprotective of you and ridiculously insecure of his conventionally unattractive appearance, fearing that you'll come to the realisation that there's better looking men out there who won't treat you like a puppet or a toy. He can't stand the idea of another man laying eyes on your figure, the thought of another perverted and gross degenerate — similar to himself — getting off to your innocent, cutesy selfies. You're for König's eyes only, and he'll make sure of it. He'll plead with you to delete the recent pictures of you wearing a skimpy and revealing bikini while on vacation that you'd recently uploaded onto your Instagram page. His rage and frustration grows beyond comprehension when you refuse. He'll demand that you should at least private your account, block all the men following and liking your posts. Let him protect you.

Oh, you have plans to go out drinking with your closest friends? Well, that's too bad. That's far too dangerous and risky. Anything could happen to a group of intoxicated, tipsy, and delirious women. He's just looking out for you, little mouse... Why don't you come lay down beside him, rest your head against his brute chest and watch your favourite movie together, listening to the sound of each other's heartbeat? He'll take great care of you. It's safer, anyways.

König doesn't care how long you've known your friends for, if you've known them since childhood or not. He'll convince you that they're a horrible influence on you, that they're toxic and manipulative, and that you don't see through their toxicity. He'll claim that they don't look out for you like König does, that they put you in life-threatening situations where your life is placed in danger. He'll sneak onto your phone while you're soaking yourself in the bubbly bathtub, going out of his way to block and get rid of your friends — making an effort to threaten all your male friends while he has the time.

Sure, it's bound to result in an argument and a screaming match between the two of you, but you just don't understand — you don't see it from his perspective. You should be grateful, Liebling.

[tacticalprincess]

ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^

very im on fire of him

könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.

its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.

simon’s weird, quiet teammate, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.

he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.

“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”

after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”

“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.

“allow me—?”

“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”

his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.

[soullessdianthus]

Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.  

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked. 

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir. 

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir. 

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together. 

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.  

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable. 

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want? 

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better. 

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you. 

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts! 

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe. 

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg. 

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

[uhohdad]

Would you ever write anything with a plus size reader? Maybe she’s (or they, can be gn idc!) really insecure but they hide it behind jokes and Konig sees right through it because he does the same

Cut to him always giving them compliments and making sure they stay fed and throwing them over his shoulder like they weigh nothing (usually in front of people cause he likes to embarrass and humiliate reader cause he is still kinda a jerk /affectionate/)

Can be nsfw or whatever you want, I’m not good at plot lol so Idk I just need him to treat me like I’m a teeny lil thing (cause let’s be real he really is a mountain lol)

König x PlusSized!Reader

───♡──────────

He’s getting tired of this nasty habit, liebling.

Everyday before your shower, you’ll stand in the mirror, honing in on that gorgeous, perfect body, digging for any little thing to critique.

“You better be thinking nice thoughts in there, little one.”

You just let out a groan, too far sunk into the spiral of self-hatred to claw yourself back out.

König rises from his spot on the bed a greets you with disapproving, half-lidded eyes in the mirror.

“What is it this time?”

“Tummy. Thighs. Chest.”

“Ach, you mean the best parts?”

You answer with an annoyed hum.

Konig will place his big, sturdy hands on your bare hips from behind, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

The gentle peck distracts you from the strong arms scooping you up, a squeak leaving you as he sweeps you off your feet in one swift motion, ripping away your view of yourself in the mirror.

“König!”

“What?” He draws, carrying you from the bathroom to the bedroom.

“Put me down!” You say through a giggle, kicking your feet in his restraint.

“Hold on, I just have to get my curls in.”

He holds you horizontally across those strong arms, muscles tensing as he lifts and lowers you while you giggle all the way.

“I’m too heavy for this!”

“Barely a warm-up, liebling.”

He effortlessly tosses you onto the bed with a bounce, crawling over top you before you can even finish your squeal.

He showers kisses all over your bare tummy, his stubble sanding against plush, soft skin. Trailing his slobbering kisses up to your chest, giving your perfect breasts plenty of love. Your thighs would be last, showering you with pecks and even licking slow stripes across the flesh.

“König!”

