KONRAD CURZE NSFW ALPHABET
Tags : @incrediblethirst, @iluminatka16, @myns-world, @dyonys, @absynthe-mind
A = Aftercare
Silent and shaking. He doesn’t know what to do after, it overwhelms him. Sometimes he curls around you and sobs against your chest, muttering half-formed apologies. Other times he vanishes into the dark and watches you sleep from the ceiling.
B = Body Part
Your eyes. He stares into them while he fucks you, searching for fear, love, worship, anything to tether himself.
C = Cum
Hot, fast, and a little frantic. Konrad finishes like it’s being ripped out of him, shaking, growling, his body tensing as if the pleasure hurts. If he cums on you, he’ll stare at the mess with a mix of guilt and reverence, whispering apologies or licking it away like penance.
D = Dirty Secret
He’s carved your name into his skin. Over his heart. With his claws. You’ll never see it, he won’t let you, but when he touches you, his fingers tremble over that spot. Like your name is the only thing keeping his ribs from cracking open.
E = Experience
A nightmare made flesh, but a careful one. He studied what brings people pleasure the same way he studied how to break them. At first, he was cold and confused, but once he learned how to make you moan? He became addicted.
F = Favorite Position
He likes to see your face. Him between your legs, one hand pressing your wrists above your head, the other stroking your cheek. The contradiction of violence and worship. “Look at me,” he begs, voice cracking.
G = Goofy
Never. There is no laughter, no lightness. Sex with Konrad is a ritual. A collapse. A grave you fall into together. If you do laugh, he’ll freeze and stare, stunned and unsure how to process it.
H = Hair
Slick black, always damp at the roots. On his body, it’s fine and barely visible, his flesh is almost corpse-pale, like moonlight. Below the belt, it’s sparse, black, and neat. He shaves it sometimes, not for vanity, but to feel cleaner.
I = Intimacy
Terrifyingly intense. He cups your face with clawed hands like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He’ll whisper, “Why are you still here?” and then fuck you like he’s trying to brand the memory into your soul. When he’s gentle, it’s trembling, hesitant, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve you.
J = Jack Off
Only when he’s desperate. Usually after a nightmare. He hates how much he needs you, so he punishes himself, harsh, painful strokes in the dark, muttering your name like it’s an accusation. He always ends up collapsing, shaking, whispering “forgive me.”
K = Kink
Somnophilia. He watches you sleep, hard and aching, and sometimes… he touches. He fucks you slow and careful, whispering apologies into your neck.
Fear kink: He thrives on your trembling, your gasps, your heartbeat racing. He never wants to hurt you, but your fear feeds his desire.
Mommy kink. If you let him call you that: instant emotional collapse.
L = Location
Dark rooms, your bed, his coffin. Places he feels safe. Or not safe, he likes fucking where he shouldn’t. One time, he took you in front of his brothers' armor displays. They all watched through dead glass.
M = Motivation
The fear he sees flicker in your eyes before it turns to trust. The way you reach for him. The way your heartbeat speeds up when he growls your name. He’s a predator who lives for the moment his prey chooses to stay.
N = No
He won’t share. Ever. Even the thought sends him spiraling into a jealous, self-loathing pit. And he won’t degrade you, not truly. He might growl like you’re prey, but he worships you, body and soul.
O = Oral
Giving. Wild. He eats you out like he’s starving, moaning into your flesh, his claws digging into your thighs to hold you down.
P = Pace
Frantic. Unrelenting. Every thrust like he’s trying to bury himself in you and never come back out. If you ask for gentle? He tries. It just breaks down when he hears you gasp.
Q = Quickie
Yes, but not casually. If he takes you against a wall, it’s because something broke, panic, arousal, anger. He’ll slam into you hard, panting against your neck, like it’s the only thing grounding him.
R = Risk
Unhinged. He’ll try anything that feels like sin. Bloodletting. Binding. Psychic connection during orgasm. He wants to feel your soul against his. He wants to haunt you forever.
S = Stamina
High, but fragile. He can go multiple rounds, but emotionally? He’s wrecked after the first. If you coax him gently, he’ll keep going until you can’t breathe.
T = Toys
His claws. His tongue. His voice. He doesn’t trust devices, he thinks they’re impure. But sometimes he’ll carve your name into a candle and fuck you beside it while it burns.
U = Unfair
Oh, he can tease, but not in a smug way. In a desperate way. He’ll hold you still, his breath shaky, whispering “I shouldn’t…” while grinding his cock against your thigh, trembling with need. He gets off on denial, yours or his.
V = Volume
Mostly quiet. Whimpers. Ragged breathing. Sometimes, when he’s close, a deep broken moan like something being torn open. He’ll bury his face in your neck to muffle it. When he cries out, it’s because he’s lost in you.
W = Wild Card
He carves your name into his armor. Not on the outside, inside, on the chestplate where it touches his heart. So when he fights, it’s with you against his skin. Always.
X = X-Ray
Lean but deceptively thick. Long enough to reach deep and brush that spot that makes your legs shake. Veins dark and raised. Tip flushed purple when he’s fully hard. He loves pushing it in slowly, watching you stretch around it.
Y = Yearning
High. Too high. He craves you like a drug, fights against it, then gives in and devours you. If you’re gone too long, he withdraws into himself, and when you return, he doesn’t even speak. He just kneels, clutches your hips, and breathes you in.
Z = Zzz
Sleeps very little. He lies beside you, staring. Memorizing. Sometimes, he rests his head on your stomach and listens to your breathing until it calms him enough to doze off.