“What?”

He’ll feign innocence, but that cocky smirk on his face betrays him.

“It’s too bad you can’t see what I see.”

���──♡──────────

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[sexydoffyman]

Could I maybe get an NSFW alphabet plz with male reader? Thanks!

NSFW ALPHABET - KÖNIG

navigation

genre: smut

characters: König

A/n: a friend pf mine pronounces his name like qwajnk.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh boy. He doesn't really seem like it but he really fucking likes cuddles. He definitely uses his height to his advantage. (You're getting grounded, literary) He is a little self-conscious after sex. He knows he's big. He also knows he could hurt you pretty badly. Thoughts of you hating him or losing interest fill his head. He just has to grab you and make sure you stay there with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms. You can grab on them, and it makes them seem even bigger than they already are. He likes putting you in a chokehold.

What he favours the most in you are your legs. Thighs specifically. He doesn't really have a reason for it. He just likes them. Let the man get some thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Average texture, not super thick, but also not watery. Hex - f3f5e6 Big man big load. Usually pulls out and catches it in his hand. (He doesn't want to add work by having to clean anything up) He also doesn't really want you to swallow it. He is mature he doesn't need a porn actor who will do anything to satisfy a dude. He'd rather have real sex.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't fit in a fleshlight. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's over 40. Definitely has a pretty big body count. About 27 I'd say. (counting one-night stands) He finally found someone on whom he can use his knowledge on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or the seashell.

When he spoons you he can put you in a chokehold, making you fight back a little. On the other hand, when he bends your legs you won't be able to fucking move.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but not a nerd kinda serious. He just doesn't speak much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps a solid bush on there. (He does make sure to clean it properly) It is not messy. He's got a little thicker happy trail. And he's a pretty brunet down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be pretty brutal both with his actions and with his words. Or he can be soft with both. It depends on both of your moods.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This testosterone-filled man definitely jerks off. Even when you are around (Doesn't try to hide it)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being in control. I mean, can you blame him. He has the perfect body and occupation for it. Speaking of body.

Size difference. Again it just feels right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could fuck anywhere. Even tho he likes it the most from the safety of your bedroom he wouldn't mind a public bathroom or a friend's bedroom. He likes to be sneaky. Has never been caught once.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything.

Do anything he's hard instantly. That's why he jerks off so much.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want it he wants it. Except threesomes. He wants you for himself. Who could blame him when he has such a pretty thing only for him. Why would he share

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He isn't bad at giving but he can use his hands and dick way better than his mought.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way. He loves to be in control and he's got all this raw strength and energy. Why not use it?

He also likes the slow and sensual. Both of you need a break sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd go for them more often, but he doesn't really want to bother you. Another reason for him jerking off a lot.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s always pulling you to the side, finding a place to make you take him. He is obsessed of holding the door to make sure no one gets in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This dude. Bruv can go as long as you can go. He will take you to the stars and back and it’ll take him only a minute to catch his breath.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a fan of them. He’d rather have you on his dick not some plastic. He doesn’t find much pleasure in them either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Based on his mood.

He could play with you as he holds you down.

Or he could be quick about it.

He for sure doesn’t mind teasing you. Touching your thigh is his favourite way to do so.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is dead silent. Sometimes it freaks you out. But if he finds out you enjoy the sounds he makes he will definitely try to add more of ‘em

Slight sighing when he lays his body on yours, little grunts and the occasional “fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into stalking. It doesn’t matter of it’s you stalking him or the other way around. He loves the thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inches abnormaly thick. #e0ae82 base #ba7f68 tip. Slightly curved to the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Boy can go anywhere anytime. Public bathroom, bed, a random fucking room. He’s always thinking of it. Hard 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk a bit afterwards but he will fall asleep like a baby right after he’s done.

[comfortless]

Everything you write leaves me breathless <333

Sorry in advance for my English

I was thinking about König, (maybe in an ancient rome/Greek settling) being so alone and desperate for connection that he turns to religion: one day he's walking in the woods, deep in thought, when he finds an abandoned temple. The inside is small but lavish, with a life sized statue of what must be its goddess. He sees this lovely sculpture, abandoned and alone and sees himself in her. He becomes a dedicated, fanatic and soso lovestruck worshipper. Unknownly to him his goddess, woken by his prayers, has been watching him and listening to him. One day while he's praying in front of her her statue moves and talks and now his deity is in front of him. Looks like he has an opportunity to worship her like she deserves ;)

granting you ten million kissies for this prompt and your sweet words! your English is perfect, little wisp! <3 also… giving me an excuse to write more loner/loner and mutual worship?! you have spoken to my heart…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical/myth au; vague time period, brief mentions of violence, fluff, pining, not very explicit smut, mutual worship.

The spirit of the temple feels disorienting, though the architecture is a still, white marble, the floor riddled with leaves and dirt, creeping up the sides of the building as if river water had washed the entire thing ashore… Something feels very alive here, feathered out on the air, a pulse of thunder, the breeze beneath dove’s wings, enthused and yawning. Hungry.

It only becomes more apparent the closer he steps to the statue.

She is unlike any he has ever seen before, carved with the same skill, but so much smaller than the other statues in their temples, so much more lifelike that he almost thinks to greet her. She’s been painted unlike most, a perfect vision bathed in color where she stands out amidst the sea of white and green surrounding her. The temple has not been stained with blood, no offering strewn before her bare feet, left for the rot or dragged away by the dainty hands of this very goddess. No maidens sit in prayer, no men lower there swords to her…

There’s nothing to tell him just who she is, either.

Despite his better judgment, his hand does find her side, a swift draw up from the vision of her thigh peeking from her robe upward to curl over her hip. Her beauty is unmatched, impossible to describe and the call seems almost tangible, shrieking at him in whispers to bend a knee and let her in. So, he does. He prays to her in the silence, alternating between whispers and his own thoughts.

He tells her of his struggles: a soldier brought in from a small tribe up north, robbed from his parents as a boy, how all he knew now were the Roman ways yet could rarely comprehend their customs and deities. Maybe she could offer him some counsel or solace…? Make the weight of his blade feel less heavy as he struck down men that could very well be his own brothers? Give him something to return to when old wounds reopened and he bled, hurt with no one but himself to tend to his heart or his injuries.

The goddess only blesses him with silence: the wind does not pick up outside, there is no disembodied laughter, no sudden thought of an offering or new words to speak to her. She is void of an answer just as the very temple she waits inside is empty of all else.

This does not dissuade him from returning.

Returning to the city after another battle some months later, his first thought is to return to her, to leave the things he’s taken from dead men at her feet, to paint the temple with the blood lingering on his weapon. There is honey, wine, meat and jewelry made of stones from the sea. There is brittle, dried flakes of blood polished from his blade and left to settle onto the floor like the leaves of late autumn. He presents these things to her with a grin, thinking that assuredly this goddess would call back to him then, grant him with a love so consuming that all of the evasion and emptiness cursed upon him would be untwined.

He kneels before her statue, presses his cheek to her thigh, sighs content at the feel of cold marble against the ever-burning of his flesh, gazes up at her like an adoring dog.

Assuredly, if this temple were built for a being that did exist at all she would know just how she was all that this lonesome soldier had, would know the way that he loved her and waited with bated breath and heartstrings pulled taut for her to love him in turn. A greedy, begging muzzle that utters his prayers, words he’s never spoken to anyone whether deity or mortal, only to her in the quiet of the forest.

It’s not madness that provokes him, but the gentleness of her face and the tender look in her eyes, an expression that no other had ever offered to him, no one but this little forgotten goddess. Whether pitying or loving, he did not know. It was only enough to keep him returning: for many days, his path from the city led straight to her feet, even some nights were spent lying upon her floor, finding peace finally being able to sleep next to something apart from lonely walls.

The sun rises and sets each day where he sits and speaks to her as though she were a living, breathing woman. Occasionally he reads aloud to her in the stillness, cheekily tells her when another goddess’ name is brought up within the lines of poetry that they could never hope to compare.

It’s ridiculous when he does not even know what purpose she serves, but this silent figure is his only companion, the only thing that sets his heart ablaze and mind focused in battle because above all else, he has to return to her. Though she can not share his words, he knows somehow that she shares in his loneliness.

Finally, he thinks to ask her the question that has been burning at the tip of his tongue for weeks and months. One, that he has tried to hold back, display a patience that he lacks. It’s after a night of sleeping on cold marble, an ache in his neck from its hardness and his own refraining from bringing a cushion from his own home in his desperation to return to her.

“Why won’t you speak?,” he asks, somber as he makes his way to leave the temple, only halting in place to cast her a fragile look from over his shoulder. He has read the epics, heard the stories and seen the blessings of other deities… Yet no matter what he does or how often he tethers himself to her leg and dotes upon her, she still meets his devotion with nothing but her silence in return.

König is left with the thought that his gifts are not enough, that he, himself, is not enough, even as her sole devotee. To keep his mind preoccupied, he keeps to the city for a time. The bed is cold, the people still see him as a barbaric outsider, and the horrible coil wound around his heart only seems to tighten its grip further. He feels as though he has left a part of himself out there in the forest within the four chalked walls of her temple.

This loneliness does not feel like one he is forced to swallow down, it feels like a vicious sort of ache, the twisting of a dagger beneath ribs to sink in and steal away what little of a life he does have.

He returns to her the following night, with a furrowed brow and a grave look upon his face. There’s an intent to demand she free him of her, that this longing finally pass, but as his sandals reach the entrance to the temple, those thoughts fall away from his mind like droplets of rain, a cool drizzle that begins to fall outside the very moment he is sheltered.

The statue— the goddess moves.

She tilts her head and inspects him fondly, the perfect mouth he has envisioned speaking to him so many times prior tilts upward in the gentlest smile as her bare feet move to carry her body forward.

“A test,” she explains as though answering his question from only the past day, almost saddened by her own words as her gaze lowers to the space between them.

König’s heart does not roar then, it only melts with the knowledge that someone like her has been left alone for so, so very long that she felt the need to prove to herself that he would return to her side. He would. Time and time again he would. When she raises her head to look him in the eye, her own clouded and misty, he only silently prays that she could see such a vow upon his face.

“I am worthy then?,” he questions, forcing himself to remain rigidly in place despite the call- the urge, to circle her, just once, drop at her feet to then feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. Anything. Even an assurance would be reward enough, but there is always a greed in the hearts of men, one he feels burning a hole through his very being even now.

Her lips press to a line and her gaze seems faraway, lost in her own thoughts that must be as mighty as Olympus itself. After a time, she only answers in a soft whisper, “It is I who am unworthy of you.”

All discordance in his chest pulls to a halt at this, all apprehension and sadness are whisked away when she instead comes to kneel before him. She curls her arms around his leg, presses her cheek to his thigh as he had done so many times before. The goddess gazes up at him with not just affection… but reverence, as though he were the strongest warrior of myth, deserving of even the love of something only as ethereal and sweet as she could provide.

His breath catches for a mere moment before he lowers himself at her side. The stares exchanged from both are full of an unspoken wonderment, all of the things that words alone would fail to speak in truth.

He waits out the rain there, sat beside her with the air surrounding them charged with such a great and unspoken affection that even Venus would taste a bitter envy on her tongue should she pass by to see.

She tells him she can not recall what she was the goddess of… or if she was ever truly any goddess at all. The marble surrounding her was put up for a purpose, but she’s never seen the Elysian Fields or climbed Olympus on her own. Her memories are scattered blurs, and she confesses that she feels tired when she tries to parse things together in a way that he will understand.

He listens while he tends to her by offering the honey and dried meat left in offering for her here, then fetches fresh water from the stream that brooks several yards away and returns to her side with a face both damp and flushed.

König tells her of his life too, how during every battle since stumbling upon this sacred place he has kept her in mind; he has no wife to return to, no other women to bed, that since their meeting his life has become hers. He confesses he had the intention of returning only to force a curse upon this madness that had enveloped him, but… he could never have brought himself to do so, even if she had not appeared to him warm and breathing.

Her laugh then could have prompted waves of flowers to bloom and birds to sing in tune, whimsical and so precious he only begins to feel himself fall, truly. Not out of sheer desperation, but with genuine affection.

When her exhaustion does take her, she does not mind the way his arm curls around her middle to tuck her body closer to his own. The goddess has no fury within her, only mirrors his own feelings with a fluttering of lashes and a soft sigh.

So she sleeps, pulled close to him like a lover rather than a stranger. When dawn breaks, when König knows he’s to be called back to train and fight with the other soldiers, have dull talks about what land to cross and take for their own next, she tells him she will wait there for his return.

He can not concentrate as well on his training this day. The plans for future wars and battles do not send flurries, hot excitement through him. The world is an endless gray, reflected above with darkened clouds threatening further rain. There is only one place he wishes to be, one that yearns for him more than his own home or the women waiting on the street for coins the other men readily supply. When one, a native Roman, does ask him why he does not just venture to the brothel to put himself in better spirits, König only grits his teeth to still his hand from quieting him eternally. These men knew nothing of the love he feels, and certainly they didn’t deserve to.

The temple is no different from how he found it the night prior. The goddess sits with her hands curled in her lap, smiling just as fondly at him as she had before. His heart shatters at the thought that she had sat there waiting for him in such a way all day. He swears to her that he will have a proper bed made for her, bring her the softest of furs and cushions stuffed with downy feathers to lie upon. For now his offering is only fruit and wine, things that she shares with him while she shushes his concerns with quiet words and gratitude that he had returned.

She lowers herself again before him after pulling her robe free and lying it upon the floor. It is no proper bedding at all, but she swears that it is enough, that his own warmth is just enough for her to be sated and comfortable. His head swims when she kisses his thigh, drags her lips up from his knee to rest there with that reverent look in her eye. Mortals coupling with deities was not unheard of, but to think it could happen to him…

She is a goddess. How is he supposed to… How could he ever dirty her with himself? He thinks to refuse her before she tugs away the barrier of fabric between them and takes him into her mouth. Stunned, he only watches her, feels her in a way he has never felt a woman before until he finds his voice again.

“Lie down,” he breathes, shaky and tentative as he rests his hand upon her cheek. She complies, giddy and content when she’s splayed out on the white robe beneath her, legs parting immediately and her arms reaching upward to invite him into her hold.

There’s no tact when he lies atop her, feels the warmth of her thighs around him and her arms curled over his neck. His forehead is pressed to her own when togetherness is found, and when she sighs so soft as she envelops him in full, his mouth descends upon her own.

She doesn’t praise him, doesn’t need to in words, because the muffled sounds and cries that leave her lips are more than enough to spear him onward. König, however… he babbles ceaselessly, overwhelmed and overcome by such a profound joy, he can not keep himself from reciting every word that comes to mind, whether vile or pure.

“My goddess,” he whispers into her hair, eyes half-lidded and dazed with each shallow thrust. “We could have had this for a season… you have made me wait so long, hm?”

The way she feels is unmatched, he thinks, when her breathing shudders and she only seems to constrict him further. To think he could bring a goddess to ruin… the grin that crosses his face when he pushes his head against her neck is bordering on both ecstatic and cruel.

“I will give you a demigod,” he hisses against her throat, not at all subtle about just how far he was willing to go to keep her here. With him. More than Olympus, she belonged beneath him, and the tremor that wracks her form then is all of the confirmation he would need.

She sobs his name when the tension becomes too much to bear, fingernails graze the flesh of his shoulders as she shudders, falls into such bliss that her words of praise come incoherent and weak. He follows her to a saccharine abyss with a guttural groan.

The aftermath is softer than any other moment he has shared with her. There are an abundance of kisses pressed between them, littered across her flesh and his own with whispers that leave his mind cloudy. Her worship is subtle by comparison to his own, coming in honeyed stares and such words he would never dare to repeat, no lowly poet deserved to ever hear them, their voices could never compare to her own.

The goddess holds him close, bumps his nose with her own and makes a promise; she tells him for as long as he shall live that this temple was as much his home as it were his own. That even when this body of his does die, she will seek him out in the Elysian Fields, lie at his feet as he had done her own; that no matter what may come, they will never be apart.